Echoes of Edinburgh (6 page)

Shelby's eyes widened, but she stood her ground.

Tucking his fist under her chin, Harrison swiped his thumb over the corner of her mouth, absorbing the juice. Such soft skin. Incredible lips. If he'd singed his hand on a toaster oven, it couldn't be any more powerful. The brush of his fingers on her chin ignited a slow burn in his gut. He slowly withdrew his hand, fighting the strong urge to draw Shelby close and taste those tempting lips.

Shelby appeared not in the least self-conscious. “Guess you can't take me anywhere.”

“It's not that,” he said. “I don't want you to embarrass yourself, being with a clown and all.”

I'm in big trouble here, Lord
. He'd be praying about Shelby tonight. Problem was, what exactly should he pray for? To keep his distance or praise God for finding this treasure of a woman?

Any attractive woman could trigger this response. Yeah, right. Denial was one thing but delusion another, and only a fine line separated the two.

 

 

 

 

7

 

Why did Harrison have to touch her face? Trouble was, not only did Shelby like it, she'd wanted more. She needed to resist this man. Easier in theory than practice. Those deep, blue-green eyes invited her to dive in with an undeniable lure.

Walking back to the car, Shelby enjoyed the teasing banter between the two men. The kind of easy, comfortable friendship they shared was rare. As Robert drove them back to the Radisson, he was quiet. His bags of food sat on the passenger seat, and he'd encouraged her to sit in the back with Harrison. Interesting arrangement, but why resist?

On the short drive, Harrison shared amusing stories of a few language blunders he'd made in Scotland. Most men she knew wouldn't be so free to admit their shortcomings or mistakes. Then again, Harrison was nothing like most men she'd known—in all the best ways. She'd sensed it from the moment she'd first spied him in the Castlehill Gardens.

After Robert pulled the car to the front entrance of her hotel, he gave her a warm smile. “I'll arrange for you to tour the castle, if you'd like, Shelby. Does Thursday morning work?”

“Sounds terrific. I'll look forward to it.”

“I'll call you, and we can make plans. If it fits in your schedule, I hope you'll stay for lunch.”

“Lunch at the castle?” she said. “That's an offer a girl can't refuse.”

While she thanked Robert, Harrison slipped out of the car and walked around to open her door. “Talk to you tomorrow,” he said to his friend before walking with her into the hotel lobby. “Thanks for not letting on to Pops that you know about his job at the castle.”

“Like you mentioned, Robert's private. I respect that, and I don't want to overstep my bounds. After all, I barely know him. Or you, for that matter.”

Shelby could tell her comment made him curious.

“How long do you think you have to know someone to care for them, Shelby?”

Stepping to the side of the lobby, Shelby faced him. “You're very direct, aren't you? Define ‘care.'”

When Harrison moved closer, she hardly dared to breathe. His blond hair was slightly mussed from the breeze, and she resisted the impulse to smooth it down.

“The kind of caring where you offer to show someone around the city,” he said. “The kind of caring where you want to spend as much time with her as you can while she's here.” When she hesitated, he must have taken it as indecision. “I'm a decent tour guide and have a lot more free time than Pops since I set my own schedule.” His smile melted her, found its way into her subconscious. “I promise not to bore you.”

“I'd really like that, Harry.” Wonderful. She'd said the same exact thing several times during the course of their afternoon together. “I do have other words in my vocabulary.”

“I know. You've used quite a few of them today.” The familiar smile teased the corners of his mouth and reached his eyes. “Shall I meet you here at eleven tomorrow then? The weather's supposed to be perfect, sunny and warm with a light breeze. We can walk The Royal Mile and grab some lunch. Take it from there and make a day of it.”

“I'd really like that.” It was simply all she could manage.

 

 

 

 

8

 

Sunday Morning, Day Three

When a knock sounded on the door, Shelby checked her watch. Still an hour until she was scheduled to meet Harrison. Who could it be? She hadn't ordered anything from room service or the hotel staff.

