She’d never dreamed a supposed hiking trail would be barely wide enough for her feet. She eyed the ever rising track and considered turning around. Great was the temptation to return to the cozy, oh-so-level public rooms of the lovely Ben Loyal Hotel.She could call Aunt Birdie and go back to Dunroamin. Sort through the packing crates of Uncle Mac’s broken china, organize her tools, and wait for him to make another appearance. On the thought he loomed before her mind’s eye, his big, strong hands hooked around his kilt belt and looking ready and eager to sate any woman’s hottest dreams.Cilla’s breath caught and her heart began a slow, hard thumping.A shiver slid through her and, God help her, but her breasts went tight and her nipples puckered, almost aching to feel his touch again. Worse, his rich, whisky-smooth voice played across her memory, the deep, lilting tones strumming vulnerable places and, she was sure, dampening her panties!She pressed a hand to her mouth and willed away the sweet warmth beginning to pulse deep in her belly.Then she choked back a bitter laugh.How typical that she’d hoped to spend the afternoon not thinking about her sexy Highland ghost, yet she couldn’t get him out of her mind.She should be angry at him, not fantasizing about how good he’d be in bed.She bit down on her lip, her breath slowly returning to normal.And with it came reason.If her suspicions were true, he’d used a silly devil disguise to try and scare her and then did the same thing to the poor innocent cook.
