SBC Fighter: Tails Of Love Part 31

"Then why did I see you heading down the promenade only to swing back and run for the road?" Kieran lifted a brow. "You then turned again and sprinted onto the beach."

"So?" Jil y tried to look as if she did such things every day. "I wanted some exercise. I've gained weight on this trip."

The Scot's lips twitched.

She flushed. Actual y she'd lost a few pounds. Traipsing up and down the super-steep Royal Mile in Edinburgh had surely zapped at least two and al the castles and cliff-top ruins she'd explored had taken care of the rest. She'd never been in better shape.

Something about the way Kieran was looking at her told her that he thought so, too. In fact, if he wasn't the world's greatest actor, his expression indicated he found her attractive, maybe even beautiful.

Jil y glanced at the loch, needing to break eye contact with him.

Add knowing how to look at a woman and make her feel special to a Scot's a.r.s.enal of tricks.

She took a deep breath and determined to remain unaffected.

"I think you saw me on the pier and got cold feet." He reached down to stroke Haggis's ears. "You were running back to the inn and-"

"Are you always so concerned with what strangers do?"

She swiped at her hair. "And I wasn't-"

"I find myself concerned when that stranger is you." His voice went a shade deeper. "I'd like to know your name."

"It's Jil y." She glared at him, ignoring the way he made her pulse leap. "Jil y Pepper. And I wasn't running from you.

I-I saw a ghost-two ghosts, an old man and a dog. I was trying to get away from them."

If she'd hoped to shock him, she'd failed.

Far from backing away and leaving her alone, he stepped closer. "Ah, wel , Jil y la.s.s, then I real y would urge you to join Haggis and I. Last time I checked, there weren't any ghosts on the Salty Seal."

"You don't think I'm crazy?" She looked at him as if she wished he thought just that.

Kieran bit back a chuckle. "It'd be a rare Scotsman who'd doubt you saw something odd. We're born knowing there's more in this world than can be readily explained.

Now"-he decided to take a chance and grip her elbow, gently-"if you're stil hedging about letting me show you the loch, then, aye, I might think that's crazy."

"I was expecting a boat tour." Her gaze went past the pier and boathouse to where the Salty Seal bobbed in the water, bright, innocent, and notably empty. "A crowd of sightseers, not just you, me, and Haggis."

Kieran felt a twinge of guilt.

It pa.s.sed with lightning speed.

Across the loch, late afternoon sun edged the clouds and a few slanting rays shone on the mica sand that fringed one of the smal wooded isles where he hoped to take her for a picnic. He smiled, the Gael in him seeing the turn in the weather as a good portent for him and the American tourist who, for reasons he couldn't explain, struck him as so much more.

The way Haggis had taken to her spoke volumes. He ran circles around them as they approached the pier. Looking and acting younger than his nine years, he held his tail high and his eyes sparkled with excitement.

But if Kieran wished to read anything deeper in his dog's attachment to the girl or even in her apparent agreement to go out on the loch with them, his hopes plummeted when they pa.s.sed the boathouse and neared the Salty Seal's mooring.

She stopped short, pul ing her arm from his grasp. "I saw a poster on the boathouse. It had your tour times and four o'clock was one of them. So"-she eyed the boat suspiciously-"where is everybody?"

Haggis sat down and watched him.

Jil y folded her arms, the look on her face proving her to be more persistent than he would have believed.

"I cancel ed the afternoon tour," Kieran admitted, opting for honesty. "Remember I told you there was a story behind my boat's name?" He smiled, hoping to catch her interest.

"The boat is named after Salty the seal. He swam into the loch after losing his way in River Leven. He's been here ever since and is quite a character."

"A seal in Loch Lomond?" She blinked.

Kieran nodded. "He's a fine gray seal with an appet.i.te for fish as great as Haggis's for haggis. The local fishermen tried to catch him and return him to the sea, but Salty eluded them. Final y some of us pitched in and bought Salty a fishing license. Just"-he winked-"to make certain that no one got any funny ideas."

She smiled then, the sight warming Kieran to his toes.

He grinned back at her, feeling ridiculously elated. What was it about her that made him so determined to win her heart? And, he realized with a shock, that's exactly what he was hoping to do.

"That stil doesn't tel me why you cancel ed your afternoon tour."

The statement proved he wasn't succeeding.

Kieran did his best not to frown. "Salty was spotted on my earlier tour, the one that went out right after Haggis ate your lunch," he said, going for a half-truth this time.

He had seen the seal, but he'd cancel ed the later tour because he wanted to be alone with her.

"I thought," he began, starting to untie the Salty Seal's lines, "our chances of seeing him would be greater without a crowd."

"I see."

Kieran risked a glance at her as Haggis leapt into the boat. She'd lifted a hand to her brow and was scanning the loch, clearly keen to catch a glimpse of Salty.

Knowing it was now or never, Kieran jumped into the boat and turned to reach for her, hoping she'd accept his outstretched hands.

When she did, his heart soared. "If we leave now, we might find him on the far side of the loch." He lifted her on board, scarce believing his luck. "He was basking on a rock near the island I'd like to show you."

He indicated a wicker hamper under one of the thwarts.

"We can have a picnic there. It's my way of making up for Haggis ruining your lunch."

"And Haggis?" She pul ed the crumpled note from her pocket and waved it. "Wil he final y get to eat his haggis?"

