From Scotland with Love by Katie Fforde Page B

and then leave it with him.’
    He gave a long sigh and then said, ‘I’ve always loved this place, but just recently I’ve come to love it more. Losing it would be incredibly painful.’
    ‘Then don’t lose it, keep it,’ said Daisy.
    He took an agonisingly long time to think about it. ‘All right. I’ll tell David that’s what I want to do. See what he says.’
    Daisy didn’t comment. Rory’s agent was notorious for getting fantastically large deals. She only hoped she wouldn’t be held responsible if the deal completely bankrupted Athene.
    ‘It’s getting dark,’ said Daisy a little later. ‘And it’s only lunch time.’
    ‘We should go back,’ said Rory. ‘Mari will be wanting to go home.’
    Two days later the thaw came. They heard on the news that the roads were beginning to clear and that normal service was resuming. Reluctantly, Daisy made plans to leave. Rory didn’t suggest she stayed any longer and besides, Daisy needed to get back, back to real life and the hustle and bustle of London and her job.
    Rory insisted on her keeping the cashmere dressing gown and Daisy felt that if it meant she had to check in her luggage and not just have carry-on, it was worth it. It was a fabulous garment! But in her heart she knew it wasn’t just because it was beautiful and warm and suited her that she wanted it but because it would always remind her of her time with Rory. He also said she should wear the coat and scarf and boots, too. The boots she had arrived in were ruined so she didn’t argue too much. But again, it was the memories, not the clothes themselves, that made her want them.
    She had said long and fond farewells to the puppies, who all now had names, and a longer one to Grizzie who now felt like a sister, they had shared so much.
    She was very business-like with Rory. ‘Thank you so much for not kicking me out into the snow,’ she said, jumping up slightly so she could kiss his cheek.
    ‘Thank you for delivering Grizzie’s puppies. I was hopeless.’
    ‘You’d have managed just fine,’ she said briskly, looking about for her case.
    ‘Daisy –’
    She looked up. He put his hand on her cheek and held it, looking into her face, his expression unreadable. ‘You’re very young.’
    Daisy understood. She was too young for him; that was why he hadn’t kissed her again, or never shown if he had feelings for her. There had been a moment when she felt she’d spotted something in his expression that indicated there might have been a hint of desire. But now he was being practical, and she must be the same. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I think it’s a good thing!’
    ‘Generally, it’s good,’ said Rory, slightly rueful. ‘This time –’
    Just then the hooting of the taxi horn stopped him saying more. Daisy wondered if they were destined always to be interrupted just as Rory might be about to say or do something lovely.
    ‘I’d better go.’
    ‘Yes. You’d better.’
    She had just set off down the track towards the waiting taxi (it was the same grumpy driver – she recognised his car) when she turned round and came hurrying up the hill again.
    ‘What? Have you changed your mind about going?’ said Rory. His voice sounded as if he might be smiling.
    Daisy didn’t allow herself to look at him, to see if he would like it if she had changed her mind. She just flung her case on the floor and opened it. ‘The bloody book plates! I never got you to sign them!’
    A month later, Daisy was at her desk. Her trip to Scotland, such a mistake in many ways, had lead to her being promoted. This, Venetia had told her, was not just because she’d managed to get Rory McAllen to do what no one else had ever done and sign a four-book deal, but because her time in the Far North had made her much more sensible. Daisy had not argued. She’d learnt a lot up there in the mountains and she knew her time there had been very special for lots of reasons, some of them perfectly sensible, but the dominant one,