Page 20

Alasdair opens the boot of one of them and pulls up a garage door. “Pop these in the back, will you?”

He passes me a couple of paddles. Next come helmets and then life jackets. I put them all in the car then help him with the raft itself, which we lift onto the car’s roof. I hold it steady while he ties it in place.

We do all of this in more or less silence, so as a joke I say, “Lewis was right. You’re not a conversationalist, are you, Alasdair?”

He shrugs. “Well, what do you want to talk about? And you can call me Ally, you know. Everyone else does.”

“Okay, I’ll call you Ally. And how about you tell me where we’re going?”

“Not far. The River Garve is perfect for rafting. We’ll drive upstream a bit, then we’ll set off down the river. We’ll raft right through Bannock—go under the bridge you might have seen—and then continue downstream a wee bit. Then . . . well, that will be us. Sound good?”

“Perfect.”

He nods. “See, I can talk.”

“Yeah, that was an excellent exchange of information. Now you just have to work on the witty repartee.”

“Oh, I need a drink in me for that.”

“Noted.”

He digs a set of keys out of his pocket and tosses them my way. I catch them, puzzled.

“Follow me, okay?” He opens the driver’s door of the car with the raft on it.

I glance at the other car. “Wait, we’re taking two cars? Am I so repulsive you can’t bear sitting beside me?”

He pauses, half in the car, half out of it. Slowly, his eyes rake over me, for what must be the third time in fifteen minutes. “Hmm . . . I wouldn’t say repulsive, no.”

I gasp. “You cheeky—”

He grins—that rare smile again, which looks so good on him. “I’m just pulling your leg. Trying out a bit of witty repartee. Not great, I know, but trust me, with a drink in me, I get better. And as I don’t want you getting upset, I should state the obvious, which is that you are not repulsive but are, in fact, quite beautiful—but you know that. Anyway, about the cars, if you take a few moments to think about it, I’m sure you can figure out for yourself why we need them both.”

He waits, watching me, but I’m too thrown by the fact he just casually told me I’m beautiful to think straight.

Getting agitated, I say, “Just . . . tell me!”

He smirks. “Well, here’s what we’re going to do. First we’re both going to drive downstream. We’ll get to our endpoint, you’ll park there, then you’ll jump in with me, and we’ll drive upstream to our starting point. If we didn’t do that, and there was no car at the end, then . . . well, what would we do at the end of our rafting session?”

“Oh . . .” I say with realisation.

“Aye, you see? We’d end up in the middle of nowhere, most likely wet, with a raft and paddles and helmets, and we’d have no choice but to try and carry that all back to Bannock. Not fun. So we take two cars.”

“That makes sense now. Except there’s one problem: I can’t drive.”

“What?” He raises his brows and scratches his jaw. “Bloody hell. I bet your chauffeur takes you everywhere, right?”

I bristle at this. “For your information, a lot of people in London don’t own a car. It’s just not practical. If you want to go somewhere, it’s a lot easier to take the Underground or a bus, or to book an Uber or take a black cab. The traffic is crazy, and parking is a nightmare.”

Ally lets out a long, low sigh. “Fair enough. Give me a minute, then.” He heads back into the hotel, returning a few minutes later. “All right, Jamie’s going to pick us up from the endpoint in an hour and a half, which means you’re coming with me.” He takes my tote bag from me and throws it in the boot of the second car, alongside his own bag.

Great, the pies and snowball are almost certainly squashed now. He didn’t need to throw it, but I let it go.

“Hop in,” he instructs, getting into the car with the raft on top.

I do, and his large figure seems even more imposing inside. Suddenly, I feel very close to him. His shoulder is inches from mine, and his long legs fall open as he rests his feet on the pedals.

I gulp and avert my gaze from his splayed legs.