I gave him a twisted smile. “The scientists never do what you expect them to—and they have a habit of anticipating my moves.”
“Then we book a cottage across the other side of the loch, somewhere that won’t strain the capabilities of young dragons who haven’t flown much.”
“That’ll work.” I studied him for a moment, then added, “Once the kids are safe, I can get Mom out through the well.”
He nodded. “It’s a good plan. Trust me.”
“I do trust you. I just don’t trust the scientists.”
He squatted down beside me, and touched a hand to my cheek. His soft caress sent a shiver of delight through every part of me. “Don’t forget that, no matter what, you can protect yourself. The loch is nearby—use the power of it if you need to.”
“I will.” But if one of the scientists had a gun, then the loch wouldn’t be of much use. I sighed and pushed the thought away. What was the point of dwelling on such things? There was enough fear churning my stomach already. “We should go back and eat breakfast.”
“The second best suggestion I’ve heard for while,” he said with a smile. He rose to his feet and offered me a hand up.
I let him tug me to my feet, then, hand in hand, we left the shoreline and walked up the hill, waiting until several trucks rolled past before crossing the road and making our way back to the pretty little cottage.
Breakfast was waiting in a hamper near the door. Trae scooped it up, then lifted the tea towel covering the top and sniffed deep. “Ah, lovely.” He tugged the towel completely off. “There’s fresh breads, homemade jams, and something that looks suspiciously like lumpy paste, but it’s hot.”
I laughed as I opened the door. “That’s probably going to be porridge. A favorite around these parts, according to my dad, who hated the stuff.”
“It’s not something my clique ever thought about eating, I can tell you.”
“It’s apparently good for keeping the belly warm.” I opened the door and ushered him inside. “You want a coffee?”
“Yep. It may be the only thing that washes down the paste.”
“You eat it with milk and sugar, dope.”
I made the coffee, then brought the two mugs over to the small table. We ate breakfast in comfortable silence, the scent of the breads and jams mingling with the warm spiciness of man, filling my lungs and stirring hunger—for the food, and for him.
But as much as I wanted to give in to the need to caress him, to let my fingers reacquaint themselves with all that tanned muscle, now was not the time.
We couldn’t afford to relax now, no matter how good or how pleasurable it would be. The men he’d flown off to the wilds of Canada might very well have gotten to a phone by now, in which case Marsten and his men would know I’d either be here or be on my way here. Maybe that was even why they were packing up. Either way, we had to keep alert. Last night had been a gift—but we dare not steal time like that again.
I sighed softly then rose to grab another cup of coffee. “So what do we do to fill in the day?” I said, walking across to the nearest window and looking out. A green car was slowly making its way toward our cabin. I wondered if it was Mrs. Molloy, back to collect her basket. “And don’t suggest a horizontal tango. We haven’t the time.”
“We have all day,” he said dryly.
I gave him a grin. “Yeah, but there’s only one head alert when we’re in bed, and it isn’t the one with the brain aboard.”
He laughed, a warm rich sound that had my toes curling. “You could be right there.”
Outside, the green car had slowed even further, allowing me time to study the driver. It was a male, not a female—not Mrs. Molloy, as I’d originally thought. He was big, his shadowy features rough-looking.
The sight of him had trepidation racing across my skin. I might not have seen this particular man before, but I knew what he was all the same. A scientist.
I stepped to one side of the window, hiding behind the blue and white checked curtains.
“What’s wrong?” Trae said quickly.
I held up a hand to silence him, and listened to the sound of the approaching car. It cruised past slowly, not stopping, but remaining at a speed that allowed the driver time to look and study.
They suspected.
But how? Why? I wasn’t within tracking distance, and I hadn’t done anything to attract attention, hadn’t gone anywhere to be noticed. And yet that man was looking at this cottage, not at any of the other houses or cottages nearby. Just this one, and this one alone.
Could Mrs. Molloy have told them that two Americans were staying here? She might claim to hate the scientists, but the almighty dollar was a great incentive to overlooking such feelings. I wouldn’t put it past the scientists to be paying the nosier folks in the village to keep an eye out for strangers with an American accent. Which I wouldn’t have thought would be exactly scarce in a town that thrived on tourism.
The car finally moved on. I peeked out the window, watching until it had disappeared over the hill, then spun around.
“We need to get out of here.” My gaze met the blue of his. “That was a scientist cruising past.”
“Damn.” He gulped down the rest of his coffee, then rose. “Was he pointing anything our way?”
“No.” Which didn’t mean the receiver couldn’t be on the seat next to him. “But why would they even suspect I’m here? The tracker only has a range of five hundred feet, so they can’t have caught the signal from the research center. Besides, if they had, why would they merely be doing a drive-by?”
“Maybe the signal was weak or intermittent. Maybe they want to be sure before they cause a fuss.” He shrugged. “Either way, it looks like we’ll need to go do a bit of sightseeing.”
I blinked. Why did this man always do that to me? “What?”
“Hiding in the open is always a good policy. People just don’t expect it. So, we’ll wander up to Urquhart Castle and spend the day there mingling with the tourists and remaining well out of any tracker range.”
“Then let’s get out of here.”
I walked into the bedroom and grabbed our bags. Mine mightn’t hold much more than clothes, but I wasn’t about to leave anything behind that they could examine. It might only confirm any suspicions they had that I was here.
Because if they were anything more than just suspicious, they’d surely be doing a whole lot more than cruising past.
He took the bags from me and slung them over his own shoulder.
“The cottage hasn’t got a back door,” I said, “so we’ll have to use one of the rear windows.”
Amusement played around his mouth. “Considering the size of my . . . ego, do you think I’ll get through them easily enough?”
“Just,” I said dryly. I walked back into the kitchen and pushed up the window. “How about this time you go first?”
“You just want equal ass-viewing time.”
“And is there anything wrong with that?”
“Hell, no.” His words were solemn, but the twinkle in his eyes was very evident. “I am a very sexy guy with a very sexy ass, after all.”
“And I think Carly Simon sang a song about a man just like you.”
He grinned. “Impossible. I am unique.”
I was tempted to say “Thank god,” but given his mood, he’d probably take it as a compliment.
He tossed the bags through the window, then climbed out. After a quick look around, he turned and offered me his hand. I hesitated, then placed my fingers in his. The warmth of his flesh encased mine and sent a crazy tingle rushing across my skin.
My feet had barely hit the ground before he was drawing me toward him for a quick, tantalizing kiss.
“You keep doing that and we’re going to get ourselves into trouble,” I muttered, trying to ignore the excited pounding of my pulse and the aching need to melt back into his arms and just keep on kissing him.
“But it’s a good kind of trouble,” he said with a grin.