Can't Tie Me Down! (Sinclair Sisters 1)

Prologue

Once upon a time, there were four Scottish sisters. These sisters grew up poor in the small town of Campbeltown, in the Mull of Kintyre (yes, Paul McCartney’s Mull of Kintyre). When the eldest sister, Isobel, was sixteen, she fell pregnant to a boy who ran away as soon as he found out he was going to be a father. To make matters worse, Isobel’s no-good, gambling and drinking tyrant of a father kicked her out of the house, leaving her to raise her baby alone.

But he misjudged his children, because Isobel wasn’t alone.

As soon as her three younger sisters were able, they each left home and followed Isobel to the tiny village of Arness (which isn’t that far from Campbeltown, but the houses were cheaper, so that’s why Isobel moved there). Together, the four sisters worked to support each other and help Isobel raise her child.

One day, Isobel met a man and everything changed. This man was honorable and loved Isobel with all of his heart. He also ran a security company in London, and soon Isobel and her children (Isobel had a short marriage to a loser, which produced another child, but we won’t talk about that here. Let’s just say Isobel found it hard to keep her pants on, or to remember birth control!) moved away from Kintyre, to live happily ever after at the other end of Britain.

Which meant her three sisters were left alone and lost without her. They’d spent their entire adult lives working together to help Isobel, and now they had to find a purpose of their own. This book tells the story of one of those sisters, and how she managed to find her own version of a fairytale happily ever after.

But be warned, she’s still a Sinclair sister, and those women don’t do anything the easy way. Take the youngest of the four, Mairi, for example...

Chapter 1

It was an idyllic summer’s day on Scotland’s Kintyre peninsula. The sun was shining. The sky was blue. Gentle waves lapped at the shore beside the village of Arness. The Atlantic was calm, and through the morning haze, you could just about make out the coast of Ireland. The old gray stone buildings dotted around the village were postcard perfect, and there was purple heather growing on the bluff above the sea. Even the fields seemed greener than usual. Mairi Sinclair half expected a couple of Disney-style bluebirds to flutter past her bedroom window, carrying a sheet to hang on the line. It was perfect, until someone pounded on her front door.

“You need to get your bum out of bed and answer that,” Agnes, Mairi’s roommate and sister, snapped from the bathroom. “I’m getting ready for work.”

And there went her chance at a lazy day in bed.

Reluctantly, Mairi threw back the bedcovers, just as there was another round of loud and impatient thumping at the front door.

“I’m coming,” Mairi shouted, with quite a bit of irritation.

She threw on a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt with a photo of Princess Leia holding a blaster and the words Don’t Mess With a Princess and ran, barefoot, for the door.

And that was when Mairi realized there was no way to salvage her potentially perfect day.

Because at eight thirty on a Saturday morning, she opened her front door to find Captain Kirk smiling at her—a five-foot-four Pakistani Captain Kirk.

“You are surprised.” He beamed. “This is good.”

Mairi blinked several times, but no, he was still there. “Amir?”

“Who else would it be on this fine Scottish morning?” He tugged at the hem of his gold captain’s uniform.

“Amir? In Scotland? At my house?”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but Mairi needed a minute. She held up her hand. “Just a sec.” And shut the door.

“Who was that?” One of Mairi’s three older sisters, Agnes, was dressed for a shift working reception at a hotel in Campbeltown. She wore a navy pantsuit, black heels and a crisp white shirt. Her golden blonde hair was in a neat French knot, and her makeup was minimal. She looked every inch the hotel manager she aspired to be, and no doubt would be, once she’d passed her final exams. “Mairi, pay attention. Who’s at the door?”

“Amir.” Mairi wondered if more coffee would help her brain cope with finding one of her online boyfriends on her doorstep.

“Amir who?” Agnes headed for the kitchen alcove in their living area.

“He’s an online boyfriend.”

Agnes stopped dead and turned slowly toward her. “One of your geeks is here? In person?”