Lord of the Isles: International Billionaires VIII: The Scots Read Online Free Page A

sound.
    Her fingers twitched for her missing camera, but she doggedly reminded herself she had something more important to do.
    She would not have another man’s life go wrong because she kept quiet.
    Shrugging at the beauty before her, she headed for the secret path. He’d told her no one knew except the McPhersons, and she’d shivered with delight then.
    A shiver went down her spine now as she came to the spot.
    What was she doing? What was she going to say?
    The questions thumped inside her, making her pause.
    Lilly. Think with your head not your heart.
    Her stepfather’s voice pummeled into her and her spine straightened. She’d tried to listen to him for years. But she’d learned her own way these last ten years. A better way for her.
    Now? Now she listened to her heart and it had never failed her.
    Her heart told her to keep going.
    She’d figure out what to say and do once she spotted the McPherson.
    Taking up her courage once more, she pushed aside the drape of moss clinging to the peat and dirt. Behind the curtain lay the stone steps he’d led her up that summer. By the heaviness of the moss and the stubborn grip of the dirt, it was apparent no one had climbed up or down these stairs in a long time.
    He hadn’t told anyone else. Not even the clan of friends he’d run with over the years.
    A stupid thrill ran through her, along with continued puzzlement. Why had he told her that day? What had been so special about her he’d given away a family secret? She hadn’t figured it out then, and she certainly wasn’t going to figure it out at this point. There was something else she needed to figure out.
    Whether or not Iain Arrogant McPherson needed help.
    The ancient rock steps crumpled in the middle, as if some giant had stomped down them, breaking each one. A thin glaze of moisture made them doubly treacherous. She clung to the castle’s stone wall as she inched her way towards her goal.
    The secret back door.
    An arch of stone circled around a heavy oak door with black iron studs slicing across the wood every couple of inches. When she’d been a kid, she’d thought this door enchanting and magical. Tonight, it seemed to scream at her to stay away, don’t trespass. The door was closed. Tightly. Like it was locked. Like it was meant to keep everyone away.
    Her heart lurched, surprising her.
    When had this become so important? Finding him. Making sure there wasn’t anything seriously wrong. She touched the rough wood. The arch above the door dripped with condensation, dewing her fingers with sudden wetness.
    Lilly pushed.
    The door swung open with a creak.
    He hadn’t locked it.
    Her heart sped into a furious beat.
    She was going to see him. She was going to have to think of what to do and what to say.
    A low thrum of music caught her attention, drawing her into the tiny stone foyer. The sound was dark and dreary, a dirge of some classical piece she couldn’t identify. Her stepfather was a big supporter of the New York Philharmonic, and she’d spent a lot of her childhood being dragged to symphony after symphony.
    She had no great fondness for classical music.
    The music suddenly boomed, a pounding roar of violins and drums. She jumped and the door behind her swung shut.
    For a moment, her brain swarmed with indecision.
    If he was playing music, it couldn’t be that bad, right? It could be all this worry for him was a waste. Maybe she should just turn around and creep away before she made a fool of herself over Iain McPherson once again.
    The music stopped with an abrupt snap.
    Her spine snapped to attention, too. She wasn’t a quitter, never had been, never would be.
    The guy needed someone to confront him and tell him he should get help. The villagers were too awed by hero worship and too angry about their jobs and homes to focus on Iain McPherson himself. Someone had to get in his face and slap him out of his isolation.
    Before it was too late.
    That thought pushed her out of the small, circular