? ? ?
ISABEL HAD NO IDEA OF THE TURMOIL SHE WAS CAUSING.
It had been a long twenty-four hours, and she was worn out. She had slept only an hour at the most on the plane. Then she went through quite an ordeal at the airport when she was recognized by a tour group of teenagers on their way to a football match. Why they needed to shriek was beyond her. It only drew more attention, as other travelers joined the spontaneous fan club. She signed autographs and hurried out of there as quickly as possible.
By the time she was seated in the car she had rented under Dylan Buchanan’s name—the company had his credit card on file—her nerves were frayed. Fortunately, an hour outside of Edinburgh she found a charming hotel with available rooms. After she checked in and—due to an unfortunate little
mishap—asked where the nearest auto body shop was located, she went up to her room and got ready for bed. It wasn’t until she was plugging her phone charger in that she realized she hadn’t turned her phone on. As soon as she did, she was shocked to see that there were at least twenty calls and just as many texts. There was even a call from Detective Samuel. She assumed he wanted to thank her for the concert tickets and put him last on her callback list. Barely able to keep her eyes open, she decided she’d read the texts and answer everyone tomorrow. She did take the time to text Kate and Dylan and tell them where she was staying tonight. Then she turned off her phone again and got into bed.
Could a person be too exhausted to sleep? Isabel’s mind wouldn’t quiet down, and she tossed and turned for a long while. When she did fall asleep, it was only for an hour or two. She finally crashed just as the sun was coming up, and she slept like the dead until noon. A hot shower revived her, and by the time she was dressed, she was ready for what was left of the day.
First on her agenda was to plan her route to Dunross and Glen MacKenna. She had picked up a travel guide at the airport and opened it to a map that highlighted all of Scotland’s points of interest.
She was looking forward to taking side trips to some of these places. Since she wasn’t on a schedule, she could take her time exploring. At some point in her travels, she would call the solicitor for Glen MacKenna and let him know when she’d arrive. Until then, she was free to wander.
She called room service and ordered breakfast, then took a pen and pad from the bedside table and began to make a list of the sights she wanted to see. Just as she was reading about the history of Stirling Castle, she was interrupted by a knock on her door. Impressed that room service was so efficient, she put down her pen and went to answer.
Her mouth dropped open when she looked through the peephole. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing and looked again. He hadn’t vanished, and he wasn’t a figment of her imagination.
Michael Buchanan was standing there.
Speechless, she unlocked the dead bolt, removed the chain, and opened the door. She was so dumbfounded she could only stare up at him. When she finally found her voice, she didn’t mince words. “There’s just no getting away from you, is there?”
TWENTY-TWO
DAMN, BUT HE WAS HAPPY TO SEE HER. MICHAEL WALKED INTO THE ROOM, QUIETLY SHUT
the door, and leaned back against it. He was weak with relief. Thank God she was all right. No one had gotten to her. The tightness he’d been carrying around in his chest since he’d heard that she had left Boston was finally easing, and he could breathe.
Isabel backed away from the door. “Why are you here?” It was a reasonable question, she thought. She sat down on the side of the bed and waited for him to answer. And waited. He had such an intense look on his face. She couldn’t imagine what he was thinking.
“Michael?”
“I’m here to take you home,” he said with both relief and urgency in his voice.
The worry of the last few hours had been torture, but now that he was here with her, and she was okay, it was time for action.
“Why would I want to go home? I just got here.”
He hated answering her because he knew he was going to scare her. “Something has happened,”
he began, slowly walking toward her.
She jumped to her feet. “Oh my God, did someone in the family get hurt? Is it Kate? Dylan?” Her mind raced with dire possibilities.
He put his hand up. “Everyone back home is fine. You’re the one in trouble.”
Before she could demand an explanation, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her. “I was . . .
worried about you, but you’re all right.”
Isabel was utterly confused. Why was he acting so strange? It wasn’t like him to be so emotional.