"Och! I'm thinking he'l be too ful ." Kieran laughed and nudged an empty dish with his foot. "He got into the haggis supply before I even-"

He broke off, remembering what he'd written. Equal y d.a.m.ning, the picnic hamper was tightly secured with leather straps. Haggis's haggis dish sat in plain sight, the smeared remains of his favorite treat irrefutable evidence that he hadn't been denied a thing.

Haggis barked, sounding amused.

Heat shot up Kieran's neck. "Er . . ." He tripped over his tongue. "I can explain-"

"Please don't." Jil y settled herself on a bench and started smiling again. "It's been a long time since a man went to such trouble to get my attention."

She reached to pet Haggis when he thumped down beside her. "I'm quite flattered and"-she looked out over the loch as the boat started away from the pier-"a seal sighting and a picnic sound wonderful."

Kieran grinned and swung the Salty Seal toward their destination. If the loch G.o.ds were kind and with a little help from his four-legged friend, this afternoon's outing would be the first of many.

Jil y Pepper was a keeper.

He had no intention of letting her go.

CHAPTER THREE.

Hours later, Jil y sat on her bed at the Colquhoun Arms and kept tel ing herself there was no such thing as love at first sight. Even so, she couldn't resist slipping to her feet and going to the dresser where her digital camera and a handful of smooth, round pebbles proved her wrong.

Photos didn't lie.

And the way her breath caught when she touched the stones only confirmed her suspicion. Gathered on the sh.o.r.e of the islet where Kieran had taken her for a picnic, the pebbles were more than mementoes.

They transported her back to the moment she'd col ected them and heard Kieran's shout that he'd spotted Salty.

She'd thrust the pebbles into her pocket and grabbed her camera, aiming it to where the seal frolicked in the water.

Enchanted, she'd watched as he rol ed bel y up and peered at them with his round, inquisitive eyes.

"O-o-oh!" she'd cried, snapping pictures as she ran to Kieran at the water's edge.

Losing her footing on the wet shingle, she'd plowed right into him. He'd whipped around, catching her by the shoulders and then held her just a breath longer than was necessary for her to regain her balance.

In that instant, her world tilted. She'd also seen a flash of heightened awareness in his eyes. The air shifted, crackling as if charged with electricity. He'd lowered his head to kiss her, but she'd jerked free, breaking the magic.

And there had been magic.

Remembering sent shivers through her and made her heart thunder.

If he'd kissed her, she'd have been lost.

Jil y flattened her hand across the pebbles, pressing down on them until they stopped feeling like living, breathing memories and were once again nothing more than stones from the sh.o.r.e.

A pity she couldn't do the same with the photos.

Frowning, she studied the camera lying so innocently on the dresser. Maybe if she stared at it long enough the incriminating pictures would disappear. Or at least morph into something less d.a.m.ning.

Unfortunately that wasn't going to happen.

And she knew she wouldn't be deleting the shots.

But she could remind herself why the photos shouldn't matter.

So she reached for her grandmother's locket, its age- smoothed silver warm beneath her fingers. Heart-shaped and engraved with two thistles, the stems entwined in intimate embrace, the locket held a twist of auburn hair and a tiny cutting of plaid.

Treasures Margo Clare had cherished al her days.

Remnants of the tragic love affair that had stolen the light from her life and left her soul bereft. Jil y tightened her fingers around the locket, more aware than ever of its sobering message.

Long distance romances didn't work.

And it was always the woman whose heart would be broken.

Of course, according to Jil y's grandmother, Alastair MacCol had been worth the risk. Big, brawny, and with a shock of red hair, he'd had flashing blue eyes and more charm than was good for him. As a gifted artist and pa.s.sionate kilt-wearer, he'd needed less than a glance to bring world-traveler, Margo Clare, to her knees.

Her plans to hop trains and see Europe in a summer vanished as Jil y's grandmother spent her holiday in the Scotsman's arms, only returning home to announce her pending marriage and move to Scotland.

Alastair's letter ending their relationship reached the States before Margo. The missive's cold tone proved what a fool she'd been.

Now the letter rested inside Jil y's purse, yel owed, brittle, and ink-faded. Waiting, as did the locket, for her to perform a closure ceremony at Alastair MacCol 's grave. A ritual she'd agreed to do because it'd been her grandmother's dying wish.

Only if she burned the letter and tucked the locket into the cold, waiting earth would Margo Clare find peace in Heaven.

Or so the old woman believed.

Jil y's heart began to hammer and she could almost feel the locket pulsing against her skin again, each silvery vibration admonishing her with five echoing words. Don't make the same mistake. Don't make the same mistake.

Don't . . .

Frustrated, she spun away from the dresser and started toward her bed.

She took exactly three steps before she huffed out a breath and wheeled around to s.n.a.t.c.h her camera and retrieve her photos of Salty.

But it wasn't the seal's black domed head that caught her eye.

It was the back view of Kieran as he stood on the sh.o.r.e looking out at the loch. The width of his shoulders and how the evening light glinted on his dark hair, revealing a touch of chestnut she'd only noticed on studying the photos.

She also couldn't miss how companionably Haggis sat beside him and that in one of the photos Kieran was scratching the dog behind his ears.

A man who loved dogs couldn't be bad.

How people felt about dogs had always been her measure of a person.

She clicked through the photos, the memory of their almost-kiss burning inside her until she shut down the viewing screen and tossed the camera onto the bed.

She couldn't- wouldn't-get involved with a Scotsman from Luss.