Chapter 8
"Do you believe in love at first sight?"
"What?" Riley's voice came through the receiver in a harsh bark. "What the hell is going on Lucy?"
Crap. "Not what I meant," she hurried to revise the blurted-out question, wondering why the hell she said it in the first place. "Not at first sight. More like after a day or two?" Oh, God. She had to stop. Her mouth had a mind of its own and was blubbering idiocy on a grand scale. "Never mind."
"Did you meet someone?"
"No," Lucy said in quick denial, laughing. "Of course not. No. I was just wondering. This place. The house. The Highlands. It's so romantic…" She rolled her eyes at her reflection in the mirror. "Look, I have to go. I'm taking a boating tour of the loch and then a whisky tasting at the local pub."
"What? Lucy—"
"I really have to go, Ri. Talk to you later."
Lucy hung up the phone, heart pounding, completely stunned. What was going on? Was she in love? No. No way. It didn't happen like that. She barely knew him.
Then why had her subconscious voiced the question?
"Crazy talk, that's why," Lucy muttered, grabbing her sweater and heading out the door, shoving images of her and Ian out of her mind.
It had been a while since she had a man in her life, and Lucy was a known dreamer. She leapt ahead, thought of futures, envisioned possibilities. It was who she was. And this time was no different. She was just doing what she always did.
She felt better with each step down the stairs, waved at Hamish as he walked by, and left the castle for the sunny sky and a beautiful loch.
Only it was raining.
Again.
A bulky raincoat-clad figure jogged toward her. "Sorry about the rain," Ian called as he drew near.
Under the eaves of the main entrance, he stopped and gave her a megawatt smile.
There went her stomach again. His hair was wet and so were his eye lashes, making the blue of his eyes more vibrant and striking.
And she just stood there, staring soberly until her mouth went dry and the sound of the rain became distant.
"You dressed for the weather this time," he finally broke the odd pause between them.
"Yeah."
Yeah? That was the best she could come up with?
"Let me grab some rain gear for you. The tour is still on."
After Ian went inside, Lucy let out a long, pent up breath. Her ridiculous phone call with Riley had really messed with her head. She had to get it together.
After donning the rain coat and hood Ian gave her, he grabbed her hand and they ran across the yard to the dock and hopped onto the small boat.
Soon they were coasting across the water.
Definitely not the lazy day floating on the loch that she'd imagined.
Oddly enough though, she wouldn't change a thing.
It felt exhilarating and wild. Her pulse thrummed and energy coursed through her veins as she stood inside the small cabin, her body quickly getting used to the rise and fall of the craft.
"Where are we going?" she asked loudly to be heard over the motor.
"You'll see. Hang tight."
The boat veered left. She yelped and grabbed the railing. Ian smiled, the look in his eyes . . . affectionate.
As they went around around a bend, Lucy's eyes widened. "No way."
On a piece of rocky land jutting into the loch were the ruins of a castle. Jagged tower, crumbling walls… The stones were old and beautiful, the entire site breathtaking against the backdrop of the misty loch and moss covered rocks.
The rain had slowed to a drizzle. The air was so fresh and cool, she wanted to bottle it and take it home with her. Part of her knew she'd never be the same after this trip, that she'd leave part of herself here in this beautiful place.
Ian navigated the boat near the shore, dropped anchor, and then pulled on tall rubber boots before jumping into the cold shallow water. "Hand me that basket," he said, pointing.
She did as he asked, then watched him slosh his way to shore, set the basket on a rock and then return. "Now your turn." He held out his arms.
"My turn. You plan on giving all your guests this kind of personal service?"
An eyebrow lifted and he put on a deep brogue for her benefit. "Nay, not all lass."
"You sound just like Hamish."
He scrubbed a hand down his face and smiled. "I can do a wicked Sean Connery too."
"I'll bet."
They stood there for a long moment. Him staring up at her as she stared down at him. "I really don't see how this is going to work."
"Just put your knee onto the ledge."
Fearing it'd be a disaster, she grabbed his hand, and managed to get her knee onto the ledge of the boat. Ian moved closer. "Wrap your arms around my neck, and I'll pull you off."
