Chapter 16 Tierney
Living the kind of privileged life I’d led, I’d seen more than most people in my twenty-seven years. I’d traveled the world and considered myself an adventurous person. London and I had once joined a camping tour in the Rainforest where the guide taught us survival skills.
Despite the deadly plants and insects there, I’d felt empowered by the experience.
Now I realized it was because I wasn’t alone. I’d had my best friend and two badass guides leading our small group.
Moreover, I was free of any threats six years ago when we did that tour.
Sitting on the double bed in the bothy, my arms wrapped around my legs, listening to the weather crash around me, I was afraid.
I was alone and afraid and I hated it. There were moments when the loss of my parents’ hit me harder than others.
Like when I bought the B and B and I forgot for a second and I picked up my phone to call my mom and then remembered I couldn’t.
The grief had hit me then like a crushing weight.
Losing two people who were that intrinsically tied to my happiness had made me feel so unanchored, I felt like I was losing my mind.
Now and then, I’d get hit with flashes of that intense grief and have to meditate my way through it.
Right then, I missed my mom and dad so much I could cry like a baby.
I wanted to call my dad and ask him to come get me, knowing he’d send the freaking coast guard and Royal Navy to do it.
“I miss you so much,” I whispered hoarsely, tears stinging my nose.
I wasn’t going to sleep a wink tonight.
And crying wouldn’t help my situation, so I sucked back the tears. Blood rushed in my ears as I strained to hear anything over the sound of the storm.
My mind kept conjuring sounds. Like a door creaking open. A tap on the window.
Maybe the bothy was haunted.
“Oh, fuck a duck,” I muttered, pulling my legs tighter against me. “Survived a week in the rainforest. Can’t even survive a night in a haunted bothy.”
A loud creak sounded, and I held my breath, my eyes trying to detect movement in the darkened front room. Shadows moved and my heart raced at the definite sight of the bothy’s door opening.
I froze in terror as a huge figure stepped inside and the door slammed shut.
The scream rushed up my throat as the figure turned and then stepped into the doorway. The dim light of my solar lamp cast shadows over his face.
I sagged in utter relief. “Ramsay.”
He strode into the room, the light now illuminating his expression.
And he was pissed.
He yanked his hood down and sprays of rain water hit my face. “How the bloody hell did you miss that boat?”
At his belligerent tone, my fear gave way to indignant anger. “Well, hello to you too!”
Ramsay yanked off the waterproof jacket, and I gaped as he pushed down the yellow waterproof trousers, only slightly relieved he had jeans on underneath.
He disappeared out of the room and I heard him curse loudly as I imagined he found somewhere to dry them.
Then he was back with the other solar lamp in hand.
“What are you doing here?” I asked more calmly, trying not to show him how freaking relieved I was to see him.
“Cammie was in a panic when you didn’t show up, so I brought my boat over to find you.”
“In this weather? Are you insane?”
“Apparently.” He cut me a dark look. “So you’re safe? You’re all right?”
“I hiked to the other end of the island and I fell asleep by the water. By the time I woke up, I didn’t have enough time to make it back to the ferry, so I remembered this place and reached it before the storm got really bad.”
Ramsay let out a long, heavy sigh before he started rummaging in the backpack he’d brought with him.
“What are you doing?”
Instead of answering, he pulled out what looked like a walkie-talkie.
A VHF radio.
He held it to his mouth. “Half-Light, this is McRae. Over.”
The radio crackled and then a distorted voice replied, “Meh-Rae—is Ha—ligh—you—kay?—er.”
“All good. I found Silver. We’re safe for the night. Over.” His eyes held mine and awareness sparked through me as I processed the situation.
I was alone in the bothy with Ramsay McRae and we had to spend the night together.
Wonderful.
“Will—Cam—ow. Stay—afe.—er.”
“Thanks. Over.”
Ramsay dropped his hand to the side and kept looking at me in that way that made me feel like he was peeling back all my layers. I shivered. His eyes narrowed. “Cold?”
I let out a huff of laughter. “Just a little bit.”
“Hungry?”
I nodded. “I only brought lunch with me.”
