Chapter 12
Alicia
Alicia warmed herself under the monsoon shower and cosied up in a giant robe, appreciating the comfort even more after her night in the bothy. She was supping on a steaming cup of camomile tea when her phone buzzed with a Face Time from Sunni. What a welcome treat.
‘Hey, Sunni hunni.’ Alicia cringed at the conspicuous amount of bounce her voice held. Sunni was bound to notice.
‘Hey, girl.’ Her best friend’s face glowed back at her. ‘You look like Scotland is doing you the world of good. I might need to get me some of that Scottish air. Aren’t you jet-lagged?’
‘I haven’t had time to think about it. I guess I should be, but maybe it will hit me on the way back.’
‘If you come back.’ Sunni winked. ‘So, what’s been keeping you so busy.’
‘Oh, this and that,’ Alicia tried to level her excitement. She wanted to blurt out everything that had happened since she’d arrived, at least, the parts with Jamie, but she might sound too effusive for her own good.
‘This and that? Like what? You been painting?’
‘Um, not yet. I did a little sketch of someone I met here. That was fun. I might get the paints out this afternoon. There is a stunning mountain right in front of my lodge. Honestly, you should see it. It’s––’
But Sunni was too sharp. ‘Hang on, hang on. Rewind a second. A sketch of someone you met? Haven’t had time to think? Okay, spill, girl. Who is he?’
Alicia tried to temper the giant grin on her face but it was hard.
It wasn’t that she wanted to keep things from Sunni but she saw her situation from her friend’s perspective.
Recently traumatised by an ex-partner, travelled to Scotland for a break – the implication being it was a break from men – and now letting herself get carried away with the first male specimen she met.
If the roles were reversed, she would be worried.
‘Oh, he’s this Scottish guy in the neighbouring lodge. He’s kinda nice. Owns a whisky company. We wound up trapped in a cabin overnight when the snow got wild. To pass the time, I sketched him by the fire. I mean, I was by the fire, he was by the window.’
‘Oh, I see. You sketched the whisky magnate by the fire in a snowed in cabin. Sounds charming.’ Sunni took a sip of her drink and nodded before standing up and hollering at the screen.
‘SAY WHAT, GIRL? O.M.G! Alicia Jansen! You sketched a Scottish whisky company owner, who’s “kinda nice”, by the fire in a snowed-in cabin! How do I sign up to get your life?’
Inside, Alicia was as ebullient as Sunni but she dampened her response.
‘I think you might be making it into more of a deal than it is,’ she countered.
Sunni wasn’t. It had been idyllic and Alicia was twinkling from the memories.
She, too, wanted to stand up and holler that Jamie was positively edible and that she was missing him already and wanted to hang with him again and find out more about him.
Damn! She was missing him already. How was that possible?
Sunni sat down, shaking her head but laughing gloriously. ‘Seriously, though, now I can see why you’re glowing. I’m guessing he’s on the hot side of things. Not that he needs to be.’
‘Yeah, he’s easy on the eye. And it was a fun experience. But I didn’t come here for anything involving men. I happened to be out for a walk, it was snowing hard, and we ended up in the same place. The rest of my break will be all about self-healing.’
‘Uh-huh. Okay. That’s cool.’ Sunni smoothed down her hair. ‘Whatever works for you, hun. Self-heal in the way that suits you.’
Sunni was being a good friend in telling Alicia to follow her heart, but the therapist part of her would be worried about Alicia’s emotional wounds.
Over on the coffee table, Alicia spotted the book she’d been gifted.
Showing Shame the Door. ‘Yeah,’ she said.
‘This afternoon I’m going to have a good session with paintbrush, then curl up with the book you gave me. ’
‘Ah, worry about the book when you’re home.’ Sunni could tell Alicia was trying to please the therapist. ‘Just take care of yourself. But listen, there is something I’ve got to tell you.’
‘Oh, God, what is it? Are you okay?’ Alicia held her breath as she waited for dreadful news that her friend was sick or in trouble.
‘I’m fine. It’s about Chad. Apparently, he’s gone into rehab. It’s all over the news: well, if you can call Entertainment Wow! news. But there’s an interview lined up for when he gets out on Clelland Freeman Interviews, an intimate tell-all type thing.’
