Page 58 of Scotch on the Rocks

Looking everywhere but her face, I said, “You’re good at this.” She possessed a uniquely tender hand, so at odds with the image she put out to the world. Anyone who thought her an ice queen hadn’t truly observed her. An ocean of differences lay between cold and slow to burn. And when Juniper finally burned … what a magnificent sight it would be.

“I’ve had a lot of practice, I was a very self-sufficient child.”

“Fiona didn’t patch up your grazed knees?”

“She would have if I’d asked, but I didn’t need her to.” Her attention slid away, as though the confession left her vulnerable. “I took care of myself for years before they adopted me.”

I tried to picture her as a child. Scrawny. Scared and alone, but always strong. Holding everyone at arm’s length. “And now you take care of your mum?”

Her grip on my chin faltered. “You’re giving me a lot of unearned credit.”

“Am I? You’re here, helping me.” I could have easily managed this alone and she knew it. “I might even make the mistake of thinking you like me.” My statement hung as she removed the gauze and replaced it with a fresh bundle, her fingers slipping right back into place across my cheek. I knew I should keep quiet – luxuriate in the wonder ofJuniper Ross taking care of me for a few minutes longer – yet I couldn’t stop my mouth from running. “We should talk about that night in Glasgow.”

She stiffened.Great start. “Why now?”

Because I’m dying to know if you replay it as often as I do?“It’s been long enough, don’t you think?”

“I could go another five years.”

“Harpy.”

“Callum.”

Fuck.My hands fisted on my thighs.“If you think flirting is going to distract me, it won’t.”

“I said your name.”

“Exactly. You never say my name.” I hadn’t been fully prepared for how it would rattle me. Or the knowledge from that moment on, it would feel wrong coming from anyone else.

“Fine,” she chimed sweetly, hands falling from my face to fold across her chest. “If we didn’t know each other … if I wasn’tmethat night, would you have fucked me then?”

Rejection. It scoured her features too quickly for her to hide it.Absolutely not, I refused to be another person on that list.Grasping her crossed arms, I tugged her closer, securing her body even more tightly to mine so my words couldn’t be misconstrued.

“Allow me to be crystal clear this time.” My eyes bounced between hers. “I wanted to fuck you because you’reyou, that never changes. But I also knewwhyyou wanted me.I’m not a good man, sweetheart. I’ve betrayed my brother in my mind more times than I can count, and I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d selfishly taken what you offered when it was little more than pain-fuelled revenge for you.”Biggest regret of my life. Well, second, it sat right below letting Alistair meet her first.

Silence stretched. “I think that’s probably enough for now,” she nodded to the gauze.

Stamping down my disappointment, I peeled it away, dropping it onto the pile as she tilted my chin this way, then that. The fabric of her dress brushed my lower abs. I sucked in a breath. I could only hope she didn’t glance down at the growing bulge in my shorts.I didn’t even have enough brain cells remaining to be embarrassed.

“You played shit by the way,” she said, a breath before she swiped an alcohol wipe over the small wound.

“Shit, that burns. Your bedside manner could use some work.”

Her eyes danced, all humour returning as she wiped at the cut a second time. “I can leave if you like?”

“No. I wouldn’t like.” Giving into the instinct, I allowed my hand to slide around her waist, bunching the fabric of her dress. “We won, didn’t we?”

“No thanks to you.”

“So youwerepaying attention.”

She shrugged, an unusual gesture for Juniper. She didn’t play coy. And was that … a blush creeping up her neck? I dropped my head to whisper at her ear, “I was paying attention too. You’re very distracting in this little dress.” My fingers curved in, pressing grooves into her skin. The other hand falling to graze the short hem.

Her hands slid from my face, nails scraping through my beard, down my throat to where spots of blood had dried. She didn’t seem aware of the action.

“Juniper.” I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting to keep my oversensitive body at bay. The adrenaline rush after a game always left my body buzzing, and being so close to her – touching her skin – was a rush all its own. I felt like my muscles might shred apart from trying.

Her hands left my body – a flick of latex as she discarded the gloves – and then they were on me once more, cool and soft against my overheated skin. She might look at me with venom, but she didn’t touch me that way. Long fingers brushed across my cheekbones, the caress as light as butterfly wings. Then up, up, to the streaks of silver at the temples of my sweat-soaked hair.

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