I returned his smile. “True.”
* * *
“You had an affair with Bridget Mendez?” I gaped at Lachlan as he drove with relaxed confidence down single-track roads. As much as I was in awe of the scenic drive, our conversation about past relationships was distracting to say the least.
He grinned like a schoolboy. “I did.”
I stared out the windshield, processing. Bridget Mendez was in her sixties now. At the height of her film career, she was an ’80s pinup star. Not much of an actress, but iconic and considered one of the most beautiful women in the world.
“What age were you?”
“Twenty-three.” He shrugged. “She likes them young.”
“You’re lying,” I said, not believing he was lying for a minute.
Lachlan threw me a wounded look. “I would never.”
It occurred to me that he had shared secrets the tabloids would have a field day over. He trusted me. The thought made me smile. “You couldn’t tell anyone, could you?”
“Mac knew. I’ve told Thane.” He grinned. “And now you.”
“Well, I can’t beat that.” I waved at him. “Bridget Goddamn Mendez.”
“What do you mean you can’t beat that? You’re sleeping with me.”
I laughed uproariously at his cockiness. “You’re gorgeous, but you’re not a living legend.”
“Hey, to some people, I am.”
We chuckled together, and I shook my head. “You’ve had the weirdest life.”
I felt him contemplate me a second before turning his attention back to the road.
“What?”
He gave me another considering look. “It doesn’t bother you?”
“What doesn’t bother me?”
“Me. Talking about the women I’ve slept with?”
I’d never been the jealous type. “You’re not sleeping with them now, are you?”
“Of course not. I can barely keep up with you.”
“See, that’s what happens when you have sex with a woman ten years younger than you,” I teased.
“I’ve had sex with younger women,” he muttered, eyes flicking down my body before moving back to the road. “Age has nothing to do with it.”
“Oh, and what has?”
“You.” He slowed, hitting his turn signal to pull into a tiny parking spot off the road at a gate. Lachlan unclipped his seat belt, eyes hot. “You’re wild.”
I liked that description. “I do have stamina.”
“That you do,” he murmured thickly, attention on my mouth. Then he wrenched his gaze away and cleared his throat. “Wait here.”
Wondering at his abruptness, I shook my head and watched as he got out of the SUV and opened the gate. When he returned, we drove down the single track where a couple of white cottages were situated beneath the shadow of a hill, or beinn, as they were called here. That’s when I became aware of our surroundings. “Oh wow.”
The cottages sat on the banks of a beautiful river. We were clustered in the valley of gently sloping, patchwork hills. The sun glinted off the placid river that cut through the valley like a stream of mirror, reflecting the greens of the trees and the gunmetal-tinged clouds in the blue sky above.
Following Lachlan out of the Range Rover, I noted he grabbed my camera gear and the picnic basket. “Where are we?”
“On the River Oykel.”
“Are we trespassing?” I gestured to the cottages as Lachlan led me down a small slope near the river’s edge where a fence of wood and chicken wire halted us.
“They’ll move us if we are,” he said, unconcerned. He carefully dropped the basket and my gear over the fence before climbing it with ease. Those long legs of his.
When he held out a hand to me, I eyed the obstacle he’d scaled with little difficulty. “I might not make it, and contrary to popular belief, it hurts there for us too.”
He gave a short bark of laughter and then climbed back over the fence. Before I knew it, he swept me into his arms, and I squeaked with surprise.
Suddenly I was on the other side of the fence.
Lachlan jumped over it with impressive athleticism, and the only thing that distracted me from ogling him was the narrow stream of the river against the vivid greens of its banks. The muds, ambers, and chestnuts of the hills gave the Highlands texture, depth, and atmosphere. While a vibrant field of differing shades of green with a gentle stream running through it was pretty, the earthy ruggedness juxtaposed against it was what made the Highlands special.
I am gentle breeze, I am fertile. I am peace, I am tranquility. But I am mighty, I am storm. I am thunderous, I am valiant.
That was the Highlands.
A perfect dichotomy.
A swell of emotion weighed down my chest. “It’s so beautiful. Words can’t describe what I feel when I’m here. Do you ever get used to it? To its pure, unadulterated majesty?”
“Not if you’re smart,” Lachlan answered softly. “True beauty should never be taken for granted.”
Feeling the heat of his eyes on my face, I turned to look at him and felt the breath leave my body at the intensity of his stare.