“So you offered him the mechanic’s job?”
He took a step toward her. “His dad used to own the only garage in the area, but he sold it, and the person who bought it renovated and turned it into an inn. Fergus didn’t want to leave Ardnoch, so I decided the estate should have its own small fleet of cars for chauffeuring members to and from the airport, or for those who wanted to explore the Highlands. The mews required a mechanic and valet.”
Robyn’s eyes narrowed as her gaze slid away from him to the studio exit.
She considered something.
How did he know that about her already?
“What is it?” He took another step toward her.
Her eyes flickered back to him, down his body and up again upon the realization he’d moved closer. When their eyes met, he saw now that hers looked browner today than they had yesterday. “We need to put Fergus on our suspect list.”
It was like someone slammed open the studio door and an icy spring wind ripped through him. He retreated physically and mentally. “Excuse me?”
“Arrochar dumped him. And then Brodan left him behind. Who’s to say he isn’t taking that out on you?”
“That’s a thin argument, Robyn. And you can’t go around accusing good people of heinous crimes. People I care about.”
“Look, I’m sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry at all. “But I have a dad lying in a hospital bed recovering from three knife wounds perpetrated upon him by a man who fits Fergus’s physical description. I’m not accusing him. I’m just … considering all theories.”
He could feel his anger brewing steadily hotter.
Robyn seemed to sense it. She held up a hand as if warding him off. “You’re allowed to be mad at me. But you also have to cooperate.” He watched her, unable to speak for fear he’d insult her and thus piss off Mac, as she strode across the studio to grab a shoulder bag and her camera.
“Why do you take that thing everywhere?” He gestured in irritation at the camera. He wasn’t a fan of cameras. Lachlan connected them to an invasion of privacy.
Robyn shrugged. “I own a photography business.”
The urge to ask her why she gave up police work was strong, but becoming curious about this woman was not a path he should let himself go down. “Why do you need the camera on the estate? You know there’s no way I’ll give you permission to print any photographs you take here.”
“I’m going to take some shots outside the estate once I’m done here. I didn’t see the point in driving back to the Gloaming for my camera when I’m going in the opposite direction. Is that okay with you, oh lord and master?” She threw him a dry smirk as he held open the studio door for her to exit.
Ignoring her sarcasm, Lachlan followed her down the porch steps. Before he could think of an appropriate and cutting response, she spoke again.
“Tell me about the village.”
He looked down at her as they walked up the path toward the castle. “What do you want to know?”
“You can guarantee your members privacy on the estate, but how can you guarantee them privacy in the village?”
“I can’t.”
Her eyes widened. “Lachlan Adair just admitted to something he can’t do.”
He flashed her a dark smile. “You say that like you know me.”
Robyn’s eyes narrowed, her thick lashes almost concealing them from him entirely. Her full lips made a moue in thought. “You’re right. I don’t know you. I only know you through what the internet says, and we all know that’s a place truth goes to die.”
Lachlan snorted. She grinned up at him.
Then she tripped on a crack in the path he’d been on maintenance to fix for a week. She let out an oof as her body launched forward.
Instinctively, he reached out, hauling her against him to steady her.
He could feel every inch of her curves.
Could feel her heat.
Smell that musky floral perfume that suited her perfectly.
She pushed against him with a strength that belied her slender build, and he quickly released her.
“Are you okay?” he asked gruffly.
Robyn wouldn’t look at him as she brushed strands loosened from her ponytail behind her ears. “I’m fine. I just need to watch where I’m going.”
“The path will be repaired. I’ll make sure to mention it to maintenance again.”
“It’s fine. I would have stopped myself from face-planting even if you hadn’t caught me.”
His lips twitched at the stubborn tilt of her chin.
Lachlan had a feeling it would take a miracle for this woman to admit she ever needed someone.
“You were saying,” she continued, “about the village. You can’t guarantee privacy?”
Deciding to give her what she wanted, he replied, “No. But it’s quiet there during the off-season, like now. During the summer, however, tourists pile into Ardnoch for the award-winning beaches and in the hopes of seeing a famous person. With them come the tabloids. Most of the club members stick to the estate during the summer, or they take vehicles out and drive farther afield.”