Free A Touch of Summer by Evie Hunter Page A

was hot. That slow purposeful stride as he walked outside sent a tingle down her spine. A week. A whole week locked up in a remote Scottish cabin with him and already he was driving her crazy. She had watched him chop enough wood to last several winters while trying to ignore the slick of sweat on his arms and abs. Flynn had remained his usual cool, professional, annoying self.
    Although they were forced to share the only bed in the tiny cabin – it was either that or the floor – Flynn hadn’t touched her, saying that he never mixed business with pleasure. It was a little too late for that sentiment. Sumer nibbled her lower lip as she remembered the night he had broken that rule. OK, it had been stupid to think she could evade a professional bodyguard for the night – especially one like Flynn.
    Later, she had paid for it when he had punished her. Flynn had taken charge of her – mind, body and soul. It had the most incredible sexual experience of her life. She had finally found a man who could fulfil all her fantasies, but he might as well be a thousand miles away. Stubborn bloody Scot. Why couldn’t he have been like the rest of her former bodyguards? Once she had found their weaknesses, they had been easy to get rid of. But not this one. For the next three weeks they were stuck together.
    Summer wiped her hands and tightened the cap on the bottle. Olive oil would have to do until she got back to civilization. She moved to the window. In spite of the rain, it was beautiful here. The tiny croft was surrounded by mountains and acres of dark green forest that swept down to the crystal-clear waters of the loch. It would have been a perfect place for a honeymoon.
    'Don’t think about that,' she warned herself, giggling, when she realized that she had spoken the words aloud in the empty room. There would be no more falling in love for her, especially not with men who only wanted her for her money.
    'Summer.' Flynn’s voice carried into the croft. 'Pack your things; we’re going on a trip.'
    'We’re getting out of here? Count me in.' She replaced the bottle on the rough wooden shelf which constituted the croft’s larder. What was the Scot planning now? It didn’t matter. They were getting out of here for a while. She hurried up to the loft to pack before he changed his mind.
    By the time she stuffed her meagre wardrobe into her rucksack and climbed down the ladder, Flynn was already packing the jeep. He took her battered rucksack from her and placed it beside his dark leather holdall.
    'Would you like to tell me where we’re going?' she said.
    His hazel eyes twinkled and he failed to conceal his grin. What was he so happy about? 'Why?' he asked. 'Did you have other plans for the weekend?'
    Summer looked around her at the remote valley. They were miles from civilization. 'Why, yes. I thought I might buy some shoes. After that I could have a manicure and maybe meet the girls for cocktails.'
    'Oh, in that case …' Flynn said. He reached for their bags, prepared to unpack the jeep. 'I thought you’d be happy to get out of here for a few days. But if you’d rather not …'
    'No,' she protested. 'Let’s get going.'
    Anywhere would be an improvement on this. They were living in one room with an open fire their only source of heat. The croft had no electricity and the only ‘bathroom’ was a tin hut at the end of the garden path. She could barely wash in the miserable amount of warm water that the solar powered shower produced and had taken to swimming in the icy loch to keep clean.
    Flynn returned to the croft to fetch the rest of the things. 'We’re going to take a trip up north,' he called over his shoulder.
    The man was infuriating. Summer followed him into the cabin, noting that he had already put out the fire and that the tiny kitchen area was spotlessly clean. There were no food scraps left to tempt the mice. 'We’re in the highlands of Scotland. Just how much further north can we go?'
    Flynn ignored her