Ramsay promptly sat down on the bed and dumped his backpack between us. “I brought supplies. It’s not much.” He began unloading protein bars, packets of peanuts and chips, a couple bottles of water.
“Why did you come here?” I dared to ask.
Those wolf eyes met mine. “Cammie was worried someone might have gotten to you.”
Just Cammie?
“I’m sorry I worried her. I haven’t been sleeping well and didn’t mean to nap so long.”
He searched my face, expression grim. “You know … it might help if you tell us what’s going on.”
I looked down at the food supplies. “Is that a chocolate chip peanut bar? Can I have it?”
There was no mistaking his frustration. It practically vibrated off him. But eventually, he replied gruffly, “Aye, knock yourself out.”
Unwrapping the bar, I studied my companion as he took a swig of water.
With his beard closely trimmed, I could see the bob of his throat as he swallowed, and I didn’t know why the sight was so erotic.
My eyes roamed over his broad shoulders.
The Henley he wore hugged his muscular biceps, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms. He had great hands.
Long fingered, but big knuckled. I’d bet my life his fingertips were covered in callouses that would rasp across my skin like sandpaper.
I shivered again and looked away, reminding myself I was mad at the Scot.
And yet …
He’d risked his life crossing the channel between here and Glenvulin.
For me.
He might say it was for Cammie … but it was for me.
“Thank you for coming,” I murmured. My eyes returned to him, and I realized it was against my will. I couldn’t not look at him.
The handsome bastard that he was.
His silver-gray eyes gleamed in the low light. “You’re welcome.”
It wasn’t the response I’d expected. I’d anticipated something sarcastic and disapproving.
If he was still frustrated at my inability to confide my troubles, he didn’t show it.
Instead, he held my stare as if he too found he couldn’t look away.
I could feel my breathing grow shallow with awareness. Afraid of the intensity of my attraction, I sought to break the silence. “You know, I once camped in the Rainforest for a week when I was twenty-one … and yet, I think I was more scared to be alone in this little bothy tonight.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have taken you for the camping sort.”
I grimaced. “Then you’d be wrong. But I’d be lying if I told you I did that tour alone. I had the best guides money could buy. My parents insisted.”
“I’d have insisted too.” Again his response surprised me.
Wondering if this time, forced to be with each other, he might actually open up a little, I tried once more to get to know Ramsay McRae. “Would your parents have insisted?”
He searched my gaze thoroughly. I didn’t know what he was looking for … but to my surprise, he replied, “Probably. I think. They died when I was eight so …” He shrugged. “I’m an orphan.”
The word clanged through me.
It conjured images of sad-faced little children, not tall, broad-shouldered capable Scots whose hands were almost twice as big as my own.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, shocked.
Ramsay shrugged. “It’s my reality. I don’t think my life has been worse or better than most because of it.”
“So … were you adopted?”
“No. It’s difficult at that age. I spent the rest of my childhood in the foster system and stayed with foster parents across the north. Inverness, Aberdeen …”
He was talking.
Ramsay was talking.
A surge of triumph moved through me even as his truth caused dismay.
I hated that reality for him. As heartbroken as I was without my parents, I wouldn’t trade those years together just so I didn’t feel the pain of their loss.
Ramsay had such little time with his. How lucky was I to have had the time I did?
“And you ended up in the Royal Marines?”
“I joined at sixteen.” He reached for one of the protein bars and ripped it open.
I tried not to stare at his mouth as he chewed. “Did they become like a family? Your unit?”
“For a while. Do you pity me?”
There was something sharp in his tone I didn’t like. “Never. If I pitied you for losing your parents, then I’d have to pity myself and I don’t. Plus, you’re one of the most capable people I’ve ever met. I could never pity you.”
Tension eased in his shoulders. “You’re pretty capable yourself for a rich girl.”
I heard his teasing, so I didn’t take offense.
Instead, I chuckled and took the bottle of water he held out to me.
“My parents made sure of it. Yes, I grew up privileged. We had luxury vacations and I’ve seen more of the world than most people ever will.
I’ve never wanted for anything. I don’t know what it’s like to be hungry or to be afraid I don’t have the money to feed myself, to pay my bills.