Alicia breathed again. ‘Oh, is that all? Chad checks into rehab about as often as other people check into their fridge for a snack. It means nothing.’
‘True, but I thought you might want to be prepared all the same.’
Alicia appreciated Sunni’s concern. It was anyone’s guess what Chad would say in the interview.
Often, he was frankly and brutally honest in the name of ‘letting the real me be free’.
It was trash talk to keep his profile fresh in the public’s mind and to ensure he was forgiven for his latest misdemeanour.
What on earth was it that kept the public running back to Chad?
Alicia had no idea, but she sure as hell wasn’t falling for any of his propaganda.
After saying goodbye to Sunni, Alicia set up her easel and canvas facing Ben Corrin.
The visibility had cleared since the storm, and there was a good view of the mountain.
Each brush stroke was meditation, like painting with lavender oil, the scent infusing into her and soothing her soul.
There was a distinct contrast to sketching Jamie where every score or flick of the pencil had been like skin on skin.
Her desire spiking as the graphite skimmed across the paper.
For around an hour, Alicia painted, the dabbing motions of the brush in the paint and the gentle strokes of earthen brown, Snow White and pure azure across the canvas lulling her into a sea of calm. This type of therapy was exactly why she’d come here.
But it was around this time that a now familiar scene played out.
Small flakes of white started to spin across her vision, at first so few that she rubbed her eyes and wondered if the jet lag was playing tricks on her brain.
But it wasn’t long until crystalline dervishes were whirling in front of her once more. Another snowstorm.
‘Damn!’ Alicia put down her paintbrush. Visibility was back to zero. It had been good while it lasted.
At a loose end, she leaned over to the coffee table and picked up the copy of Showing Shame the Door.
The title was kind of ridiculous, but if Sunni recommended it, she would give it a shot.
Sinking down onto the couch, Alicia opened the book and pretended she was reading something relaxing and escapist. But this was no bodice ripper and the only thing that happened as she read was that the word shame jumped out from all angles like a school bully.
The book was hard work already, and this was a vacation. Back it went onto the coffee table.
Alicia got up to make another cup of tea and stood at the French doors drinking it. Despite the poor visibility, she could see the general outline of Jamie’s lodge. What was he doing in there? Thinking? Drinking? Showering? She would watch all three, preferably at once.
Driven by a sudden urge to see the man again, and without thinking too much about what she was doing, or the snowstorm, Alicia yanked on her boots, powered out the door – cup of tea in hand – and down the path to Jamie’s accommodation.
As she waited for him to respond to her knocking, she mildly regretted not putting on a jacket or bringing an umbrella.
But neither of those would have prepared her for what hit her when Jamie opened the door.
What on earth?! He was hastily tying up a robe, but not quickly enough for Alicia to miss that under the robe he appeared only to be wearing…
What were those? She only got a glance – swim shorts?
She tried her best to keep her gaze at eye level, although it was difficult.
‘Oh, hey!’ Jamie tied the robe up. Alicia was tempted to tell him to please not bother on her account.
‘Sorry,’ he continued. ‘I thought it was… I don’t know, actually.
I think I thought it was the wind, although that makes me a sound weird for opening the door to it.
Anyway, come in, come in.’ He stepped aside to let Alicia pass. ‘You alright? You not painting.’
‘I was, but it’s been a bit hindered by the weather.’
‘Ah, of course. It’s gien it laldy again.’
‘Pardon?’
’It’s snowing a lot.’
‘Yes. Um, nice lodge you’ve got here.’ If Alicia could focus on the dwelling as if it were a piece of real estate she might be able to make her eyes do the polite thing and not gawp at Jamie in that robe.
‘Thanks. Much the same as yours I’d imagine. Anyway, sorry about my get up here. I was going to the pool. So, what’s your plan now?’
‘I don’t have one. I was just––’ Suddenly, embarrassment crawled up Alicia’s neck.
Why had she come here? Jamie was busy doing his own thing and at the first sign of boredom, she had turned to him.
She readied herself to apologise and make up some rubbish about borrowing a tea bag, but he spoke first.
‘I know why you’re here. You don’t have to explain.’
