Again with the promise, or threat, or whatever it was, and that grin of his was totally wicked.
He did know this place though. That was why they had planned the trip, months ago, so he could show her the familiar landscape where he had grown up. But she'd been here and hiking around the area for two days already, which had to account for something.
He called out to her again, just as she made her way into the trees. "And I know you…better than you think."
What the hell does that mean? she silently raged, as she headed towards the rocky landscape beyond the cabins. It wasn't the sort of thing he ever said. Why, now? For some reason the comment made her breath catch in her throat, and as she upped her pace along the path her blood raced wildly through her veins.
Something changed. That's what he'd said. As Meg tried to figure it out, she glanced back over her shoulder, uneasy, but hellishly curious.
* * * *
Piers carried his overnight bag into the cabin and glanced around. It was an open plan design with a kitchen area and a living space. A futon-style sofa in front of an open fireplace bore signs of Meg's presence—two books, carefully bookmarked, and the cushions stacked at one end.
Beyond the living area a double bed was partially concealed by a screen. A door in the bedroom area led off to a small but efficient bathroom. He was impressed. He'd been concerned about this modern tourist build when it had been announced, but it was sympathetically done in a Scandinavian woodland style, the materials blending in with the environment.
Meg had put her touch on the place. He smiled. That was her way. Even in the most functional of hotel rooms she managed to recreate a sense of home. He saw it here in the perfumed candle set on the hearth. An unopened bottle of wine stood nearby. The bottle opener and one glass were next to it.
He walked into the bedroom area. One side of the double bed was dented.
"That's not the way it should be." He stared down at the pillow and felt that familiar longing for her, the same feeling that had haunted him for the past two months. He thought it was simple. He loved her and wanted to cherish her, but she was a prickly, independent sort. They'd argued, a lot. There was something about her that he'd never been able to understand, an aspect of her personality he never broke through.
When she said they should split, he hadn't been happy but he gave her space and time, hoping she would come back to him. As the date for the Highlands hiking holiday grew nearer, however, he craved to share that experience with her. So he'd gone to her place, the apartment that they had previously shared, in an attempt to discuss things. He was going to ask her to share this time, to use it as a neutral space, to see if they could patch things up. But she had already gone.
Fate was on his side, however, and that time alone in their familiar shared home had shown him the way. At first he hadn't understood why their relationship wasn't enough for Meg, but now he did—and now he was going to make it right.
He smiled as he reflected on it, and reached for the pillow. Inhaling her scent from it, he put it back down and thought through his plan once more. A moment later he turned to the kitchen and hunted through the cupboards until he found the wine glasses. Extracting one, he carried it through to the fireplace and set it next to her lone glass.
Then he grabbed what he needed from his bag and went after her.
Chapter Two
Meg made her way quickly along the rough hiking trail. It meandered between high crags and through thick clusters of trees. The path was purpose-built at first, to lead the tourists, then grew wilder, worn by foot and marked here and there by rocks. It was a popular trail, and she hadn't felt alone the first two days when she had come this way. She had been alone though. Only four other groups of hikers had passed her during the day, including two couples, but she'd forbidden herself to think about Piers and the fact that they were supposed to be doing this together.
Now that he was in the vicinity she became keenly aware of her single status as she hurried along the path, trying to put a gap between them. He was no doubt raiding her supply of food, carefully selected individual portions, before he tried to find her. Good luck to him, she thought. If he insisted on sleeping in the bed, just to make a point, she would sleep on the futon.
There was, however, a part of her that had felt guilty when she asked to take over the booking. They'd both needed this holiday, and they'd both looked forward to it. He could come here another time, though. The original plan had been that he was going to take her to meet his family, at the end of the week. But you can't put your life on hold for a holiday, she'd told herself at the time of the split, and they'd had too many arguments recently. He could go to Scotland any time, he had family there. She didn't.
Mourning what could have been, her annoyance grew. So many times she'd told him what she wanted, what she needed—defined life plans. Piers agreed, but then asked her what she wanted, as if deferring to her, asking her what her ideal plans for the future were. Some women would love that acquiescence to their desires, but it infuriated Meg. Deep down, she wanted Piers to lead.
The autumn trees were so beautiful that for the third day they took her breath away. Occasionally leaves drifted to the forest floor, carpeting the place in color. Sunlight sparkled through the barer branches, the evergreens darkening the landscape here an
d there. The area was just as Piers had described it, and now that he was here she wondered why on earth she hadn't cancelled the booking or moved it somewhere else. Of course she'd longed to see his world, that place that made him the steadfast, rugged Scotsman that she cared for, but perhaps it hadn't been the right thing to do at this point in her life, so soon after the split. She thought she was tough enough to deal with it, but maybe not.
A flock of squawking birds taking off from the trees somewhere behind her startled her and she paused. The sudden alarm call was disturbing, but when the noise faded off there was an eerie stillness that made her feel even more edgy. What had sent up the birds? Was there someone else out there, and was it Piers? He had a weird sense of humor at times and loved to tease people. Perhaps he'd let her have this holiday because he intended to turn up. Stupidly, she hadn't considered that.
If Piers had wanted to come along on this trip, then maybe he wanted to talk. He'd said so in an email, but she'd promised him they would meet on her return. This week was about clearing her head and making that final decision, the final make or break. If he was here, she couldn't do that.
The sound of a twig snapping behind her made her heart trip.
Quickly, she stepped off the path, circling a large oak, her hand running against the rough bark as she looked back along the path. There was nobody to be seen. Glancing through the trees ahead, she saw that she could stay off the path and work her way through the trees instead, keeping the path in her sights. Stealthily, she crept on, listening out for any further sounds. It had to be Piers. Her blood pumped fast, determined as she was to stay ahead of him.
The carpet of golden leaves beneath her feet silenced her footfalls, the trees that were half bare enabling her to see farther than she might have been able to earlier in the year. Brambles crowded between the trees beyond her, where the woods were wilder, and she had to follow alongside the path. She craned her neck as she looked back over her shoulder, straining to hear, but the blood rushing in her ears made it difficult. Her heart thudded wildly, and yet she felt sure she heard the sound of distant footfalls. Another sound reached her, was it a bird call or a man whistling?
Each time she looked back, she missed her footing and silently cursed herself. Heading deeper into the trees and away from the path she kept the crags on her left-hand side as a guide, knowing that she could find her way back with that in mind. The terrain got more difficult, more overgrown and the leaves under her feet were slippery with dew. Eventually she hauled up to capture breath.
Why am I doing this?
Because he's coming after me.