Five Days in Skye: A Novel by Carla Laureano Page B

biscuits?”
    Andrea returned the drawings to the galvanized tub and tucked the pad and pencil back into the desk drawer. “It’s never too early for biscuits.”
    “You’re my kind of woman.” He retrieved a package of cookies from the cupboard, placed a few on a plate, and set them on the table before her. He finished making up their tea and took the chair next to her. “What now?”
    “I’d like to see your business and marketing plans, if you have them handy.”
    “I don’t. Besides, I meant what do we do now? It’s only half past ten. You’re not supposed to meet Ian until one. I think hospitality demands I give you a tour of Sleat.”
    “I should probably get started on my proposal.”
    “You should, but you won’t.”
    She took a sip of her tea, trying to hide her smile behind the cup. “Why won’t I?”
    “Because you can’t resist the chance to spend a few hours with me seeing the sights. I assure you, I am an excellent guide.”
    Two or three hours in the car with him, doing something strictly recreational? He might have behaved himself this morning, but she didn’t expect that to last long. Now that he knew which buttons to push, he wouldn’t hesitate to do it. Over and over.
    The thought reminded her of his comment in the bar about her clothing. The attraction was not one-sided. She just had absolutely no intention of giving into it. He, on the other hand …
    No, he wasn’t the kind of man to force the issue. She knew that much with certainty. This was all just some game, a battle of the sexes, and he wanted to make her break first. Which, of course, she wouldn’t do. If she kept refusing to be alone with him, he’d just keep pushing the issue.
    “All right,” she said finally. “On one condition.”
    “What’s that?”
    “You have to deliver me to the meeting with Ian on time. Not a minute late.”
    “If you insist.”
    “Good. Let’s go then.” Andrea stood and straightened her skirt. “I’ll get my bag.”
    James beat her to the door with his long-legged stride and opened it for her, deliberately crowding her so they stood face-to-face, only inches apart.
    “Thank you.” She met his gaze levelly, even though her heartbeat was already accelerating. She lowered her eyes and moved quickly past him.
    No two ways about it. This was a very bad idea.

Chapter Eleven
    The woman was a complete mystery.
    One minute, she’d give as good as she got with that sharp tongue and equally sharp mind. The next, she’d withdraw behind a shell of cold professionalism. It was like seeing two different people, and James was never sure which one would surface.
    Then there was the Andrea who would sit on the floor with Emmy or improvise on the piano with such a joyous expression it made his heart flip. Why was she so determined to hide that part of herself?
    James cursed himself for a fool. For a short moment, he’d thought he and Andrea had been building some sort of rapport, then he had to ruin it by pushing matters too far. Now, fifteen minutes into their drive down the Sleat peninsula, she still hadn’t said a word. She just sat stiffly in the seat, hands folded in her lap, staring into the distance. He’d wager she wasn’t seeing a bit of the glorious scenery flying by the window.
    Why do you even care?
    He didn’t. Or, he hadn’t, until he saw the look on her face as she watched the sunrise, as if years of worries had fallen from her shoulders. If he hadn’t witnessed the wistfulness in her expression as she talked about the restoration, he would have written it off to his imagination. But he knew that feeling well. It was too easy to let the demands of life suffocate him and drown out God’s still, small voice, until the days became just an endless list. Something inside him recognized she needed a breath as much as he did.
    He left her to her musings as he took the two-lane road through a forested section of Sleat and followed the River Ord until it emptied out near the shore.