CHAPTER TWO

      Kanye West kept trying to convince me that what doesn’t kill me, would make me stronger as I jogged along the streets of Glasgow on Saturday morning. It was by no stretch of the imagination a warm April day. A chill hung in the air, wrapping its frozen fingers around the city. It reminded me of the brisk spring mornings in Connecticut, where I grew up. I inhaled the frosty air, daring it to freeze out my lungs as I ran. It was a good way to keep myself honest, seeing as I’d been living in the sweltering heat of Florida for five years. One could get very used to the luxury of warm weather all the time.

      Our hotel had a gym, but I preferred the outdoors. I loved to run. It was something I picked up in college as a stress reliever during midterms. Other kids drank; I ran. I often wished I could run right out of my skin sometimes. The escape was wonderful.

      Some of my favorite moments were spent running along Cocoa Beach early on a summer morning. But that was with him. Thinking about those days brought back a flood of memories that I tried not to dwell upon. When things were good, they were great. Then it all went down in flames. I swallowed hard against the sandpapery lump that fought its way up my throat. I packaged the memories and shoved them to the back of my mind.

      I jogged for a little more than a half mile before I came upon a clearing. A huge manicured field stretched out to my left. About seven or eight young boys were playing soccer on one end. A flurry of activity at the far end caught my attention, so I slowed my pace to a brisk walk.

      A group of guys was playing rugby. I’d never actually seen the game played in person before, so I walked to the edge of the field. But it was just my luck that the match had ended. The guys all clapped one another on the back and chatted amongst themselves as they grabbed their gym bags. As I got closer, one of them looked right at me. The force of his stare stopped me in my tracks.

      He walked over in long, graceful strides. Sunlight glinted off his dark red hair, accentuating the chocolate flecks. Oh wow, it’s him. I lowered the music and hastily wiped sweat from my cheeks.

      “Well, hello.” His rich, velvety voice swirled around me.

      I swallowed hard. “Hi.”

      “I thought you looked familiar. Had any more encounters with wayward carpets since last night?”

      “No. I walk exclusively on hardwood now.”

      “Wise choice.”

      Without the benefit of my high heels, he towered over me. He was hot even with mud caked on his clothes. And wow, did he smell good. Traces of cologne still lingered on him mixed with his post-game sweat and pheromones. It was so intoxicating I had to look away. When I focused on him again, he was studying me with the same guarded curiosity as last night. Part of me wished I wasn’t a hot, sweaty mess.

      “I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name,” he said with a small grin.

      “Oh. I’m Amelia Meyers. But please, call me Lia.”

      “Pleasure to meet you, Amelia.” My name rolled off his tongue readily, like he’d been born to say it for all eternity. “What brings you to Glasgow?”

      “A wedding.”

      He slung a gym bag over his shoulder, grasping the strap. The small movement caused his muscles to flex.

      “Yours?”

      “What? Oh God no. My sister’s.”

      “The one in London?”

      “Yep.”

      “Why isn’t she getting married there?”

      This guy was awfully nosey.

      “They thought it would be romantic to have a wedding at a Scottish castle. Her fiancé is from Newcastle, so it was either London, Newcastle or Scotland.” I shrugged, stealing a glance at him.

      “How long will you be in Glasgow?”

      “We leave—“

      “We?”

      “Yeah. My best friend and I. She’s—”

      “She,” he said quietly. Bright emerald irises slid over my face as he traced one of his slender fingers along his mouth. I wanted to snap at him for all the interrupting, but a flurry of nerves ran through my stomach. It’s not physically possible for someone to become more attractive overnight, is it? I blinked myself out of this hypnotic state.

      “Oi! We’re off to eat, mate. Come on,” an impatient, stocky man yelled.

      Tall, Dark and Sexy clearly didn’t enjoy being at the receiving end of that. His expression hardened as he turned around. I could only imagine the look he gave the other guy. It must have been scathing because the poor soul abruptly left.

      When he faced me again his eyes were blazing hot.

      “Finished with your run? I can drive you back to—”

      “No,” I blurted out. “I mean, I’m not done yet, but thank you.”

      The thought of sitting in an enclosed space with him was too much to handle. Standing this close to him in an open field was challenging enough.

      “You’re sure? You look a bit out of breath.”

      “Doubting my stamina?” I put my hands on my hips, narrowing my eyes.

      The corner of his mouth ticked up into a small grin. “Not at all. I’m quite sure you can go for a while, but jogging can be taxing on the body. A slow and steady climb is best to achieve maximum results.”

      I wasn’t entirely sure we were talking about exercise anymore. I couldn’t form a sentence, so I stared at him.

      “Don’t let me keep you.”

      He gestured to the field. That little mischievous grin rankled me to the core. He’s teasing me. He’s got me flustered and now he’s teasing me. In an instant he managed to turn me on and turn me off simultaneously.

      I still couldn’t form a complete sentence, which pissed me off.

      “Okay then. Nice to see you again.” He kept grinning and sauntered off toward the parking lot leaving me in a funk. Annoyed by my pre-teen giddiness, I turned up my iPod and ran like hell.

      Stephanie was awake and all bright eyed and bushy tailed when I got back. She buzzed around the suite in a huge fluffy robe, laying clothes on the couch.

      “Hey. How was your run?”

      “Eventful.” I tossed