“Yes,” she said. “Whoever wants me gone will find out I’m here, but if we stay off the beaten path, and I don’t tell anyone who I am, we should be all right . . . for a while.”
God, she was naive. “You have millions of followers on the Internet,” he reminded.
“I won’t use my credit cards with my name—”
“You’re gonna be recognized.”
“Not if we only stop in small villages.”
“Sweetheart, the people living in these small villages know how to use the Internet.”
“Yes, of course they do. I’m still going to stop and talk to them. I’ll just have to be cautious.”
Cautious? He wasn’t sure she knew what the word meant. She had crazy faith in people, and it was going to get her into trouble one day.
Oh, hell yes, he was going with her.
He hated that they had to stay until Wednesday, but he vowed he would make it as safe as possible for Isabel. He didn’t care if the law was on his side or not, he would kill anyone who tried to hurt her.
Admittedly, he thought her demands were outrageous. Driving from village to village in the Highlands so she could talk to people was crazy, and yet he had agreed. Maybe he was crazy, too.
“Isabel, we need to establish some ground rules.”
She was so thankful he was going with her she decided not to complain, unless, of course, his ground rules were unreasonable. “I’m listening.”
He looked at his watch and then said, “After you pack, we’ll check out and head north. You can have the rest of the day and evening to talk to people and ask questions. I’ll drive you wherever you want to go. You can also have all day Tuesday and Tuesday evening, but Wednesday you and I are in Dunross meeting with your solicitor. Agreed?”
“But what if—”
“And Isabel,” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken, “this schedule could change in a heartbeat. If I feel there’s going to be trouble or it becomes dangerous, we aren’t stopping to talk to anyone. Agreed?”
“What if I need more time to—”
“Wednesday, Isabel. We’re in Donal Gladstone’s office on your birthday, which is Wednesday.
Agreed?”
His tone was hard, and she knew he wasn’t going to bend. “Agreed,” she said. “Any other rules?”
“You don’t go anywhere without me, and I mean anywhere.”
“What about the ladies’ room?”
“If it’s empty, you can go in, and I’ll stand outside the door. I won’t let anyone else in until you come out.”
She thought he was taking that rule a bit too far but didn’t argue. “Okay. What else?”
“You don’t tell anyone your name, and if you’re asked any questions, all your answers have to be vague or you don’t answer at all.”
“Not answering at all would be rude, but if that’s what you want, I’ll do it. Anything else?” she asked, and before he could answer she said, “If anyone wants to know how we’re related, I could say I’m your sister.”
“Oh, hell no.”
“It was just a suggestion. No need to get prickly. Okay, I’ll be vague or just won’t answer.”
“Right,” he agreed. “Let them think whatever they want.”
“What happens when we check into a hotel?”
“I’ll check us in,” he said. “And wherever we stay, we’re in the same room.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, considering . . .”
“Same room,” he repeated, his tone unbending.
She slowly nodded. “Okay,” she said. In a whisper she added, “If you think you can handle it.”
He heard her, of course. “I can.”
Trying not to sound irritated, she asked, “Are there any other rules?”
“No. That about covers it.”
The way Michael was looking at her now, as though he wanted to say more but was holding back, was making her very nervous. Filling the silence, she said, “You should eat something.” She poured a glass of orange juice and placed it in front of him. Then she took a scone from the basket and began to spread clotted cream on it. “I don’t understand how you can go with me. Don’t you have to be somewhere soon? With your rigid schedule, how can you take time?”
“My rigid schedule? I don’t have a rigid schedule.”
She slowly nodded. “Yes, you do. Would you like me to explain? I know how your mind works, Michael.”