‘Oh.’
Her forehead scrunched in surprise—almost as if it hadn’t occurred to her that anyone could be concerned for her on a personal level.
‘That’s...that’s very kind of you.’ The words were stilted, and as if she realised it she paused to regroup. ‘But truly there’s no need. I will be fine. I want to do this, Daniel. Please.’
The low entreaty tugged at his chest and he thought quickly. ‘OK. But we’ll go in a tandem kayak. You and I.’
You and I.
For some reason the words held a strange sonorous significance. Ridiculous—this was no more than a practical solution.
‘And if there is any sign of panic you’ll tell me. Promise?’
‘I promise.’ Her green eyes met his with a hint of shyness. ‘Thank you.’
‘No problem.’
The silence stretched and twanged as awareness hovered in the air. Daniel forced his feet to remain rooted to the cream-carpeted floor, curbed the impulse that had him wanting to close the gap between them, pull her into his arms and kiss her.
Bad idea, Dan.
Though right here and now he was having a hard time remembering why.
Kaitlin seemed equally lost for conversation, but then she gave a small shake of her head and clenched her fingers into her palms. ‘So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?’
‘To hike over the walk we’re taking the kids on. It’s a beautiful trek, and I want the chance to scope it out first.’ Before his brain could cut in, his mouth ran away with him. ‘Would you like to come?’
Yet another bad idea. Instinct told him that the less time he spent alone with Kaitlin the better. But after her ordeal he didn’t want to leave her alone, so common politeness had dictated the invitation—nothing more. Common sense would ensure non-involvement.
There was a second of hesitation and then Kaitlin nodded. ‘I’d like that.’ A small frown creased her forehead. ‘I prefer to be prepared, so I appreciate this. Plus I’ll get to break in my new hiking boots and check that I can actually manage the hike.’
Deep breath.
‘I’ll go and get ready.’
* * *
Kaitlin gazed at her reflection in the mirror, then leant her forehead against the cool glass in the hope it would bring her back to her senses. She should never have agreed to the walk—her second favourite strategy after denial was avoidance. Ergo, she should duck, sidestep, positively dodge any time with Daniel.
But it would help to check out the hike, and she was Lady Kaitlin Derwent, and she was in control.
Twenty minutes later, having pulled on hiking socks and what she hoped would prove to be state-of-the-art walking boots, she went in search of Daniel and found him in the kitchen, loading up a rucksack.
‘I’ve packed us a picnic,’ he explained. ‘We’ll drive to Fort William, park in town and walk from there.’
As Kaitlin climbed into the gleaming black four-wheel drive she glanced across at Daniel. His concentration on the road allowed her to watch the deft confidence with which he drove, the economical movements, the shape of his hands, the... Enough. She should be feasting her eyes on the landscape outside, not Daniel’s fingers, for heaven’s sake.
And so for the rest of the short car journey Kaitlin watched the many shades of green and brown morph together into rolling meadows and plains, backed by mountainous peaks and tors, until they arrived at the bustling town of Fort William, one of the largest in the Highlands.
Kaitlin inhaled deeply, reminded herself that it was no different from London—less familiar, but in many essentials the same—and the sight of familiar High Street brands grounded her as they drove through the town and parked.
They alighted from the car and left the car park behind them, and soon they were following the zig-zag path uphill, leaving the noise of traffic and the hustle behind until it was nigh on impossible to believe the proximity of a town that housed thousands of people.
The air was fresh and the crisp breeze carried the scent of the Highlands...gorse, heather with an evocative nuance of peat and whisky... After they’d scaled a small summit they paused, and Kaitlin stared out over the view and felt a sense of peace descend on her. The travails of the day, the terror the water had invoked, were p
aradoxically soothed by the enormity of nature.
‘I can see why you want to bring the kids here,’ she said. ‘All of this is timeless—makes you feel that no matter what is happening in the cities, in our lives...all the progress, all the fears...when you set it against this it gives you a certain peace.’