Page 85 of Summer Escapes on the Scottish Isle

The kiss was sweet, tentative, a mere fluttering. Her heart hammering, her pulse soaring to a roar in her ears, she dug her fingers into his hair. Still kissing her, he gently released her legs and she slowly slid to the ground until she was standing upright, her body pressed against his, his arousal making her weak with longing.

It was Mack who ended it, but not before he’d thoroughly explored her mouth.

Resting his forehead against hers, he murmured, ‘We should stop.’

Freya didn’t want to stop. She wanted to kiss him and keep kissing him until—

‘You’re right.’ She breathed slowly, gathering her scattered wits and trying to calm herself.

Mack cleared his throat. ‘Let’s get you home.’

Freya gave him a dubious look. ‘I don’t think carrying me is a good idea. I’ll be fine going barefoot.’

‘You won’t.’ He turned his back on her and she stared at him incredulously. Was he going to walk away and leave her here?

When he crouched down and said, ‘Hop on,’ she was even more incredulous.

‘Are you offering to give me apiggyback?’

‘Hop on,’ he repeated. ‘We should have done this from the get-go.’

Dismay swept over her as his meaning became clear: if he had given her a piggyback in the beginning, they wouldn’t have kissed. When he’d said, ‘We should stop,’ he hadn’t meant they should stop before they got carried away; he’d meant that the kiss had been a mistake.

Hurt and rejected, she pushed past him and stalked off down the path, ignoring the discomfort. She didn’t care if her feet fell off, she had to get away.

Mack strode after her, catching her by the arm before she’d managed more than a handful of steps. ‘Where are you going?’ he demanded.

‘Home.’ She shook him off.

‘What about your feet?’

‘They’ll be fine.’

‘I don’t understand. Have I done something wrong?’

‘You kissed me!’

‘I thought you wanted me to.Youstarted it.’

‘I wish I hadn’t.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise… I misread the situation.’

‘It’s me who misread it. I thought—’ She huffed angrily, but tears lurked behind it. What a bloody awful day. First Hadrian and now Mack.

‘What did you think?’ he asked.

‘It doesn’t matter.’ She made to stalk off again, but he held her back.

‘It matters to me. What did you think?’

She rounded on him. ‘That you liked me.’

‘Idolike you.’ He seemed genuinely puzzled.

‘Not like that.’

‘Like what? Freya, you’re going to have to spell it out for me, because I don’t understand.’

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