Chapter 3

3

G ennie rolled down the window of her rental car. The crisp Scottish fall air rushed in and ruffled her hair. A smile spread across her face. She’d done it. She’d finally escaped the choking smog of L.A. and all the toxic drama.

Scotland. Hell, yeah!

The land of lochs and glens and sexy accents. She couldn’t wait to see what adventures awaited her.

The landscape blurred by in a kaleidoscope of gold and red as the sun set, gently rolling hills in the background. The colours were so vivid, they hardly seemed real. It was like driving through a postcard. On the wrong side, true, but her job made her an excellent driver. She zipped along the tree-lined road as the engine purred beneath her like a fat, contented cat.

Ugh, why did Daniel’s face have to pop up in her brain right now? This was a glorious, peaceful moment. Fuck him. He didn’t want her, not really. Not all of her, at least not all the time. Whatever. She was ready to move on and stop wondering what was going on in his twisted head. She really wanted to be ready.

Gennie cranked up the radio until the bass pulsed in her bones. Kelly Clarkson’s Since U Been Gone blared from the speaker. She belted along, croaky and off-key, but who cared?

The road led her deeper into the heart of Perthshire. After another hour, Gennie drew closer to her destination – Glenwood Estate. Maybe ten minutes to go. The taste of a fresh start danced on her tongue.

Suddenly, the GPS screen flickered out like a snuffed candle.

‘Shit.’ Gennie slapped the useless piece of plastic and took her foot off the accelerator a little. She squinted at the road signs, but they might as well have been written in Klingon for all the sense they made. Blairgowrie? Pitlochry? Blairdrochaid?

A moment later, she stopped in a passing cove and tried her cell, but there was no reception. Nada. Zip. Zilch. That was the thing about remote places. Sure, the edge of the earth might be easy on the eyes – but good luck finding so much as a decent cell signal, let alone any actual signs of life beyond a couple cows and flocks of sheep. Luckily, there was only one road ahead. So she couldn’t go too wrong, just too far. Still – this far north, it got dark early in fall. As a hint of panic seized her throat, the neon signs of a gas station materialised in the distance like a beacon of hope.

After five minutes, Gennie swerved into the parking area, grit spraying under her tyres. She hopped out and closed the door behind her with a thud. The air smelled of gasoline and impending rain, but she hardly noticed.

Because…whoa, momma.

The second Gennie saw the lone man at the pumps in the dusk, filling up a Land Rover that had seen better days, every other thought evaporated from her brain.

This guy was something else.

Tall and broad-shouldered, with a shock of tawny hair that fell across his forehead in a sweep. Even from a distance, she sensed the coiled strength in his solid frame. This dude oozed enough wild, dark magnetism to short-circuit the grid.

Maybe that’s why my GPS gave up.

Gennie’s mouth went dry as she drank him in. He had the look of a disgruntled former RL model, who now spent his days rage-chopping wood and wrangling sheep – by choice. When their eyes met from across the lot for a second, an electric charge zinged straight to her core.

He seemed to be the only one around, apart from the cashier. So why not ask him for directions? A little bit of thrill had never stopped her before. Quite the opposite, actually.

Gennie walked over slowly, and her heart did a funny little flip in her chest. ‘Hi.’

He froze. His whole body radiated tension and defence, as if he was ready to jump into his car and speed off.

‘What do you want?’ His voice was gruff, yet his Scottish brogue slid over her skin like a coarse caress.

‘Sorry to bother you, but I’m kind of lost and my GPS has given up the ghost. Cell doesn’t work, either. Can you help me out?’

He turned around and the second he faced her with that wary expression, Gennie’s insides wrapped up tighter than a twisted pretzel. His eyes were striking, stormy blue. The kind of eyes that could pin a girl down on her back with one look.

He took a few seconds to answer her question, and part of the tension seemed to slide off his shoulders – like a chunk of ice off a glacier. ‘So you’re American. Where are you headed?’

Oh… Please don’t ever stop talking.

‘Yeah, I am. Glenwood Estate. I’m supposed to be staying in one of the camping pods, but I don’t think I can find the place.’ She let out a short laugh. Like a giddy sixteen-year-old.

He studied her with a penetrating stare that measured more than her question. Something flickered in his narrowed eyes, there and gone too quickly for her to decipher.

‘It’s not far from here.’

Relief washed over her and chased away the chill of the evening air. ‘Really? Awesome. I don’t suppose you can give me directions? I can repay you in bad jokes.’

He hesitated, his jaw working beneath the dusting that shadowed his chin. His gaze never left hers and bored into her eyes. It made her feel out of her depth, and that rarely ever happened.

Wow, this guy’s really got some stare.

