Terms Of Engagement. Kathryn Ross
hand tightened on the steering wheel. A feeling of ominous foreboding lay heavy in her heart.
She slowed her car as another vehicle came into sight. She recognised it as Frazer McClarran’s Land Rover. He looked as if he was having problems because it was positioned off the road with the bonnet up. A smile curved Emma’s lips. This might be fun.
She brought her car to a halt behind his and got out. ‘Morning, Mr McClarran,’ she said brightly.
Frazer stuck his head up from underneath the bonnet. ‘Good morning.’ His eyes moved over her slender figure. She was wearing faded jeans and a silky knit beige jumper which clung to her womanly curves. ‘Almost didn’t recognise you without your ballgown and boots.’
She hid her irritation behind a smile, and went to peer over his shoulder into the grimy depths of his engine. ‘Having problems?’ Her voice was light.
‘No, I like standing here with my head under the bonnet of my car. It protects me from the fierce Scottish sun.’ He flicked her an amused glance.
She smiled at him innocently, batting wide blue eyes, and then, pushing a well-manicured hand through the luxurious length of her hair, enquired, ‘Can I be of some assistance?’
‘I doubt it.’ He grinned. ‘Unless you carry a spanner in your handbag.’
‘Sorry.’ She smiled, as if unaware that he was being sarcastic. She watched for a moment as he tinkered about unsuccessfully.
He was wearing blue jeans teamed with a blue crew-neck jumper. His body was well toned, not an ounce of spare flesh on him, a hard, flat stomach, powerful shoulders. She wondered if he worked out.
‘Don’t let me detain you.’ He glanced around at her again.
‘That’s OK. I’m not in a hurry.’
She watched for a little while longer, then suggested softly, ‘Maybe you’ve got some dirt in the carburettor?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Have you checked it?’
He glared at her.
She ignored the look and smiled provocatively. ‘Or perhaps it’s just a loose connection?’
‘Look, I suggest you get off to do your shopping,’ he muttered. ‘And leave me to fix my car in peace.’
‘If you want.’ Then with another smile she reached into the engine. ‘I’ll just have a look before I go.’
Frazer stood back, staring at the back of her red-gold head with barely concealed impatience. He could smell her perfume, a flowery, feminine scent, not unappealing. Then his eyes moved to the shapely line of her bottom in those jeans. ‘Look, Mrs Sinclair, do you mind getting out of my way?’ he grated.
‘Fine.’ She straightened and bent to wipe her hands on the damp grass verge. ‘I’ll think you’ll find that it’s all right now,’ she said with quiet confidence.
‘What do you mean?’ He stared at her as if she had suddenly grown another head.
‘I mean if you try the engine it should start.’ She smiled. ‘That is unless you really like standing with your head under the bonnet, sheltering from the fierce Scottish sun?’ She couldn’t resist the jibe, before sauntering back to her own car.
Frazer McClarran got back into his vehicle and tried the engine. It fired into life with the first turn of the ignition key. The look of astonishment on his face as she drove past him made Emma chuckle to herself all the way down the steep mountain roads.
The small village of Glenmarrin lay on the coast, a few miles away from Emma’s land. It was a picturesque fishing port which nestled in the curve of the bay, surrounded by the majesty of the mountainous countryside. It had one main street, with a few shops and houses around the harbour, and was the sort of place where everyone seemed to know everyone else.
Emma parked her car by the harbour and walked across the road to pick up some groceries at the small supermarket. The first day that Emma had ventured down here for supplies she had found herself the centre of attention. Everyone had seemed very friendly.
Mrs Murray, the proprietor of the shop, greeted Emma warmly now as she walked through the door. She was a cheery woman, large and attractive, with a laugh that was infectious.
‘How are you settling in, dear?’ she asked politely as she rang up Emma’s purchases on the till.
‘Very well, thank you.’
‘If you have any problems, you can always ask your neighbour, you know—Frazer McClarran. Lovely man.’
‘Yes, we have met. He seems nice enough,’ Emma replied nonchalantly.
‘Nice?’ The woman looked at her with a raised eyebrow. ‘There are men and then there are men. Frazer McClarran is in a league of his own—a tower of strength to the community. A member of the mountain rescue team, a hard worker, a loyal friend.’
Emma felt as if she was being reprimanded. ‘I’m sure he is.’
‘He’s also a confirmed bachelor. Every eligible woman in the town has made a play for Frazer, but he’s not one to be tied down.’
‘Maybe he just hasn’t met the right woman.’
Emma smiled to herself as she walked back to her car to put her provisions in the boot. Frazer might be a member of the mountain rescue team, but she had done the rescuing today.
The sun had taken possession of a suddenly bold blue sky. All that remained for Emma to do was go into the Traveller’s Rest Hotel and book her ex-husband a room.
The knowledge dulled her amusement and brought back her earlier uncertainties. Her instincts told her this wasn’t a good idea. Indeed, it could be a vast mistake.
Emma’s eyes moved to the old black and white building further up the road, the only hotel in the area. Her steps were slow as she headed back towards it. A seagull on the roof watched her approach, then seemed to let out a wild, cackling laugh. Maybe he agreed with her, Emma thought wryly. She had probably taken leave of her senses. But then desperate situations called for desperate measures.
As she crossed the road, a sudden flurry of rain started. It was so totally unexpected that it made her gasp. Her head down against the cold downpour, she ran the last few yards to the steps of the hotel. Her long hair obscuring her vision, she didn’t see the man who was also running towards the steps from the opposite direction. They collided with a jolt.
‘I’m sorry.’ He reached out a hand to steady her.
She looked up, and found herself looking into Frazer McClarran’s dark eyes.
‘It’s you again,’ she murmured breathlessly.
The rain was cool against her skin. It trickled over the thickness of her eyelashes, blurring his handsome features for a moment.
‘Better get in out of this,’ he said. His hand still resting at her waist, he ushered her politely up and through the doors.
‘Whew! I wasn’t prepared for that,’ she said, brushing the rain off her face and running a smoothing hand over her hair. ‘I thought it was going to be sunny this afternoon.’
‘Always expect the unexpected in Glenmarrin,’ he said with a wry grin. ‘Maybe I should have remembered that myself, when I ran into you this morning.’
She grinned back at him. ‘How is the car?’
‘Fine, thanks.’ His eyes flicked briefly over her appearance. She was wet, and the pale ribbed jumper clung tightly over a very shapely outline. ‘Where did you learn to fix a car like that?’
‘I have two brothers who are both car-mad.’ She was trying not to notice the way he had just looked at her. Was it her imagination or had there been a glimmer of male interest