“Who's there?” Looping the belt on her robe, she crossed the room to the door. Not hearing a response, Shelby peered through the peephole, seeing no one. She opened the door to the quiet hallway and gasped in delight when she spied a single, long-stemmed, yellow rose on the carpet at her feet. A small envelope which read
For Shelby
was attached, dangling from the stem by a thin white satin ribbon.

“How lovely.” A glance up and down the hallway revealed no other roses. She picked it up and twirled it between her fingers. Running her finger down the stem in an absent manner, Shelby smiled. De-thorned. Bringing the rose close, she inhaled the fresh bloom's sweet fragrance.

Back inside the room, she untied the ribbon and pulled out the card, noting the message in a small but legible scrawl, “
...then people will say, along this road i saw a princess pass...
”

“e. e. Cummings,” she murmured, recognizing the well-known poem from a college literature class. She could envision Harrison hand selecting this gorgeous rose, writing the note, and even personally delivering it to her hotel. It certainly wasn't outside the realm of expectation, based on what she'd learned about him. She'd met the man less than forty-eight hours ago. With this incredibly romantic overture, he'd captured her attention all over again.

Her smile sobered. Her clients depended on her. As it was, she'd ignored the voice mails from the firm and more than a few e-mails. Maybe she should book a seat on the next flight to Chicago and run to the airport. Get back to business as usual and not spend another minute with the handsome charmer from Alabama.

No, maybe you should stay
.

Shelby's mental tug-of-war continued as she retrieved a glass from the mini-bar, filled it with water, and placed the rose inside. This single rose meant more than a dozen, precious for the promise it represented. If Harrison cared enough to bring it to her, then she owed it to him—owed it to
herself
—to spend the day with him. She deserved a break every now and then.

As planned, Harrison met her in the lobby an hour later, the image of urban sophistication in navy pants and a white, button-down oxford shirt opened at the collar and rolled on his muscular forearms. When her gaze traveled to his feet, she grinned. Scuffed cowboy boots.

As he'd done the day before, Harrison greeted her with a quick kiss on each cheek, prompting a small shiver of pleasure to run through her. As he pulled away, she noticed he wore no watch. How could a person survive without a watch?

“Would you mind going to a Sunday morning worship service with me? I didn't mean to spring it on you without asking ahead of time, but—”

“I don't mind,” she said, perhaps too quickly. “Not at all.” A sharp pang of conscience struck her. Not once had going to church in Scotland crossed her mind, and she'd barely remembered it was Sunday. What kind of God-fearing, good Christian girl was she? Certainly a lapsed one. Sundays back in Chicago meant laundry and errands, not church. Shelby pasted on a smile she hoped would cover her oversight. “I'd say that's a great way to start the day. Are we going to St. Giles or one of the other cathedrals?”

“No, but you're in for a treat,” he said, his smile inviting. “The church—called a ‘kirk' here—isn't far and the late service starts in thirty minutes. It's a non-denominational, evangelical church. Is that all right with you?”

She nodded, pleased by his consideration. “I'd really like—” She stopped, and they shared a smile.

“You look beautiful, Shelby. Ready to go?” Harrison's manner was smooth, but genuine. She'd worked with enough idle flatterers to discern the difference.

“Thank you,” she said. “Let's go.” The sparkle in his eyes made her thankful she'd chosen a cap-sleeved, cotton floral dress, simple but well-made. She carried the matching lightweight sweater over her arm. Since she hadn't intended to stay in Edinburgh, she hadn't brought many clothes, and the dress was perhaps the most appropriate for church. High-heeled sandals would have been nice, but not for a planned day of walking, so she'd slipped on her ballet flats, hoping the streets had dried from the overnight rain.

Outside the hotel, she squinted in the blinding sunlight and inhaled deeply. “It's such a gorgeous morning, isn't it? I can still smell the rain. I love how it clears the air and everything's so fresh and crisp.”

A few minutes later, they entered an old brick building. “This is one of the few buildings on The Royal Mile still used for its original purpose,” Harrison said, his warm lips close to her ear.

