The further afield they travelled, the more the colours of the land changed, too. She’d never realised before how many different shades of green there were. And every now and then the verdant shades were interspersed by acres of stunning purple heather.
In what seemed like hardly any time at all the pilot told them to prepare for landing. Keeping her sights fixed on the scenery as the helicopter descended, Imogen saw a flat, rugged landscape, with the most stunning backdrop of mountains rising up behind it, and a rush of pleasure soared through her.
The sensation was deliciously heightened when Seth curled his hand round hers. ‘Put your coat on,’ he advised. ‘It’s bound to be cold.’
The pilot turned to address them. ‘Here we are, Mr Broden. If you’d like to disembark, I’ll bring out your luggage.’
‘Thank you, Patrick.’
As soon as they were outside the helicopter a raw and icy wind made Imogen’s breath catch. Seth had been right about the drop in temperature. It was absolutely freezing. Arranging the hood of her parka with its faux fur edging more closely round her face, she felt her teeth chatter helplessly.
In contrast, he didn’t look remotely put out by the icy temperature. He had merely thrown a Burberry mackintosh over his immaculate suit, and he had the look of a suave male model about to be photographed to promote a very exclusive brand of cologne.
‘I hope that you and your young lady have a wonderful time here.’ Patrick warmly shook Seth’s hand and then Imogen’s.
Had she imagined it, or had there been a distinct twinkle in the man’s eyes when he’d glanced back at her? Did he perhaps know something that she didn’t?
There was no time to ponder, because suddenly a uniformed young couple were upon them—the man expertly arranging their luggage on a wheeled trolley as his pretty companion warmly welcomed them, announcing that her name was Nina. Then she asked them to follow her to the hotel.
Suddenly Imogen found that she had a myriad of questions to ask Seth. She still couldn’t fathom why he’d chosen Scotland for their first trip together. But he was looking straight ahead, as if he had more than enough on his mind to occupy him and wasn’t up for answering questions.
Then, as if intuiting that she was a little unsettled, he lightly touched his hand to her back as they walked towards the gracious nineteenth-century building that was their hotel.
‘If you’d like to come with me into Reception, the staff will check you in, and then I’ll show you and Miss Hayes to your suite, Mr Broden. In the meantime a porter will take your luggage up to the rooms.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re most welcome,’ Nina replied.
The young female concierge blushed as she met Seth’s arresting blue eyes, and Imogen completely understood why the woman suddenly appeared flustered.
As they travelled in the elevator up to their suite she deliberately avoided Seth’s examining gaze. She was suddenly struck dumb by what she was about to do.
Even though the kisses they’d shared were the most arousing she’d ever experienced, and had reassured her that she would have no trouble being turned on by him in bed, she was understandably apprehensive because she’d never spent the night with a man before. To some degree it helped that her handsome companion was aware of that, but still it didn’t dispel the nervousness she felt about taking things much further.
When the charming concierge had been duly thanked and tipped, she smilingly departed. Turning together, Imogen and Seth surveyed their luxurious surroundings.
‘So this is how the other half live?’ she quipped.
A smile touched her companion’s lips but he didn’t comment.
The suite door opened on to a gracious sitting room decorated in tastefully muted tones of cream and mint green. It was furnished with two generous-size spruce-coloured velvet sofas and a pair of cream armchairs arranged round an art deco coffee table.
Murmuring that it was all lovely, Imogen saw that Seth was already moving into the main bedroom to examine it. She followed him more slowly. When she arrived, for a disconcerting moment she couldn’t take her eyes off the large four-poster bed that dominated the room, draped with sumptuous cranberry and lilac silks and an array of vintage-style cushions. It came to her that it wouldn’t look out of place in a sheikh’s harem.
‘You can sleep in here tonight. I’ll take the spare bed next door,’ her companion announced casually.
Glancing up at him, Imogen frowned. ‘It doesn’t seem right that I should have it all to myself.’