Gennie held her breath and half-hoped she’d never exhale again if it meant basking in that electric undercurrent for a second longer. She suddenly wanted him to say yes. Because there was something about that tall, grouchy Scottish man-mountain that made her synapses sizzle.

‘Tell one’, he said at last.

‘Tell what?’

‘A bad joke. If it’s bad enough, I’ll take you to Glenwood myself.’

Gennie blinked, convinced she’d heard wrong. ‘You don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’ve got better things planned than to escort some stupid, lost American around Perthshire.’

‘Nope.’ He crossed his muscular arms over his chest. No sign of a smirk or a wink, he was dead serious. ‘The joke?’

She gulped and felt like a schoolgirl with a crush on the hot new teacher. ‘Okay, so… Why don’t skeletons fight each other?’

He arched a quizzical eyebrow.

‘Because they don’t have the guts.’

She noticed the subtle movement at the corner of his mouth and ached to see those firm lips curl into a full, panty-melting grin.

‘That was terrible. I’ll take you there. Just follow my car.’

Oh, she could follow that tight rear end all the way to the moon. ‘You really don’t have to.’

‘Wouldn’t want you veering off the road in the dark and landing in a ditch. Can be tricky round here.’

She let out a breathless laugh. ‘Fair enough. I’m Gennie, by the way. Gennie Rivers. And that’s Gennie with a G. In case you wondered, which…you probably didn’t.’ She rolled her eyes at her own babbling.

This is so not you.

‘I’m…Nathan. Just Nathan.’ Reluctantly, he took her offered hand, the skin warm and rough against her palm. A buzz shot up her arm. Even his hands were sexy. A little cracked, large, and sinfully strong.

‘Lead the way, Nathan.’ She was proud of how steady her voice sounded.

He turned towards his mud-splattered Land Rover and started the engine. Gennie followed him in her rental and her pulse boomed in her veins. There was something exhilarating about going after him. About the way his broad shoulders filled out his worn flannel shirt.

And about the fact that he’d held on to her hand for a second too long.

The drive to Glenwood was a blur of winding back roads and confusing thoughts. What was wrong with her? She didn’t usually go for blondes. Or older guys. Or total strangers. Yet he had a mysterious charm, as if he was harbouring a secret.

All too soon, they passed a moss-green sign with ‘Glenwood’ written in pale gold letters. It was so small she nearly missed it. Nathan brought his jeep to a stop, and she halted her car next to his.

He motioned for her to roll down her window. ‘The pods are that way’, he gestured to the right, ‘there’s a car park, too.’

In the back of his Land Rover, she saw a blonde girl sleeping in a car seat. He had a little kid. Of course he had. A total snack like that wouldn’t be single.

‘I hope you find what you’re looking for here, Gennie with a G.’

She swallowed. ‘So do I.’

For an endless beat, they just stared at each other across the space between their cars. The static crackle was so palpable, she felt the voltage on her skin. That – and the wild urge to lean over and run her fingers through his dishevelled hair.

He cleared his throat and looked away, breaking the spell. ‘Night.’

The rumble of his voice lapped over her, and she nodded too often, too quickly. ‘Right. Yes. Of course. Night.’ That was all she could force past her dry lips, just shy of grunting like a cavewoman. ‘Thanks again.’

‘Nae bother.’

He waited until she’d turned her car before he drove off in the opposite direction. In her rear view, she saw the taillights of his Land Rover being swallowed by the darkness.

Mind still racing, she drove along the dirt track to the edge of the estate and parked her car.

The sleeping pod the production team had arranged for her was nestled between nineteen others among the towering trees. That’s where some of the crew stayed. She stepped inside, and the door closed behind her with a soft click. The lights flickered ominously before they settled into a steady glow. A single bed, a small kitchenette stocked with essentials, and a bathroom with a surprisingly spacious shower – the wooden interior was simple but comfortable.

Gennie dropped her bags on the floor. The exhaustion of the long flight finally caught up with her. She moved to the window and her breath fogged the glass as she took in the unfamiliar landscape. The forest stretched out before her, moonlight casting a silvery glow that made the tall trees shimmer against the inky sky. It was still, heavy, and full.

As she brushed her teeth, her thoughts returned to Nathan, the mysterious Scotsman with an edge as rugged and mysterious as this landscape. She would have loved to see his frown turn into laughter.

God, this was so lame. Gennie flopped onto the bed. She’d only known the man for five minutes. He was a hundred per cent married with a dozen more kids. And she’d probably never see him again anyway.

Too fucking bad.

As sleep crept in, thoughts of Nathan danced behind her eyelids. The timbre of his voice, the heat of his gaze on her skin, the touch of his big hands as her lips met his…

But sleep knocked her out before she got to the really good part.