Did he have any idea how his nearness affected her? He was simply being himself, and she was a woman who hadn't been pampered by a man other than her father in far too long. She was in God's house now. Time to behave, not act giddy because she was spending the day with a handsome, wonderful companion.

“Welcome to Carubbers Christian Centre.” A man Shelby could only describe as jolly—short and round with a white beard, wire-framed glasses, and a bright smile—handed her a program before pumping Harrison's hand up and down. “Thank ye for joining us on this fine morning our Lord has made. Be prepared to receive a blessing.”

Shelby found a seat inside the spacious main hall, and Harrison settled beside her, shoulders touching. The lively crowd had to number in the hundreds. Others around them shook their hands with smiles and enthusiastic greetings.

A few minutes later, studying the program, she read how the church started as a mission in an alley in 1858 with the purpose of introducing children to Christ's teachings. “It says here that D. L. Moody helped raise money to build the church, and he preached at the laying of the foundation stone.” She lowered the program onto her lap and gave Harrison a smile. “What a wonderful ministry, and such a rich history.”

Harrison kept his voice low as the musicians began to tune their instruments and announcements were made. “Robert regularly attends Carubbers, but he had something work related today, or he'd have joined us. I always come here whenever I'm in Edinburgh. In my estimation, it's one of the best ways to start the week.”

Sitting next to Harrison, singing the hymns and choruses, Shelby sneaked glances at his strong, masculine profile. She loved listening to his tenor voice that veered slightly off-key when he strained to reach the higher notes. Good thing he couldn't reach those anyway, since singing falsetto wasn't something she really looked for in a man. Not that she was looking.

“Reading from the Holy Scriptures, from Isaiah 41:10,” the pastor said, “
So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with My righteous right hand
.”

Shelby pondered those words. She knew the Lord craved her fellowship, wanted to be involved in her life. She needed to trust Him to help her with the decisions she faced. Problem was, ever since Daddy's death, she'd struggled with trust, even with the Almighty. She released a deep sigh and tears filled her eyes.

Harrison tapped her arm. “Everything all right?”

She nodded without speaking, touched by his caring gesture.

At one point during the service, Shelby nudged Harrison's shoulder like he'd done when they sat on the park bench outside Abernethy's. “Thank ye for bringing me here, Harry. ‘Tis very special.”

 

****

 

An hour later, Harrison strolled beside Shelby along The Royal Mile. They took their time, peeking in shop windows and enjoying the day and one another. In her pretty dress, Shelby was beyond gorgeous. By the way she responded to him, he figured she wasn't dating anyone seriously. Surely, she had lots of dates—or invitations—from men. How could she not?

He'd had a hard time sleeping the night before, thinking about the way her cheeks flushed when he paid her a compliment. The way she gave him a shy smile and then came out with a witty zinger that stole his breath. He'd appreciated Shelby's reaction to the people and the worship service. At one point, she'd appeared contemplative and the pastor's message seemed to touch her heart. He'd pray for whatever inner struggle she faced.

Overall, she'd relaxed and interacted with the others, shook hands, laughed, and enjoyed herself. Unless his overactive imagination was playing tricks on him, she'd winked at him twice. He doubted she even realized it. What an incredible difference from only two days ago when they'd first met, making him wonder what tomorrow might bring. The possibilities intrigued him.

“Harry, come look at this.” Pausing on the sidewalk, Shelby pointed to something green and sparkly in a shop window. As she moved closer to admire the emerald pendant, he stood rooted to the sidewalk and admired
her
.

“You know, every morning when I walk from the train to my office building, I pass an upscale jewelry store. Not once have I ever stopped to look in one of the windows. Not even at Christmas when they're so whimsical and festive.” She shook her head, regret written in her features. “I'm beginning to think that's a criminal offense.”

“Well, you did
admit to pine cone theft. I'm keeping company with a habitual offender, it would seem.”

Shelby smirked. “I knew that admission would somehow come back to haunt me.”