Chapter Twenty-Four
Ren
‘Lydia,’ I whispered, keeping my voice down so I didn’t wake the other campers. ‘Lydia. Wakey, wakey.’
It had been three days since Ben Nevis. Three days of wandering the Highlands – kayaking across Loch Leven, lazy pub lunches in Glencoe, Lydia squealing over Highland cows with that soft, gooey look I was kind of jealous of.
We’d steal moments on the paths, her back against a tree as I pressed her close, kissing her until she moaned into my mouth.
I’d catch her by the loos when no one was watching, my hand up her shirt, her laugh muffled against my neck.
She’d walk away flushed and breathless, that dazed expression I wanted to bottle.
I didn’t know I could be this happy – especially somewhere this breathtaking.
So, on our final night in the Highlands, I was determined to make it count. And I wanted her all to myself.
Lydia’s eyes fluttered open, her brow furrowing.
She sat up out of her sleeping bag, hair sticking up at all angles, adorably dishevelled.
For tonight’s sleep, we all set up camp in a wild field overlooking Loch Leven, where dragonflies darted around the pools at the edge of the loch and the smell of sweet vanilla was in the air.
Mandy explained Scotland allowed wild camping, meaning you could pitch up anywhere within reason, so long as you left no trace and avoided farmland.
This was easily the most stunning spot but they had no facilities, no frills.
But tonight, I fancied a bit of luxury.
So, when everyone turned in early, worn out from the hike, I took one look at how shattered Lydia was – even if I did like the way she curled herself around me in the tiny tent – and started plotting.
‘Come on,’ I whispered. ‘Bring some of your stuff. We’re going on an adventure.’
Her eyes brightened with curiosity. ‘What kind of adventure?’
I grinned. ‘You’ll have to wait and see.’
The others had left their stuff at the hikers’ hotel or at the base of Ben Nevis, but I’d volunteered to stash mine closer to the campsite with extra supplies – just in case we needed more water or ran out of dry socks.
‘Wait, Ren.’ Lydia turned, frowning. ‘They’ll worry if we’re not here—’
I booped her nose. ‘I’ve got it covered. I told Mandy I was stealing you away for the night. But don’t worry – we’ll come back and say goodbye to everyone tomorrow.’
Lydia planted a finger on my cheek. ‘Sneaky.’
I caught her fingertip between my teeth. ‘Always. Come on.’
I led her back to my car, loaded our things in the boot, and made the 30-minute drive to our destination. My heart thrummed with anticipation as we drove through huge, austere gates and down a long, gravelled driveway fit for nobility.
‘What have you got planned?’ Lydia said, her eyes narrowed, but she had a smile on her lips.
‘You’ll just have to be patient and you’ll find out.’
We passed a sign that read THE GLENCAIRN ESTATE as we kept travelling down the long driveway, with trees and woodland on one side and vast open fields on the other. Eventually, the manor house came into view, and Lydia’s breath hitched.
‘Oh, my God!’ she breathed, leaning forward in her seat.
Lydia marvelled at the huge estate, with ivy climbing the pale stonework.
The sheer awe in her voice sent a rush of satisfaction through me.
I pulled up in front of the enormous doorway, with sliding glass doors displaying the Glencairn coat of arms. Standing before them was a tall, broad-chested man dressed in a navy-blue suit with a dark green tartan waistcoat.
His dark red hair was swept back from his face, and his usual beard was gone, replaced by a clean-shaven look.
I jumped out of the car, travelling round the side to open Lydia’s door before she could pick her jaw up from the ground.
I chuckled. Her blue eyes were comically big as she stepped out of the car.
‘Where on earth are we, Ren?’ she whispered. ‘Do I need a bleeding gown?’
I laughed. ‘It’s a hotel, Sunshine. No gown needed. I figured we could use some luxury after three weeks of sleeping in tents. Plus, I fancied treating you now that you’ll let me.’
Her eyes flickered, something unreadable there before she smirked. ‘This is kind of sexy.’
I winked. ‘I know.’
Lydia rolled her eyes as I took her hand and led her up the steps. She was still in awe, but the squeeze of her fingers told me she wasn’t mad about it.
Waiting at the entrance was Duncan, exactly as I remembered him from the last time we had seen each other in London for the British Bar Awards a few years ago.
‘Lawrence.’ Duncan threw his arms open and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug, clapping me on the back hard enough to rattle my ribs. He had a very soft Scottish lilt to his voice. ‘I’ll tell you what, I never expected this call. And at six in the evening too. Thought you’d gone soft.’
