Page 10 of Lachlan

That heat had dulled slightly now, but there was still an underlying hum to her senses that made her totally aware of everything about this man.

Most especially what she could describe as an animal magnetism. It held her completely captive and had caused that uncharacteristic arousal.

She kept her gaze lowered, her physical response making it difficult for her to meet the hungry intensity she’d seen in those icy gray eyes.

Hungry, as if this man wanted to eat her?

Or hungry in that he felt the same physical draw toward her as she did toward him?

Of course he wasn’t feeling either of those things, she inwardly snorted.

For one thing, he definitely didn’t look like a cannibal.

He was also at least fourteen or fifteen years older than her. Which probably meant he also saw her as an irresponsible childfor having wandered alone up the mountain, rather than as the practical and sensible woman she really was.

He was dressed casually, but Belle was familiar enough with wearing cheap clothing to know that Lachlin’s jacket was made of butter-soft leather and his T-shirt and jeans were also designer label. His feet were so big, she was sure he must have his boots custom-made.

Indicating a wealth that suggested he could be the local lord of the manor, or the laird, which was the Scottish equivalent.

Belle frowned as she recalled his previous comment. “Did none of the McGregor family bother to look for me when I didn’t return to the house yesterday evening?”

He shrugged those wide shoulders. “It was dark and late by the time they realized you were missing. Ben and his father went out for a few hours this morning, but when they found no sign of you and the blizzard worsened, they called off their search.” His eyes narrowed. “They didn’t come out again because Ben seemed to be of the opinion you weren’t enjoying yourself and that you had probably just taken a train back to London.”

She recoiled in surprise. “Without first saying goodbye or thank you?”

Lachlan grimaced. “Ben thought it likely, yes.”

Probably because Ben, annoyed with her for rejecting him the night before, couldn’t be bothered to carry on looking for her.

Bastard!

Ever since someone broke into her room before Christmas, Belle had taken to carrying her most precious belongings around with her in her backpack. Not that she had many of those, but habitmeant she’d brought her backpack up the mountain with her yesterday. The one she still gripped tightly against her.

It not only contained everything she’d brought with her to Scotland, toiletries, and several changes of clothes, but also what she considered to be the most important of Sister Agnes’s journals.

Which, she now realized, would have left nothing in the bedroom she’d occupied at the McGregors’ house to indicate she was coming back.

But Ben must have known she wouldn’t just up and leave without thanking his parents for their hospitality.

Whatever Ben might havethoughthappened to her, he could have at least tried to check on her by calling her. Yes, she’d had no reception up the mountain, and her cell would probably have already been out of power by the time he maybe thought of doing it. But the fact he couldn’t reach her might perhaps have alerted him to the fact that something was wrong. Somehow, she doubted he had even tried.

She scowled. “Are the trains even running right now?”

“Probably not.” Lachlan shrugged.

“Then how the hell did they think— Never mind,” she dismissed irritably.

“Was Ben right about you not enjoying yourself?” he probed.

Belle winced. “I don’t drink alcohol, and the Hogmanay celebrations were very noisy and went on for a long time.”

His eyebrows rose. “You didn’t want to spend the New Year with your family?”

She shrugged. “I don’t have any family.”

“None at all?”

“No.” Belle frowned slightly when she again briefly thought she saw that blaze of fire deep in the depth of Lachlan Drake’s eerily pale eyes.

---