Page 42 of Scot on the Run
Bella packed and unpacked her suitcase half a dozen times in the next seventy-two hours. She had plenty of casual clothes for exploring Edinburgh and the surrounding countryside, but nothing remotely suitable for a formal visit to Holyrood Palace in the company of Bachelor #2.
Hopefully, she would be able to find what she needed while helping Ian pick out a tux. Honestly, she was surprised he didn’t already own one. Her ankle was recovering nicely, so she wouldn’t have to show up in sneakers, thank goodness.
She and Ian had spent very little time together since their confrontation in the kitchen. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been well-versed in how to act during an awkward morning after. Her only saving grace was that Ian still had no clue she had fled from his bed the moment after sex. A more sophisticated woman would have slept for a while, maybe tried again in the middle of the night, and been more vocal about her wants and needs.
Bella was book smart, but she was a failure as a femme fatale.
Fortunately, she had plenty of things on which to focus on other than her own shortcomings, namely her responsibilities to her brother.
Already, Finley’s charming house seemed like home. Though two different local teenagers would be tending to Cinnamon in Bella’s absence, there were still items to be taken care of: mail, bills, and the like. Not to mention laundry, packing, and creating a list of all the points of interest in Edinburgh.
In between clothes shopping and the fancy ceremony, Ian had promised to play tour guide. She planned to hold him to that.
At last Wednesday morning rolled around. Ian had rescued his rental sedan from town and had it washed and filled with petrol, as he called it. All that was left was to load the car and lock up the house.
Poor Cinnamon’s ears drooped and her tail wagged sadly. She had to know they were leaving. Bella crouched and scratched the dog’s belly. “It’s only three days, my sweet. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“What about me?” Ian asked, lounging in the doorway, watching her with a sharp gaze.
She stood and shrugged. “I assumed we’d part company after the ceremony. You heading on to London. Me back here.”
Ian bristled. “Don’t shoo me out the door yet. Finley said I could stay as long as I wanted. I’m not ready to return to London and the rat race. Portree is a delightful wee town. I barely know it yet, so I might stay the whole time you’re here. Perhaps longer.”
“Is that some kind of threat? I have my novel to work on. You’d be in my way.” This was her turf. Sort of. How dare Ian Larrimore worm his way into what was left of her vacation?
Before he could answer, her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. She scowled at Ian and held up a hand. “We’re not done with this conversation.”
Turning her back on her tormentor, she swiped to answer the call and smiled. “Hey, Finley. What’s up?”
Her brother’s voice was cheerful. “Mornin’, Bella. How’s Portree? How’s Cinnamon? How’s my ornery baby sister?”
“No complaints. Is anything wrong?” She hadn’t expected to hear from Finley while he was on his honeymoon…at least not often.
“Nothing serious.”
Her heart sank. “What happened?”
“Well, McKenzie got food poisoning, and then about the time she felt better, the two of us accidentally fell asleep in the sun, and now she has a bad sunburn. Poor baby just wants to come home.”
“Oh, no. I’m so sorry, but no worries. I’ll move over to the hotel and give you your privacy.”
“Absolutely not.”
She had to hold the phone away from her ear. Finley’s protest was loud and vehement. “You’re newlyweds,” she said. “This is your house. It wouldn’t be right for me to stay.”
“McKenzie and I will take it as a personal insult if you or Finley try to leave. I’m dead serious about this, Bella. My bride and I have had almost four weeks of wedded bliss. I think we can handle a bit of company. I’ll move things around in my office and get a bed from the attic for you. There’s plenty of room.”
“If you’re sure…” She didn’t argue anymore. After a day or two, Finley would see that the sweet old house was a little too cozy for a man and his new wife and two extra people.
“I insist. We’re planning to fly back on Friday. See you then—”
“Oh, but wait…” It was too late. Finley ended the call.
“Well, that’s just peachy,” she muttered.
Ian jingled his keys in his hand. “What is it?”
“Finley and McKenzie have decided to come home early. They’re adamant that neither of us are expected to leave… In fact, they want us to stay. So I need your help for a few minutes. It won’t take long. They’ll be here before you and I return from Edinburgh. I need to change the sheets, and I want to have all of my stuff out of the master suite.”