Page 61 of Highland Getaway
It doesn’t take long for me to realise I’m hopelessly lost. The avenues of trees twist and turn, leading to dead ends and forks in the path, forcing me to choose routes at random, with absolutely no idea where I’m going. I can’t hear the thud of Hunter’s axe any more, but I can’t hear Sabrina either; which would be reassuring, if it wasn’t for the fact that I have a horrible feeling that Sabrina Bates isn’t theonlyperson lurking in this maze, chasing me down the long avenues of trees. The wind in the leaves makes them whisper as if they’re alive – as if they’re telling each other secrets – and, as I run between them, my breath coming in sharp gasps which hurt my chest, I feel as if I’m never going to get out of here. I’ll just keep running around this maze forever, lost and alone, and .?.?.
WHUMP.
I come to a sudden stop as my body slams into something tall and solid; something which smells like woodsmoke and pine cones.
Something that makes me sob with relief when I recognise it as Hunter.
‘Rosie?’ he says, his voice registering surprise as his strong arms come around me. ‘Rosie, what are you doing here? What’s wrong?’
* * *
Hunter leads me to a wooden bench in the middle of the maze, which it turns out I’d almost reached, and listens patiently as the whole sorry story comes spilling out: how I recognised Dante – or one of his ancestors, at least – in the book he was reading in the library; how sure I was that he must be Lord Glenmuir’s nephew, and therefore the person who’s been trying to scare me since I got here .?.?. right up until I heard Sabrina Bates talking on the phone just now in the maze.
‘And now I’m thinking it’s just as likely to be Sabrina,’ I say, the words sounding wild even to me. ‘Her business is failing, Hunter. She really needs this campaign to be a success. AndI’mthe main reason it isn’t.’
Tears trickle down my face, and Hunter reaches out and wraps his arms around me again, pulling me into the comfort of his chest.
‘Shhh, Rosie,’ he says, his lips brushing my hair. ‘You have to try to calm down. No one’s out to get you. And even if they were, I’m here; I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.’
I can’t seem to calm down, though. Instead, I keep on crying, all of the built-up tension of the last few days overflowing at last, until Hunter reaches around my body, and pulls me onto his knee, where I sit, burrowed against his chest, until my breathing starts to return to normal.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say at last, embarrassed by the state I’ve let myself get into. ‘I’m sorry, Hunter, this must all sound absolutely crazy. You must thinkI’mcrazy.’
He pulls back slightly, so he can look into my eyes.
‘I don’t think you’re crazy, Rosie,’ he says quietly. ‘And I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have taken you more seriously. I should have tried harder to figure out what was going on so I could reassure you.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ I tell him, very aware of how close our faces are, and how awful I must look after all of those tears. ‘But what do you think? About Dante, and Sabrina, and .?.?. everything?’
There’s a short silence as he strokes my hair, and I lean into him, comforted by his closeness and strength.
‘I don’t know what to think, Rosie,’ he says, his voice oddly husky. ‘I’m as confused as you are. About a lot of things, really.’
‘It’s all very confusing,’ I agree, with another sniff.
He reaches up and brushes the hair carefully about my eyes.
‘One thing I’m not confused about,’ he tells me, ‘is that none of this is your fault, Rosie. It really isn’t. You have to stop blaming yourself. All you did was post one video by mistake. That’s hardly going to bring down the hotel, is it?’
‘I suppose not,’ I reply, not sure if I can believe this.
‘Seriously,’ Hunter says, his fingers grazing my lips in a way that makes my entire body tingle. ‘Things are rarely as bad as they feel when you’re right in the middle of them. And I definitely don’t think any of this is your fault.’
‘But .?.?.’
‘I’m going to do everything I can to figure out what’s been going on,’ he says firmly. ‘I promise. But, for now, I think you should go and get ready for the funfair. I seem to recall we had a date?’
‘Um, did we?’ I smile in spite of myself. ‘Was it a date?’
‘Well, I was hoping it might be,’ he replies.
He pulls me closer, his lips close to mine, and I lean into him, half of me still anxious about everything that’s just happened, while the other half just wants him to kiss me again, like he did last night.
Which is exactly what he does.
Hunter’s lips meet mine, and he doesn’t just kiss me like he did last night; he kisses me as if none of this matters – not Dante, or Sabrina, or dirks in turnips or any of the rest of it. He kisses me like it’s just me and him in the whole world; like we don’t live hundreds of miles away from each other, and as if I’m not going home in two days’ time, never to see him again.
The last thought lurks unpleasantly at the back of my mind; a shadow hanging over this otherwise perfect kiss, which starts off with him cupping my face tenderly in his hands, but quickly escalates until his hands are in my hair, and I’m not thinking about anything anymore but him.
