Page 20 of Summer Escapes on the Scottish Isle

‘To Duncoorie.’

She giggled. ‘Are we going to your place?’

‘Er, no.’

‘Then you won’t be driving,’ she shot back. ‘Go on, have a drink and don’t be so uptight.’

‘I’ve got an early start in the morning,’ he replied, his thoughts going to Freya. She’d said the very same thing. Idly, he wondered what she was doing now, then wished he hadn’t, because she was probably with the guy she’d spoken to on the phone.

Since he’d left her yesterday, she had crept into his mind on and off, and he couldn’t think why. Was it because he hadn’t seen her for so long that—

‘Oi!’ Tori nudged his arm. ‘Drink,’ she reminded him.

He got to his feet. ‘Do you mind if I take you home now?’

Tori peered up at him blearily. ‘Ooh, aren’t you keen! Is that why you’re not drinking, so you can keep going all night?’

Mack blanched. ‘I won’t be staying. Let me take you home,’ he repeated.

‘Why?’ She was pouting again.

‘To make sure you get to your accommodation safely.’

‘My friends are over there.’ She pointed to the other side of the crowded bar. ‘So there’s no point in you taking me back, if we’re not going to…’ She trailed off and made a face.

Good grief! He knew she was on holiday and wouldn’t be expecting more than a fling, but he would never give a woman the sort of ultimatum Tori had given him. She was basically telling him to sleep with her or bugger off.

However, he felt guilty for abandoning her after he’d asked her out, even if her friends were nearby, so he tried again. ‘Are you sure I can’t drop you off on the way?’

‘I’m sure.’ She was no longer looking at him and when he followed her gaze, he saw a group of men – and one of them was staring in her direction.

‘I hope you enjoy the rest of your holiday,’ he said.

‘I’ll try my best,’ was her reply.

Mack hadn’t made it to the exit before she was in the thick of the group. Shrugging, he went home to his solitary but infinitely more preferable bed.

Freya disentangled herself from the 500-count Egyptian cotton sheets and slipped out of bed.

Hadrian turned onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. He was watching her dispassionately as she reached for her clothes. She really didn’t feel like trekking halfway across the city at eleven thirty at night, but it was better than getting up at six a.m., especially on a morning when she had a long drive ahead of her.

Fastening her bra, she wished she hadn’t allowed Hadrian to persuade her to go back to his place, but his flat was the nearest to the restaurant he’d taken her to, so that was where she’d ended up.

‘Will you be back next weekend?’ he asked, and she let out an incredulous sigh.

‘Don’t be daft.’

His eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to being called daft. But honestly! It wasn’t like she was popping to Oxford or Brighton. Skye was almost the full length of the country.

‘When, then?’ Hadrian demanded.

‘I don’t know. I’ve got to go,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a long drive.’

‘Maybe I’ll visit. Inspiration, and all that jazz.’

‘Not to seeme?’ she snapped, more sharply than she’d intended.

He chuckled. ‘Of course to see you. That goes without saying.’

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