"What the hell was all that macho bullshit?"I demand."Are you getting me into something dangerous without my consent?"
He picks me up and drops me onto the passenger seat."You will never know the answer to that question.Be grateful for that."
Chapter Ten
Kirk
I drive Gretchen back to her flat and leave her at the front door without speaking a word.She doesn't speak either.The lass clearly realizes I have other, more serious matters on my mind.So I kiss her cheek and offer a half-mumbled goodbye.Then I'm away.Though I glance back, hoping to catch one last glimpse of her, my hopes are dashed when she slips into her flat, shutting the door with barely a hint of a sound.
I do sleep that night, but only after long hours of tossing and turning, worrying about the veiled threat Dougal issued.The next morning, I wake up feeling as if I spent the entire night boozing in a smoke-filled club.But I did no such thing.After a quick breakfast, I head for the Loch Fairbairn Arms to find Gretchen.The hotel is hardly a dump, as my American friends would say.It's quite nice, though I've never roomed there.Everyone I know gives the hotel five stars.
As I race into the building, I discover that Gretchen's not at the front desk or in the breakfast area that I can just see out of the corner of my eye.I freeze, unsure of what to do now.
Fortunately, Mrs.Agnew notices me."You're looking for Miss Carver, aye?"
"That's right.Have ye seen her?"
"Oh aye."Mrs.Agnew smiles, making her cheeks dimpling."I know where you can find her."
"And that would be...where?"
She taps her chin and puckers her lips."Not sure if I should share the information though.The way you've treated that lass.It's almost criminal."
"Bod an Donais.Can ye just tell me where she is?"My growling tone probably didn't do me any favors.But I cannae help it.
Mrs.Agnew clucks her tongue and wags a finger at me."Do not use foul language in my hotel, dearie."
"Mhac na galla."
She shuts her eyes briefly, then aims a disapproving look at me."Kirk Balfour, I have never heard ye speak so crudely in front of a lady.Ah, well.I give up."She waves toward the eastern hallway."She's up on the rooftop terrace."
"On the roof?She might fall."
Mrs.Agnew smirks."You're worried about her falling?I reckon you think the lass is accident-prone then.Aye?"
"Ah, no.But---never mind, I'll find her."
Gretchen strikes me as braver than most lasses and indisputably no wilting flower.But my attraction to her comes from more than her beauty and fire.If I were a betting man, I'd put a hundred pounds on her standing within an arm's reach of the terrace edge, strictly to feel the world tilt around her.She wasn't this bold when we first met.But aye, she's become a spitfire.
I race up the stairs, emerging from the rooftop into the bright morning sun.Tables with terracotta tops are positioned round the whole area, and I note half of them are already taken by tourists and locals.I find Gretchen quickly, peering over the heads of blondes, brunettes, and also gray-haired gents and ladies.Families and couples alike are enjoying the breathtaking view and the excellent food.
Gretchen sits alone at a table in the nearest corner with a mug cradled in both hands.She roams her gaze over the panoramic sweep of the high mountains and lower rolling hills.Her hair is knotted up, and several strands have blown loose, gently teasing her face in the morning breeze.She wears a pair of big sunglasses perched on her nose that sport brightly colored rims with multiple patterns.It's obvious, at least to me, that she's hiding not from the sun but from but the world.
I approach her cautiously so I won't startle the lass, but she still senses me.Before I'm within three paces, she announces, "Morning, Kirk."
Her words are kind, almost affectionate.But her mouth remains hidden behind the mug.
I gesture to the chair beside her."May I sit?"
She shrugs."Whatever."
Not quite the greeting I'd hoped for, but I'll work with what she's given me.So, I settle my erse on the chair beside her."Mrs.Agnew told me you'd be here."
"Hmm, she is kinda nosy.I like her anyway, though."Gretchen tilts the sunglasses down, eyeing me over the top of the frames."I figured you'd be busy dealing with...whatever it is stunt men do when they're not in the process of dragging hapless Americans into the mountains at night."
A wry smile ghosts across her lips, then quickly evaporates.
"I'm not busy with stunts this morning," I assure her."Not unless you're planning to base jump off this roof."
