Page 92

“I’m not sure about the clothes, though,” Harry adds. “I never thought of you as a casual dresser.” His eyes take in her hand-knitted lilac jumper and jeans. “But I suppose you look quite pretty.”

Harry and I can at least agree on one thing: Emily is bonny today, her face fresh and make-up free. She’s beautiful, as she is every day, but this bastard has no right to say that to her.

“I was just telling Harry he needs to go,” I growl.

Harry’s eyes flick between me and Emily, and amused realisation dawns on his features. “Wait, are you two a thing?” He points between us, the very idea apparently tickling him.

Emily doesn’t reply, but the bite of her lip and downcast gaze tell Harry everything.

“No way. This guy? Well, I suppose I can’t complain about you going on the rebound after what I put you through, but I’m back now. I messed up—I know I did—but I’m here to take you home to London.”

Emily doesn’t meet his eyes, doesn’t say anything.

“It’s time for you to go.” My tone is dangerous.

Harry ignores me. “Emily, I’m sorry about what happened. Really, I am. It was a terrible mistake—the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I just . . . panicked. I shouldn’t have called off the wedding. Please, could we go somewhere and talk? We can fix this. I know we can.”

Still Emily says nothing.

“I think the silence is your answer,” I say. “She doesn’t want to speak with you.”

“Emily!” Harry insists. “We were together for three years. We were going to be married! And then I foolishly called things off, and we’ve not talked since. For both our sakes, we should speak to each other. There are things we need to get off our chests. But coming up here to the middle of nowhere? It’s obviously a cry for help. So talk with me, please!”

“Harry, I . . .” Again, Emily trails off.

I clench my fists, attempting to keep my breathing steady. I’m so close to walloping this prat, but I’m trying damn hard to resist the temptation. Still, I reckon I’m about ten seconds from throwing him out. One word from Emily, and he’s gone.

“I understand you’re hurting, but come on!” He waves around the reception area, even waving at me. “A big Scotsman? A small town miles from anywhere? What’s the plan? You’ve jumped straight into a new relationship without thinking things through. I pushed you to this, and I’m sorry about that, but open your eyes! This isn’t you. A life here wouldn’t make you happy—you’re meant for so much more than this place. London is where you belong, with your wonderful wedding business, and with . . . well, with me.”

“Emily is happy here!” I practically spit out. “Aren’t you, Emily?”

She opens her mouth to speak but then pauses, hesitating.

After a beat, Harry scoffs. “With all due respect, how long have you known Emily? A few weeks? You’re nothing but a novelty to her, mate. You were a bit of fun for her while she was coping with our relationship ending.” He turns his attention back to his ex-fiancée. “I’m here now. You don’t have to get over me anymore because I want us to get back together!”

“Right, that’s enough.” I come out from behind the reception desk. “It’s time for you to fuck off.”

I grab a hold of his arm, and that’s when Emily finally finds her voice.

“Ally, let him go!”

“What?”

“I said let him go!”

She comes out from behind the desk too and gives me a look like I’m the one who’s done something wrong. Scarcely believing this, I release Harry. He brushes at his arm as if my touch has left dirt there.

“Emily?” I say, confused.

Harry’s words eat away at my confidence. Am I just the rebound guy? Is Bannock not enough for Emily? Has this all just been some sort of therapy for her, to help her get over what happened?

Emily doesn’t even look at me. She only has eyes for Harry. “You’re right. We should talk. Let’s go for a walk.”

And so, taking his arm, she guides him out of the hotel, although not before he shoots me a gloating grin over his shoulder.

What the actual fuck?

* * *