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She deliberately avoided looking at Michael while the barrage of questions continued.

“He wants to take me out on a date. He says it will take a lot of planning. I guess he gets hounded everywhere he goes. I can’t imagine anything more awful. Being a superstar traps a person.”

“That’s the price you pay,” Regan said.

Michael stood quietly listening to the conversation, and when there was a lull, he downed the last of his beer and turned to Dylan. “What time are the MacAlisters getting here?”

“In a couple of hours,” he answered. “And yeah, I know. Time to lock up our women.”

Michael nodded, smiling, as he walked through the kitchen. He tugged on Isabel’s ponytail as he passed her. “Especially this one.”

With a frown Isabel spun in her chair. What was that supposed to mean? Once again, Michael was doing everything he could to irritate her. She opened her mouth to retaliate, but decided against it. Now was not the time for an argument. She turned back to the table, where the women were making plans for her big night.

Regan offered her a suite at the hotel. Isabel was grateful but told her that wouldn’t be necessary. However, she would appreciate having the same room she’d had before. Kate lined up a makeup artist and hairstylist to take care of Isabel. Jordan and Laurant weighed in on the issue of shoes. They insisted flats were out; heels were in. They would make sure the pair she decided on wouldn’t slip when she walked across the stage. To accomplish that, Laurant ran upstairs to fetch a pair for Isabel to practice walking.

Isabel felt ridiculous wearing them around the house and down the drive to break them in. Thank goodness they weren’t the six-inch stilettos Kate wanted to buy her, but the pair she had on were still awkwardly high. After about an hour she got used to them. In fact, they actually became comfortable. Who would have thought?

Once she was back in her room and alone, she began to organize her wardrobe. Because she was such a neurotic worrier, she tried to anticipate every possibility. She checked and then checked again to make sure both the suit and the dress were in the garment bag she would take to The Garden. She didn’t plan to change into her performance outfit until an hour or two before she went onstage, and if anything happened to it, she’d have the other in reserve. She even packed an extra pair of shoes.

With all of those preparations completed, she moved on to her plans after Nathan’s Bay. She needed to arrange for a driver to take her to the airport Monday, which meant she would spend Sunday night at the hotel. She felt guilty that she had misled Dylan by agreeing to ask Damon to go with her. While she would love to see her good friend again, she never had any intention of inviting him along. Besides, she was perfectly capable of going to Scotland alone.

As she was zipping her wardrobe bag closed for the last time, she heard voices coming from down below. She went to the window to look out. Everyone was outside by the pool, laughing and carrying on. The moon was bright, and when she checked the time, she was astonished by how late it was.

She could hear the shower running in the bathroom and knew Michael was still inside. When the water stopped, she waited until she heard him leave the bathroom and go through the door to his bedroom before she tried the door on her side. It was locked, so she tried to enter the bathroom from the hallway. That door was also locked. She was about to knock and ask him to unlock them, when his bedroom door opened and he stepped out. A towel draped around his neck and his hair still wet, he was dressed only in a pair of boxer briefs that rode low on his hips. She didn’t need to see that.

“Please unlock the bathroom door on my side. I want to brush my teeth,” she said, trying to act indifferent.

Even though he turned around and did what she asked, she could tell from his expression that something was bothering him. He was wound up tight tonight. After brushing her teeth, she flipped off the bathroom light and went back into her bedroom, closing the bathroom door behind her.

She had just pulled down the comforter on her bed when there was a knock on her door. She opened it to find Michael standing inches away.

“What?” She hadn’t intended to sound surly, but it was too late.

“I was going to ask if you were going down to the pool, but from your appearance I’m guessing not.”

“What’s wrong with my appearance?”

She took a step back and looked down at herself. Oops. She was dressed for bed.

“Never mind,” she said when he gave her his are you kidding? look. She folded her arms across her chest and continued. “I’m staying in. What about you? Are you going down to the pool?”

“Maybe.”

“You should,” she said.

He leaned against the doorframe. “Why?”

“Because you’re angry tonight.”

“The hell I am.” Michael realized how foolish he sounded the second the words were out of his mouth. He sounded as angry as he felt. The problem he was trying to work out had nothing to do with her, and yet she’d somehow gotten right in the middle of it, and that didn’t make any sense at all. “You shouldn’t be walking around dressed like that.”

She knew he was serious. “I’m not going to walk around. I’m going to bed.” She couldn’t leave it alone. “You know what, Michael? You’re a giant pain in the backside, and I’m going to be very happy when I can get away from you.”

“Yeah?” He walked her backward into her room, shoving the door closed behind him.

He was at it again, trying to intimidate her. He still hadn’t caught on that it didn’t work. She poked him in his chest. “Yes.”

“Isabel, you’re a temptation and a hell of a distraction I don’t need.”


Tags: Julie Garwood Buchanan-Renard Romance