Scotland for Christmas. Cathryn Parry
got it,” Charles said. “Have a good weekend.” He left them.
“How is it that he’s a business student and yet is wearing a Che Guevara shirt?” Jacob asked her. “Doesn’t he know Che was a Communist?”
A terrorist, too, if you asked him, but he wouldn’t scare Isabel by using that word.
Isabel closed the door and smiled tightly at him. “Charles is a genius at economics. His father is an investment banker, and Charles will probably work with his firm, too, someday. Think of it as him trying to express his rebel side while he still can.”
Everybody was fooling somebody, it seemed. Without asking, Jacob picked up her suitcase. The good thing about Charles’s visit was that Isabel had dropped all talk about not needing him to drive her across the city to pick up her boyfriend.
As he held the door for her, Isabel smiled tremulously. He gave her a halfhearted smile of his own. Already he’d ratcheted down his intensity.
His intensity. He didn’t know why he’d thought of that.
Just...damn. What was happening to him?
* * *
OH, WHAT A tangled web we weave....
Isabel’s head was reeling. Never in a million years had she expected Alex to show up for the wedding. This changed everything. Now, she looked forward to the weekend—she’d added a dress because maybe they could go out to a romantic dinner alone.
His presence also solved her immediate problem of needing to make a good impression on her uncle. Malcolm had the advantage this weekend because it was his wedding, but Isabel couldn’t sit back, either.
Unfortunately, Jacob needed to leave.
She glanced at him. His brows were knit as he searched the storefronts for the Starbucks where Alex waited. Poor Alex. He’d asked the taxi driver at Kennedy airport to take him to her university, but the driver had dropped him at the wrong one. There were so many in Manhattan.
Jacob pulled the black SUV alongside the storefront with its familiar green logo. He didn’t seem too concerned, however. She unbuckled her seat belt as he turned to her.
“I’ll wait here for you.” He gave her an earnest look she hadn’t seen in his expression before.
“No, please, we’re fine. Thank you for the ride.”
“I’m not leaving you, Isabel.”
He had that steadfast look to his gaze, the one she was starting to recognize. It was refreshing, actually. Nice to think there was someone in this big, foreign city that she could count on.
However, she had Alex to pick up the slack from here. And Alex was waiting inside the coffee shop.
She opened the door and stepped onto the city street. Huddling beneath her jacket collar, she wrapped her scarf around her neck and went to the boot of his car. With her knuckles, she rapped on it.
Jacob rolled down his window.
“My suitcase, please,” she said.
There was only the slightest hesitation, but Jacob got out of the SUV and walked round to the back, too. With a click of his key ring the back hatch popped open. He retrieved her small case, extended the handle and placed it on the pavement.
She reached for it but his low voice stopped her. “I’ll wait here for you until I know that you’re safe.”
She made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. So intense, they seemed to burn, but not in a frightening way—in a way that she’d always yearned for.
Her breath sucked in, and for that split second, her fingers shook on the handle. But it wasn’t real, it was silly, and she broke eye contact.
Inside the coffee shop was Alex. Her true boyfriend.
Her heart gave a small leap. Alex had been with her from the beginning. He’d known her before the craziness with her family had happened. He’d been her wee mate, the boy next door. He’d been her first kiss. Her first love. Her only lover. This separation—her time in New York and Alex’s time in Scotland—was only short-term. They’d made an agreement—a logical pact—no matter how temporarily lonely and painful it had been for her. But he’d been showing her respect by yielding to her desires and letting her know that she was important, too. It wasn’t only his goals that mattered—hers did, too.
And so they’d had their months physically apart. Four consecutive terms—semesters, the Americans called them—for her, and for Alex, his intense training assignment. Their separation was almost over.... Next month was Christmas and then she would be home.
He’d surprised her with his phone call. Though, if anyone knew how important, how fraught with emotion Malcolm’s wedding was to her, it was Alex.
She stopped in the doorway of the coffee shop, searching him out. When she saw his familiar face across the room, she felt tears spring to her eyes. She hurried to him, the suitcase trolley wheels bouncing across the tiled floor.
Alex seemed gaunt. Thinner than usual. Three months since she’d physically seen him, and he looked...
When he saw her his mouth twisted in a frown.
She paused, confused. “Alex, I...”
He stood awkwardly, scraping the floor with his chair. It sounded like claws on a blackboard.
And then he looked at her suitcase, and then at her. He was genuinely bewildered. “Why do you have a case with you?”
Her heart sank, which should have told her something, but she didn’t want to listen to it. “It’s Malcolm’s wedding. You’re coming with me to Malcolm’s wedding this weekend. That’s why you surprised me...?”
His face had fallen.
Her voice wavered. “Isn’t it?”
After a long moment of him standing, staring at his shoes, and her trying to breathe through the lump of emotion that had lodged in her chest, he finally said, “Sit down, Bell. We need to talk.”
* * *
JACOB MANAGED THE miracle of finding a place to park the black SUV on the street. He slammed the door and headed for the coffee shop Isabel had entered.
Somehow, he had to convince these two to let him drive them both to Vermont. If Jacob didn’t have a legitimate reason to get to Vermont, then he wouldn’t have an opportunity to meet John Sage. That was unacceptable.
Inside, the familiar aroma of coffee hit him. Expensive coffee, five-bucks-a-cup coffee, the kind he couldn’t really afford but still found himself wanting anyway.
About a dozen patrons sat alone at tables, staring into screens. Two attendants were behind the counter—one at the register and one loudly frothing milk at an espresso machine. Jacob noted that the bathrooms were in the rear of the shop. There was just one exit that he could see. And Isabel was...
His heart softened. She stood with her side to him, one of the ends of her long wool scarf brushing the floor. She seemed to be...drooping.
He knew her enough by now to know that something was wrong.
Oh, hell. He didn’t want to feel sorry for her. She was just a means to an end.
Moving silently, he slid into a seat at the table near her, close enough to see and hear her conversation. He took out his smartphone, put on a headset and pretended to be inside the cocoon of his own digital world, like most people. But he wasn’t. He was listening to Isabel and her boyfriend.
Jacob had already pegged the guy. Slouching. Nervous. Didn’t meet her eye. Maybe Jacob would check into him later. For now, Jacob was just watching them. Doing what he was trained to do.
He sat with his back to the wall, keeping track of the situation. Who came into the shop, who went out. Checking for anyone obviously carrying weapons. Yes, it was New York,