His eyes shifted to Lydia and he extended a hand. ‘And you must be Lydia. He wouldn’t shut up about you on the phone. I had to tell him to stop waffling and get to the bleeding point.’
Lydia raised a brow at me, then shook Duncan’s hand firmly. ‘What can I say? He’s obsessed with me.’
Duncan barked a laugh. ‘Now I can see why.’
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. ‘I should’ve known this was a mistake.’
Lydia gave me an innocent smile. ‘Oh, come on. You love it when I tell everyone how much you adore me.’
Duncan grinned, arms crossed over his broad chest. ‘And here I thought you were the cocky one, Lawrence. Looks like you’ve met your match.’
‘Oh, he’s been trying to keep up for years,’ Lydia said, flicking her eyes up and down me with a slow, smug grin that set my blood pounding. ‘Bless him.’
Duncan let out another booming laugh. ‘I like her.’
I rolled my eyes, fighting a smile. ‘Yeah, yeah. Me too.’
Duncan nodded towards the door. ‘Do you two fancy a whisky? I kept the bar open. Got some cracking new bottles in.’
I turned to Lydia, running a hand down her ponytail. ‘Fancy a nightcap?’
Lydia nodded with a faint smile. ‘Sure.’
‘Crackin’.’ Duncan clapped. ‘Leave the car. I’ll ask Brian to bring your bags up to your room. We’re quiet tonight, so I’ve put you in the Glencairn Suite. You’ll be very comfortable.’
Duncan winked and then led the way through the glass doors.
The stone flags looked hundreds of years old, and the vaulted ceilings gave the space a grand, yet inviting, feel.
Upholstered in the same deep green tartan as Duncan’s waistcoat, grand armchairs sat around a roaring fireplace.
I ran my hand down Lydia’s arm, clasping her hand.
‘If this is what I’ll be getting used to being Ren Hunter’s girlfriend, sign me up,’ Lydia muttered.
I laughed and squeezed her hand, grinning as warmth bloomed in my chest. Girlfriend. That word sounded bloody good coming from her lips.
‘Get used to it, Sunshine.’
After a few whiskies with Duncan, his raucous laugh and stories started to wear on me and, typically, I could chat with him until the ‘wee’ hours of the morning.
But right now? I wanted to be alone in a massive hotel suite with Lydia, preferably naked, underneath me.
All I could focus on was the iron-like grip of Lydia’s fingers on my thigh, teasing, creeping higher than was strictly appropriate in polite company.
Every accidental brush of our legs sent my blood pounding south, making it nearly impossible to concentrate on Duncan’s latest tale about his niece’s pet rabbit.
I turned slightly, catching the smug little smirk on her lips as she sipped her whisky. She was playing with me, testing my patience. Seeing how long I’d last before I snapped.
I exhaled slowly, gripping my thigh just to stop myself from grabbing her. Get it together, Hunter. But when Lydia shifted in her seat, crossing her legs, I knew she was trying to relieve some of the tension building between them.
Enough.
I downed the rest of my drink, feeling the heat slide down my throat before placing the tumbler down with a quiet thud. ‘Mate, this has been great. I really appreciate it. But we’ve been sleeping in tents for the last three weeks, so we’re going to hit the hay.’
‘The very expensive, luxury hay,’ Lydia added huskily, her lips curled at the corner. She was enjoying this way too much.
Duncan raised his glass. ‘Aye, fair enough. The Glencairn Suite should more than make up for it.’
‘Thanks, mate.’ I got up, reaching for Lydia’s hand. I was one minute away from throwing her over my shoulder like some caveman. She made me pathetic. She let me pull her to her feet, her fingers lacing through mine.
‘Lawrence,’ Duncan called, and I turned, cocking my head.
‘Try not to break the furniture, aye?’ Duncan’s laugh echoed through the quiet bar, empty apart from us.
I shook my head, and Lydia’s replying giggle made me want to do just that.
We stared at each other in the lift up to the suite.
I was near panting, watching Lydia’s chest rise and fall, her pupils dilated.
She bit her lower lip and I couldn’t stop lifting a finger, dragging it out, and rubbing my thumb against it.
I wanted to kiss her right there, but the lift doors opened.
We went down to the end of the hallway, where a door was marked as the Glencairn Suite.
I pushed the card against the pad, relieved when the door gave way, and pulled Lydia in behind me.
I didn’t waste time. I pushed her up against the door, making sure to cushion her head with my palm. I kissed her hard, unable to hold back, but she answered with a moan into my mouth and wrapped her legs around me, and I ground us into the door.