And I’m grateful for that. But, like I told you before, my parents wanted to make sure that’s as far as my privilege went. ”
“What does that mean?”
Trying to think of the perfect example, I took a sip of water, searching my memory. I swallowed and wiped my lips with the back of my hand. “Okay, for instance, I’m fourteen years old and my classmate Carissa Yiu just had a slumber party that made Blair Waldorf’s look like child’s play.”
“Who’s Blair Waldorf?”
My lips twitched. “A fictional New York socialite known for her lavish slumber parties.”
“Ah.”
“You were probably somewhere on a covert operation when she made her splash into popular media,” I joked.
Ramsay nodded as if that were probably true.
Hmm.
I wondered just what he did while he was in the Royal Marines.
“Anyway, I begged my parents for a slumber party that would knock Carissa Yiu’s slumber party out of the park.
They adamantly refused. And when I threw a hissy fit, my mom made me volunteer with her at a homeless shelter.
That shut me right up.” I smiled fondly at the memory.
Ramsay swallowed a bite of his protein bar and murmured, “I think I’d get on well with your mum.”
“Oh, she was a Scot through and through. She grew up with money, but my grandfather hadn’t, so she was raised to appreciate everything she had. And she wanted me to be the same. My mom and dad kept me in check. I don’t take any of the experiences they provided for granted.”
Ramsay considered this. “Perhaps some of us had preconceived notions about you.”
“Some of us being you?”
“I rarely judge a book by its cover. People are excellent at keeping secrets and are never really who you think they are. But … I have to admit, you’ve surprised me a time or two and that’s not easy to do.”
Despite the cold, my cheeks flushed beneath his intense regard.
God, I wanted him.
I didn’t think I’d ever wanted a man as much as I wanted this one.
Feeling breathless again, I racked my brain for a subject change. Pinned to the wall of the bedroom was a photograph of a Highland piper. “So, the pipes … where did you learn to play them?”
Ramsay went with the new topic and to my continued shock, replied, “In the marines. They have a pipe band and as punishment for a prank I pulled on a member of my unit when I was seventeen, my corporal stuck me in the pipe band, and I was forced to learn the pipes.”
“But you enjoyed playing?”
“I did. It had been years since I picked up the pipes, but when I settled in Leth Sholas, Quinn was looking for another piper. Some madness led me to saying yes.” He shrugged, a far-off look in his eyes.
“But being part of the band reminds me of my time in the marines. Of being part of a team, of a community. I’d lost that over the years, reverting to the orphan who grew up needing nothing and no one. ”
Grateful he’d shared so much, I responded softly, “I guess we all need someone. Even a man who bought an island just to be alone.”
“Not alone. I have a dog.” He flashed me a grin, and I felt a swoop of attraction in my stomach.
I chuckled, suddenly not afraid to let my feelings show in the heat of my stare. “You have more than a dog.”
Blunt as ever, Ramsay replied gruffly, “I’m not a relationship type of man, Silver. I like sex and when I need it, I find someone uncomplicated to have sex with.”
Perhaps it was because he couldn’t run from me here, but I found myself answering boldly, “And I’m complicated?”
Ramsay gave a little huff. “Where do I start?”
“Somewhere,” I insisted.
“Fine. One: You live in Leth Sholas. I don’t sleep with women from Glenvulin. Two: You’re a good thirteen years younger than me. I like women who know the score. Three: You’re hiding something that potentially puts the people I care about in danger. Is that complicated enough for you?”
I raised my chin defiantly. “The only person potentially in danger is me, and we both know you couldn’t care less about me.”
“You believe that and yet you want to fuck me?” He quirked an eyebrow.
My skin flushed at his words. Not at the bluntness. But at the imagery they conjured. The thought of his big body moving over mine. In mine.
“I’m not looking for complicated either,” I whispered, my voice hoarse with need.
Ramsay turned his head from me, and I saw the muscle in his jaw flexing beneath his beard. “Who is threatening you?” he asked the wall.
“Why do you care?”
“Silver.” He flashed me a warning look.
I sighed and shimmied back up the bed and onto one side. “I’m tired. I think I’ll try to sleep through this storm.”
Without another word, I curled up on my side.