She started laughing. "Are you serious? You're either trying to put the moves on me or get me soaking wet."
Ian cocked his head and thought it over. "Both sounds good to me." He chuckled. "Come on, lassie, let's give it a go. Once I pull you away, wrapped your legs around my waist, and I'll walk you to shore."
"That sounds really naughty," she couldn't help laugh, leaning forward, both hands on his wide shoulders, as he wrapped his arms around her middle.
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Walker."
"Me. You're the one who said 'wrap your legs around my waist'," she echoed in a very bad Scottish accent as he pulled her off the boat.
She screamed and held on tight. The last thing she wanted was a cold dip in the loch.
One of Ian's arms supported her rear end, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as tightly as she could.
Even with the rain gear separating them, it felt as naughty as it had sounded.
As he turned, he stumbled. Lucy screamed. "Oh my God, we are so going to fall!"
Ian sputtered a few curses. "Good God, Lucy. Don't climb up me. I can't . . . see. Stop holding my head. Your shoulder is in my face."
Lucy's giggles turned to all out laughter. Her entire body shook as she moved to the left.
"Bloody hell," he bit out, infected by her giggles with laughter of his own. "Stop laughing."
He stumbled again. She screamed. But he made it to shore and set her down, his arms still around her. Lucy gazed up at him, her hood falling off, and her laughter subsiding. Their gazes locked. Their breaths came heavy and loud in the sudden quiet.
She swallowed, clearing her throat. "We made it."
Ian released her. "We Scots are made tough. Braveheart and all that. Come on, the rain's let up. I'll show you the ruins." He removed the rubber boots, grabbed the basket, and then took her hand.
Ian spent the next hour showing her the ruins of the old Castle MacLaren.
It was amazing. The fact that he had such a long and known family history was incredible.
And it meant so much to him. He never said as much, but she could hear it in his voice as he told her about those who built and occupied the castle.
When they returned to the shore, he set out a picnic lunch on a wide flat rock and they ate in the shadow of the ruins. "Thank you," she said, popping a piece of shortbread into her mouth. "For the tour."
"You're welcome."
"Will the ruins be on the activities list too?" He nodded. "You're not worried about vandalism?"
He smiled. "People around here and visitors tend to respect the old sites. The only vandals here are the ones in my family. My parents scratched their initials into the rocks when they married. Grandparents, too, and beyond. A family tradition, I guess."
"And one day, you'll do the same."
"Suppose so."
Ian went quiet as he ate, staring out at the water, his profile thoughtful.
The sun peaked through random patches of clouds, making bright shafts straight down to the water.
Lucy fished in her bag for her camera and snapped some pictures.
She couldn't resist turning it on Ian, able to get a few shots before he caught her.
"You'd have to build a dock, I guess. To get people off the boat," she said
He regarded her for a long moment. "There's a dock around the other side of those rocks."
She stared blankly as his words sank in. Then, she bit out a curse and swatted him hard on the shoulder. "All that trauma for nothing!"
Ian ducked, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughed. "Honey, that wasn't trauma you were feeling."
She laughed so hard her stomach hurt.
Once she recovered, she snapped a picture of him, knowing immediately it was a picture she'd treasure. Him grinning like the devil, the castle and loch in the background.
Ian held out his hand expectantly. Lucy handed over her camera slowly, curious to see what he'd do. Look at the picture? Delete it? But he turned the lens on her and clicked. Oh, great. She rolled her eyes and gave him a frank face, trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips. "Okay, fun's over."
Ian leaned back and looked at the viewing screen.
She expected him to finish and give it back, but then he continued clicking through her pictures.
He seemed engrossed. And suddenly she felt very bare, and very much like his opinion mattered.
She had to bite her tongue and not ask him what he thought.
He finished. "Why aren't you doing this for a living? You could sell these. They're incredible."
She held out her hand and he returned the camera. Her heart was pounding. She didn't want to hear his opinion after all.
"Yet you work for your cousin grooming dogs."
"So?" she said defensively.
"Just trying to figure you out."
"Nothing to figure out. Everyone has to work. Everyone has bills." Lucy began gathering the food and putting the leftovers back into their containers.
"Your photographs are world class, Lucy. World class."