Page 35 of Summer Escapes on the Scottish Isle

Ah, right. ‘Yours.’ And with a wry smile at her silliness, she added, ‘Please.’

She and Mack were clearly not on the same wavelength. They had nothing in common, not even a sense of humour, which was fortunate, considering how attractive she found him. For a brief fling, he would be ideal – good-looking, considerate, sexy as hell – but not for anything more serious.

However, as she wasn’t in the market for either, it was irrelevant.

Reminding herself she had a boyfriend who was far more in tune with her than Mack could ever be, Freya resolved to enjoy the meal, then put him firmly out of her mind.

Chapter 11

A few seconds later, Mack pulled up alongside a house set on a hillside with views over the loch. It was a lovely spot, but Mack’s nearest neighbour probably wasn’t within screaming distance, and a frisson of unease shivered through her as Freya realised just how alone she would be with this man.

Oh, for goodness’ sake, she told herself. She’d known Mack since they were kids. OK, she mightn’t have known him well, in that they’d never hung out together, but they’d gone to the same primary and secondary schools. Anyway, his mum lived two doors up from her dad. Mack was hardly a stranger or a serial killer. She’d been living in the city too long, seeing danger around every corner.

‘Didn’t you used to live near the post office?’ she asked.

‘That was years ago. Mum sold the house when I moved out. Said it was too big for her, now she’s on her own. Carter was already married by then.’ He showed her into a little porch, and she looked around curiously.

‘Bathroom’s through that door there.’ He pointed to a door directly in front, with a set of stairs next to it.

To her right, through an open door, she could see a bedroom, and to her left was a sitting room. When she followed him into it, she saw there was a kitchen beyond, with a boot room-cum-utility room leading off it. The house was modern and light, with white walls, yet had a cosy feel. She’d been expecting something rougher, more in keeping with his job maybe, and she chastised herself for being so judgemental.

‘Make yourself at home,’ he told her, unlacing his work boots. She noticed he was wearing odd socks, and the sight was strangely endearing.

Slinging her bag onto the sofa, Freya removed the fleece she was still wearing and folded it carefully. ‘Would you like me to launder it?’

‘Was it dirty?’ He looked worried.

‘No, but I’ve been wearing it, so…’ She suddenly felt its lack. Despite not being cold, she’d found it comforting. When he’d first given it to her, she’d felt self-conscious wearing something of his, and she hadn’t been able to prevent herself from sniffing it. It had smelt of him. Now the fabric only smelt of the outdoors, with a vague hint of the Paco Rabanne perfume she favoured.

‘Och, it’ll be fine,’ he said.

She placed it on the arm of the sofa and wondered what to do with herself.

Mack didn’t have any such worries. ‘Let me log on to the computer and you can have a play with the photos while I fetch the prawns.’

‘Excuse me?’ Weren’t they in the kitchen, ready and waiting?Please don’t tell me he has to go out and buy some, she thought.Or worse, catch them!

‘Tavish will have dropped them off for me on his way home.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘He leaves them in the byre – the old cowshed out the back. This used to be a farmhouse long ago, you see. Anyway, I’ve got a fridge out there, just for the purpose.’

‘Ah, I see.’

‘The food will be ready in half an hour, if that’s all right?’

‘Brilliant. I’m hungry.’

‘Aye, I thought you might be. So am I.’

While he set up the computer, she scanned the room: wooden floors, log burner, battered leather sofas, artwork on the walls. One of the pieces caught her eye. It was a stunning picture of a loch, with a small beach and mountains behind. Made mostly of sea glass, there were also some shells, small pebbles and driftwood, and it was gorgeous.

‘There you go,’ Mack said, and gestured for her to take his seat at the computer.

He left her to it, and she was soon engrossed in the task of sifting through the photos she’d taken earlier. Gradually, though, an enticing aroma began to distract her, until eventually it made her tummy rumble and her mouth water. If the smell was any indication, this meal promised to be delicious.

Mack popped his head around the sitting-room door. ‘Five minutes?’

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