Jess glanced down, then grimaced. There was a series of small puddles at her feet, and her shoes squelched as she shifted her weight. ‘How is it possible for so much rain to leave the sky so quickly?’
‘You’re in the Highlands.’ It seemed no further explanation was required, and Robbie checked the kettle for water before setting it on one of the hotplates. ‘I think the wee man should stay here until he’s warmed up properly. We don’t want him going down with a chill, especially living in that tomb of a building.’
Jess knew he was referring to the castle, but he tilted his head in its direction to make his point. Then he stared at her again, his grin sliding away and his focus on her claiming all her attention.
‘But you shouldn’t stay in those soaking clothes for longer than necessary, either.’
Jess swallowed. What was he suggesting? Her mind flitted through a number of scenarios, taking no more than a couple of seconds to visit everything from the boring but practical, all the way through to the very naughty. Because while she probably looked a mess, with her soaking hair glued to her head and what little makeup she had applied probably running all down her face, Robbie looked good with a capital G. Handsome. Appealing. Very appealing, in fact.
Her stomach contracted as he moved, his gaze never leaving hers as he drew closer. When he stretched his fingers towards her face, his sudden proximity had Jess reaching up on her toes, tipping her face towards his. If he was about to kiss her, she wanted to be ready, because she was sure it was going to be good.
But then Robbie was sidestepping her, his handsome features marred by a look of confusion as he reached past her and pulled a couple of mugs from the mug tree behind her.
‘I was going to make tea,’ he said. ‘The shower is upstairs. It’s the door on the left if you want to use it – quickest way to warm up, I always think. I’ll find some spare clothes for you, and you can get them back to me whenever you like.’
Ah. Right. Massive misjudgement on her part. Not trying to kiss her, then. Jess wasn’t sure whether annoyance or embarrassment had gained the upper hand. She felt her cheeks flare with heat. ‘Thanks. Yes, a shower would be good.’ The thought of a pummelling under a stream of hot water did sound very welcome, as was the idea of peeling off her soaked jeans, even if she would be doing it herself, without the help of a rugged outdoorsy man.
Showered and dressed in an assortment of clothes which were too big for her, but were dry and gloriously warm, and with her own wet clothes in a bag ready to be carted back to the castle, Jess settled at Robbie’s kitchen table with a mug of tea in one hand and a shortbread biscuit in the other.
‘Is this one of Kitty’s?’ she asked, before taking another bite of the biscuit perfection.
‘Aye, that’s right. My aunt makes the finest shortbread this side of Fort William,’ Robbie said.
‘Kitty is your aunt?’ Jess made the mental calculations as Robbie nodded. ‘That means Mrs Keel is—’
‘My mother.’
‘Right.’ Jess began to grin.
‘What?’
‘That would explain why she’s the only one who seems to call you Robert, then?’
‘Aye. Always makes me feel guilty, even if I know I haven’t done anything wrong.’ He laughed. ‘You’d think by now I’d be able to cope with my own mother, but she’s a strong woman, no doubt. Doesn’t hold back if she thinks something needs saying. Doesn’t take no for an answer very easily, either.’
‘No. I get that. Before I knew what was happening, she had us roped into the village choir practice last night.’
‘Us?’
‘Sebastian on piano, me on vocals.’
‘Really?’
‘I can hold a tune,’ she said, crossing her arms in mock defensiveness.
‘I don’t doubt it. I’m just a bit surprised Sebastian’s braving the village already.’
‘Why? He does own the place.’ Jess wasn’t sure why she felt like she needed to defend Sebastian, especially after he’d all but ignored her on the walk home from the village.
‘Aye, he owns the buildings. But not the people.’ There was an edge to Robbie’s tone, a harshness she hadn’t heard before. She supposed her comment had been a bit crass. Then he shook his head. ‘And how did you like the Kirkshield Choir?’ he asked, a glint of amusement creeping into his expression.
‘Well, I was surprised not to see you there. How have you escaped your mother’s enlistment skills?’
‘You haven’t heard me sing,’ he answered. ‘I sound like bagpipes before the tune starts up. Groaning like a zombie, that’s me.’
Jess almost spat out her mouthful of tea as she began to laugh. ‘A zombie?’
‘Aye. Awful. Especially in my mother’s hearing.’ He winked at her.
