with sonar equipment haven’t found anything—but they haven’t definitely disproved Nessie’s existence either. And you do see strange things on the loch sometimes. I’ve been out fishing on it—there are weird currents across and below the surface, and people have seen sturgeon swimming across. Some people claim to have seen dolphins.’
‘Surely it’s too cold here for dolphins?’ Kirsty asked.
He shrugged. ‘Who knows?’
She stared across the deep waters. It was a cloudless day, warm even for springtime, and the lake was an unfathomable expanse of blue that reminded her of Ben’s eyes. Ben’s eyes, which were also becoming unfathomable these days.
‘Ben, don’t go filling the girl’s head with nonsense. There isn’t a monster,’ Morag declared briskly. ‘He’s telling tall tales.’
And they’d both told Morag an even taller tale—that they were engaged.
She became aware that Ben was talking about the local wildlife. He sounded wistful—almost, Kirsty thought, as if he wanted to come home to settle down. And if he did that…would she ever see him again? His wife certainly wouldn’t want Ben’s plain little doctor friend popping up to see them, even infrequently. Especially if she had any idea that Kirsty was in love with her husband.
She closed her eyes momentarily. In love with Ben? Of course not.
And yet she couldn’t get that kiss out of her mind. Or the way she’d woken up to find herself intimately tangled with him…
‘Hmm?’ she asked, aware that Ben was looking at her as if waiting for an answer.
‘Scotland’s really turned your head, hasn’t it?’ he teased. ‘You’re not listening to a single word I say.’
She flushed. ‘Sorry.’
‘All I asked was if you wanted a cup of coffee,’ he said mildly.
‘Oh. Yes, please.’ Please, don’t let her start being awkward with him.
Ben gave her a look she couldn’t read, then unscrewed the lid from the flask, poured coffee into a mug and handed it to her.
‘Thanks.’
Somehow she made it through the rest of lunch—chatting with Morag, teasing Ben and eating the glorious picnic he’d packed—and then Morag declared that she wanted to pop in to see a friend, and the young couple should have a romantic walk along the lochside.
They returned the rug and the remains of their picnic to the car, and then Ben slipped his arm around Kirsty’s shoulders. ‘Gran’ll expect it,’ he warned her softly, whispering in her ear to make it look as if he were making some lover-like private comment.
A little hesitantly, she slipped her arm around his waist, and they walked back down to the lochside. Though she noted that Ben didn’t move his arm from her shoulder, even when Morag was well out of sight, and she felt too awkward to make a point of moving her arm from his waist.
They walked in silence for what seemed like hours. Kirsty didn’t know what to say to break the tension without being inane. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed her that morning. Worse still, she found herself actually wondering what it would be like if he kissed her again. Right now.
Then she felt his fingertips brush her jaw. She stopped and turned to face him.
‘Kirst.’
Was he going to kiss her again? Her pulse quickened at the thought.
‘Do you think Gran might…well, if I stay out of the way for a bit…tell you what’s going on?’
‘I’ll do what I can,’ she promised.
‘Thanks.’ He drew her towards him then—but his kiss was that of a best friend, on her forehead. Not a lover’s kiss on her mouth. Not a kiss like he’d given her that morning.
Stop it, she warned herself. He might be Dr Charming but you’re not Cinderella. You’re not a tall, leggy blonde and you’re most definitely not his type. He doesn’t think of you in that way. This morning didn’t mean anything to him, so don’t make a big deal out of it.
She knew all that. She’d known it for years. So why did it hurt so much
‘Surely it’s too cold here for dolphins?’ Kirsty asked.
He shrugged. ‘Who knows?’
She stared across the deep waters. It was a cloudless day, warm even for springtime, and the lake was an unfathomable expanse of blue that reminded her of Ben’s eyes. Ben’s eyes, which were also becoming unfathomable these days.
‘Ben, don’t go filling the girl’s head with nonsense. There isn’t a monster,’ Morag declared briskly. ‘He’s telling tall tales.’
And they’d both told Morag an even taller tale—that they were engaged.
She became aware that Ben was talking about the local wildlife. He sounded wistful—almost, Kirsty thought, as if he wanted to come home to settle down. And if he did that…would she ever see him again? His wife certainly wouldn’t want Ben’s plain little doctor friend popping up to see them, even infrequently. Especially if she had any idea that Kirsty was in love with her husband.
She closed her eyes momentarily. In love with Ben? Of course not.
And yet she couldn’t get that kiss out of her mind. Or the way she’d woken up to find herself intimately tangled with him…
‘Hmm?’ she asked, aware that Ben was looking at her as if waiting for an answer.
‘Scotland’s really turned your head, hasn’t it?’ he teased. ‘You’re not listening to a single word I say.’
She flushed. ‘Sorry.’
‘All I asked was if you wanted a cup of coffee,’ he said mildly.
‘Oh. Yes, please.’ Please, don’t let her start being awkward with him.
Ben gave her a look she couldn’t read, then unscrewed the lid from the flask, poured coffee into a mug and handed it to her.
‘Thanks.’
Somehow she made it through the rest of lunch—chatting with Morag, teasing Ben and eating the glorious picnic he’d packed—and then Morag declared that she wanted to pop in to see a friend, and the young couple should have a romantic walk along the lochside.
They returned the rug and the remains of their picnic to the car, and then Ben slipped his arm around Kirsty’s shoulders. ‘Gran’ll expect it,’ he warned her softly, whispering in her ear to make it look as if he were making some lover-like private comment.
A little hesitantly, she slipped her arm around his waist, and they walked back down to the lochside. Though she noted that Ben didn’t move his arm from her shoulder, even when Morag was well out of sight, and she felt too awkward to make a point of moving her arm from his waist.
They walked in silence for what seemed like hours. Kirsty didn’t know what to say to break the tension without being inane. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed her that morning. Worse still, she found herself actually wondering what it would be like if he kissed her again. Right now.
Then she felt his fingertips brush her jaw. She stopped and turned to face him.
‘Kirst.’
Was he going to kiss her again? Her pulse quickened at the thought.
‘Do you think Gran might…well, if I stay out of the way for a bit…tell you what’s going on?’
‘I’ll do what I can,’ she promised.
‘Thanks.’ He drew her towards him then—but his kiss was that of a best friend, on her forehead. Not a lover’s kiss on her mouth. Not a kiss like he’d given her that morning.
Stop it, she warned herself. He might be Dr Charming but you’re not Cinderella. You’re not a tall, leggy blonde and you’re most definitely not his type. He doesn’t think of you in that way. This morning didn’t mean anything to him, so don’t make a big deal out of it.
She knew all that. She’d known it for years. So why did it hurt so much