‘You do?’ God, was she that obvious? Was her attraction to him scrawled all over her face? What an embarrassment. How pathetic. But whether it was or not, that wasn’t the angle he was heading in.
‘You want me to pose for you, again, don’t you?’
Alicia laughed. This was the perfect response.
She wasn’t ready for Jamie saying something like, I know you can’t stop thinking about me and backing her up against the kitchen units mumbling that he’d been thinking about her non-stop too and needed her to undress for him.
That was the stuff of fantasies that could run rampant in the safety of her mind.
In real life, the best thing was humour and deflection, until she knew this man better.
‘Yep. You got me,’ she said.
‘Obviously, you’re joking, but I did enjoy being sketched yesterday. My one chance to feel like a supermodel.’
‘Well…’ Alicia took a casual swig of her tea, hampered because it was unexpectedly cold. ‘I can’t paint the mountain because of the snow, so if you want to discover your inner supermodel again... Unless you have other plans? Like the pool.’
‘Ach, pool, schmool. This sounds like way more fun.’ Jamie swung his robe tie round like a lasso. ‘So, what’s the protocol?’
‘I’ll need to get a few bits and pieces. ‘It might take a bit of negotiating to make sure my sketch book doesn’t get wet.’
‘I’ll give you a hand. Give me two secs to put on some clothes.’
‘That’s really not necessary.’ Alicia spoke far too quickly and her heat flushed up her neck. ‘I mean, put the clothes on, but I can manage the rest.’ She cringed at her verbal clumsiness, but Jamie just smiled.
‘Whatever the artist wants,’ he said. Thank God he was able to see the light side of things.
‘So, what should I wear for this?’ He asked when Alicia returned with her equipment. ‘I’ve got hiking gear, the ‘porter’ outfit, um…this robe here.’
And again, his manner emboldened Alicia. ‘Honestly,’ she said, ‘for this to be proper life drawing, you should get out of the robe.’
‘Proper life drawing? I don’t remember us discussing proper life drawing.
’ Jamie feigned confusion, but with the undercurrent of a knowing smile.
‘But, if that’s what the artist wants, then I guess…
Give me a second.’ He disappeared to the bedroom and returned moments later in bare feet, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
‘I wasn’t sure how far you wanted me to go in terms of proper life drawing.
There’s a bloke who poses down the community centre in Kinshore and, to be honest, it ain’t too pretty.
My sisters went once on an art whim and claim to be traumatised by it. ’
While it was true that life drawing didn’t always involve the most typically handsome of subjects, there was no way this man removing more of his clothing could possibly be traumatic.
‘Ditch the t-shirt, honey,’ Alicia said, her old confidence sparking through.
Jamie cocked an eyebrow. ‘Okay, Ma’am.’
‘I mean, if you’re comfortable doing that.’
‘Oh, I’m fine, but are you sure?’
‘More than. Get it gone.’
‘Well, in that case…’ Jamie hauled the t-shirt up and over his head and cast it onto the back of a chair.
My God! Heat surged through Alicia. He was stupendous.
Man personified. Broad shouldered, sculpted perfectly in all the right places.
And he wasn’t remotely shy about his body.
How she would love to tell him to keep going, take it all off, that proper life drawing was fully nude, but that might be moving a step too far, and she wasn’t sure she could trust herself with him naked in front of her.
It would be hard enough concentrating with just the jeans.
‘So, if you could lie down there.’ Alicia gestured to the couch like a psychologist putting a patient at ease. It was wide enough for Jamie to pose comfortably for a few hours.
He did as she asked, and Alicia positioned herself on a chair a few feet away from him.
This was perfect. The chance to look at him with impunity.
To drink in this man who stared into space like nobody was watching because he genuinely wasn’t thinking about being watched.
This trait alone made Jamie utterly beguiling.
A million times more so than Chad, supposedly the best-looking man in the world. What a lot of crap that was.
‘Are you comfortable?’ she asked. ‘Warm enough?’
‘Aye, I’m great. Are you okay? I can whack up the heating on if you want.’
‘I’m good.’ Alicia picked up her pencil and was half tempted to bite into it, to quell the lust rampaging through her. The heat of Jamie Butler’s presence could save the hotel – or Scotland itself – a fortune in fuel bills.