No Risk Refused

“You tell him, bro,” Duncan said, laughing.

“I thought we should discuss it first. What if we all took the initiative and we’d all dropped everything to run up there?” Reid asked with just a trace of annoyance in his tone.

“I checked,” Cam explained. “Duncan’s in Montana and you’re on the way to Dulles right now because the Vice President is flying to Paris.”

“How did you—?” Reid began.

“He’s CIA,” Duncan said. “And, as the middle brother, he always has to show off.”

“And I’m usually the one who gets the field assignments,” Cam pointed out. “I figured I’d get started.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” But Cam could hear the smile in Reid’s tone.

“Plus, you knew I’d jump at the chance once Mom told me that Vi and Adair had discovered an earring from Eleanor’s missing dowry.”

“One of the sapphires?” Duncan asked. “Wait. Time out. We’re talking about one of the sapphire earrings that was probably worn by Mary Stuart on her coronation day?”

“That would be correct,” Cam said.

“If I’d known that, I could have gotten away. The local police made an arrest yesterday, and I’m just hanging around to get some fishing in. Remember all the games we played that summer pretending to find those jewels?”

Cam remembered them well, and the discovery of one of them would allow him the perfect cover to visit the castle. There was no need to let his brothers know that the castle might have other problems, not until Daryl had identified Saturday’s groom-to-be as Gianni Scalzo.

“When can you get there, Cam?” Reid asked.

Always the organizing big brother, Cam thought. But all he said was, “My ETA will be early morning. I’ll check out the security system and find a better place to secure the earring than Angus One’s secret cupboard inside the house. That’s were they’ve put it, and I’m betting that most of the population of Glen Loch knows all about that cupboard, including how to pull the lever to get into it. Have a safe flight, Reid. Catch a fish for me, Duncan.”

He ended the call and walked toward his car. He had no doubt he could handle providing security for the earring Adair and Vi had found. The real problem he was facing was how he was going to handle Adair.

4

ADAIR’S EYES SNAPPED open. It took a moment for the rest of her mind to register reality. She was in bed and it was still dark. Moonlight poured through the windows. A quick glance at her digital alarm told her that she must have just dozed off. Three-thirty in the morning and something had awakened her.

Not Cam Sutherland. He’d called Vi and said he’d be arriving in the morning. But she could definitely blame him for the hot, sweaty dream that had awakened her shortly after midnight. That was when she’d opened her balcony doors to cool off.

The sound came again and she recognized it immediately. Alba was barking. Adair let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her aunt’s room was in the west wing on the other side of the main staircase, and Vi had mentioned the dog was waking up and barking during the night for no apparent reason. So far she’d managed to sleep through Alba’s nightly ritual.

Not tonight. That’s what very little sleep, a lightning strike and the discovery of a priceless sapphire earring would do for you. But they were going to keep the discovery under wraps. That’s what her father had advised when Aunt Vi had called him. And he’d said he was going to call Reid to let him know so that arrangements could be made to check out the security at the castle. In the meantime, she and Vi had hidden the earring away in a place that was as good as Fort Knox—Angus One’s secret cupboard.

Alba continued to bark.

Adair stared up at the ceiling. She’d already lost enough sleep. She didn’t need a dog robbing her of the rest of it. She was about to burrow her head beneath the pillow when she heard something else.

Not a bark. More of a…what? A creak?

Jumping out of bed, she padded softly to the door, opened it and listened hard.

Nothing.

Even the dog had gone silent. Aunt Vi had probably quieted her.

She stood there and counted to one hundred while she told herself it was nothing. The castle had never had a break-in. And Vi had assured her the latest updates on the security system had been installed.

But then she recalled how the dog had barked shortly after they’d found the earring. Alba had sensed someone or something in the hills above the stone arch. And she had been holding the earring in her hand. If there’d been someone up there lurking or spying, they’d been in a perfect position to have seen it.

Turning, she paced back into her room and checked the time. Three-forty. Then she strode back to the door and debated going downstairs. To what? To search for an intruder? Barefoot and weaponless?

No way. But there was no way she’d be able to fall back asleep either. She looked around for a weapon. Where was a large brass candlestick when you needed one? Settling on a sizable stoneware pitcher, she grabbed the handle and crept softly into the hallway.

At the top of the stairs she paused, listening again.

Nothing.

There was half a flight of stairs to a landing where tall stained glass windows filtered the moonlight. Once she reached it, she would be visible to anyone below in the foyer. She had to chance it. Taking a deep breath, she moved quickly down the stairs, rounded the curve of the banister, then slipped into the shadows and flattened her back against the wall.

She made herself take slow, silent breaths—in and out—while she counted to one hundred again. And listened. Nothing moved in the large, open foyer below. Nothing made a sound.

As seconds ticked by, she began to question whether or not she’d imagined the noise she’d heard earlier. It was an old house, she reminded herself.

She was ready to go back to her bedroom again when she heard something. A definite creak this time, as if someone had stepped on a board.

Seconds later, she heard it again.

Her heart thudded against her rib cage and she tightened her grip on the handle of the pitcher.

Security system or not, she was not alone in the house. She scanned the foyer again but the shadows didn’t budge. Step by step she started down the stairs. Slow and easy, she told herself. At the bottom she paused and listened again. To her right was a door that opened into the dining room, and an archway that led to the west wing that housed the library and the kitchen. To her left was a door that led to the main parlor.

Wood scraped against wood, and this time the creak was loud and familiar. Adrenaline spiked and her heart thudded even harder as she pinpointed the sound. The main parlor. And she knew exactly what was making it.

Someone was breaking into Angus One’s secret cupboard where she and Aunt Vi had put the earring. Temper surged through her, pushing fear aside. She was not going to let anyone steal that earring.

She moved quietly toward the door to the parlor and saw that it was ajar. The crack wasn’t wide enough to see inside the room. For a couple of seconds she debated what to do. If she called out, asked who it was, she’d alert them.

Not her best move.

The creaking sound came again, then the scrape of wood against wood. Then nothing.

Except for the footsteps. The carpeting muffled them, but they were getting closer. No time to debate her best move. She climbed onto the seat of a chair flanking the door and raised the pitcher over her head.

The opening in the door slowly widened. She stopped breathing. When the figure stepped into the foyer, she brought the pitcher down hard on his head.

He fell like a tree and the pitcher clattered and rolled across the wooden floor until it thudded into a wall.

He wasn’t moving a muscle. And he was big. The foyer was a good twelve feet wide and the man’s body filled a great deal of it.

Was he dead? Had she killed him? Her knees went so weak she nearly tumbled as she climbed down from the chair.

He moaned.

Relief had her sitting down hard in the chair. Not dead. She drew in a deep breath and the burn in her lungs told her she needed the oxygen.

The figure on the floor moaned again, then his hand snaked out, grabbed her ankle and jerked. She fell hard, the impact singing through her as he rolled on top of her and crushed her beneath him.

He was even bigger than she’d first thought. Still she fought. She went for his face but he blocked the move and pinned her hands over her head. His chest was like a slab of rock. So were his thighs. When she tried to kick he scissored his legs, trapping hers. Finally she screamed, but the only sound she mustered was a squeak.

“Princess?” Releasing her hands he levered himself up, taking some of his weight off her.

Shock was her first response. It was dark in the foyer but she knew that voice. And there was only one person who called her that. “Cam?”

For a moment neither of them moved. Adair felt as if her mind had become a clean slate, and something was happening to her body. All the fight had gone out of it and it was softening, sort of molding itself to his. Flames ignited at every contact point.