“I joined at sixteen.” He reached for one of the protein bars and ripped it open.
I tried not to stare at his mouth as he chewed. “Did they become like a family? Your unit?”
“For a while. Do you pity me?”
There was something sharp in his tone I didn’t like. “Never. If I pitied you for losing your parents, then I’d have to pity myself and I don’t. Plus, you’re one of the most capable people I’ve ever met. I could never pity you.”
Tension eased in his shoulders. “You’re pretty capable yourself for a rich girl.”
I heard his teasing, so I didn’t take offense. Instead, I chuckled and took the bottle of water he held out to me. “My parents made sure of it. Yes, I grew up privileged. We had luxury vacations and I’ve seen more of the world than most people ever will. I’ve never wanted for anything. I don’t know what it’s like to be hungry or to be afraid I don’t have the money to feed myself, to pay my bills. And I’m grateful for that. But, like I told you before, my parents wanted to make sure that’s as far as my privilege went.”
“What does that mean?”
Trying to think of the perfect example, I took a sip of water, searching my memory. I swallowed and wiped my lips with the back of my hand. “Okay, for instance, I’m fourteen years old and my classmate Carissa Yiu just had a slumber party that made Blair Waldorf’s look like child’s play.”
“Who’s Blair Waldorf?”
My lips twitched. “A fictional New York socialite known for her lavish slumber parties.”
“Ah.”
“You were probably somewhere on a covert operation when she made her splash into popular media,” I joked.
Ramsay nodded as if that were probably true.
Hmm.
I wondered just what he did while he was in the Royal Marines. “Anyway, I begged my parents for a slumber party that would knock Carissa Yiu’s slumber party out of the park. They adamantly refused. And when I threw a hissy fit, my mom made me volunteer with her at a homeless shelter. That shut me right up.” I smiled fondly at the memory.
Ramsay swallowed a bite of his protein bar and murmured, “I think I’d get on well with your mum.”
“Oh, she was a Scot through and through. She grew up with money, but my grandfather hadn’t, so she was raised to appreciate everything she had. And she wanted me to be the same. My mom and dad kept me in check. I don’t take any of the experiences they provided for granted.”
Ramsay considered this. “Perhaps some of us had preconceived notions about you.”
“Some of us being you?”
“I rarely judge a book by its cover. People are excellent at keeping secrets and are never really who you think they are. But … I have to admit, you’ve surprised me a time or two and that’s not easy to do.”
Despite the cold, my cheeks flushed beneath his intense regard.
God, I wanted him.
I didn’t think I’d ever wanted a man as much as I wanted this one.
Feeling breathless again, I racked my brain for a subject change. Pinned to the wall of the bedroom was a photograph of a Highland piper. “So, the pipes … where did you learn to play them?”
Ramsay went with the new topic and to my continued shock, replied, “In the marines. They have a pipe band and as punishment for a prank I pulled on a member of my unit when I was seventeen, my corporal stuck me in the pipe band, and I was forced to learn the pipes.”
“But you enjoyed playing?”
“I did. It had been years since I picked up the pipes, but when I settled in Leth Sholas, Quinn was looking for another piper. Some madness led me to saying yes.” He shrugged, a far-off look in his eyes. “But being part of the band reminds me of my time in the marines. Of being part of a team, of a community. I’d lost that over the years, reverting to the orphan who grew up needing nothing and no one.”
Grateful he’d shared so much, I responded softly, “I guess we all need someone. Even a man who bought an island just to be alone.”
“Not alone. I have a dog.” He flashed me a grin, and I felt a swoop of attraction in my stomach.
I chuckled, suddenly not afraid to let my feelings show in the heat of my stare. “You have more than a dog.”
