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next time she saw him. Kara wobbled across the bridge without looking down, only to be greeted by gargoyles and a nearly sheer flight of steps.
    By the time she’d staggered to the top, ducked the portcullis, found the bell pull and rung it with all her might, she was out of breath and ready for a nice sit down. Hopefully, the owner might take pity. Then again, considering the old-fashioned iron-pinned door she was facing, she half expected Igor to answer.
    Instead, the barking of dogs chorused the arrival of the human inhabitant.
    ‘Toby! Horace!’ A male voice boomed over the patter of paws on the floor tiles. Kara blinked into the yellow light that shone out of the open door. ‘Good evening. Are you lost?’ A bare-chested man stood before her.
    Kara gave a little croak. OK, Christopher was forgiven. Whatever she’d been expecting – crooked little old man – it wasn’t this.
    Long blond hair fanned over the top of his shoulders and rested at the top of his tattooed biceps.
    ‘The causeway’s crossable now, though I’d recommend a torch,’ he remarked without even looking at her. He released one of the huge dogs, whom he had by the collar, in order to plunge his hand into a box of LED keychain lights. He offered one to Kara which she took automatically while warily fending off the freed hound, who danced about her trying to shove its head up her skirt. ‘Um, sorry.’ He dragged the dog off while the second oversized pooch tried to worm its way between his legs.
    ‘I’m not lost. I’m looking for Alaric Liddell. I’m supposed to pick up some keys,’ she said as she clicked the little purple light on and off. ‘Do you know where I can find him? I was told the fort.’
    The hard lines of his face softened into a tentative smile. He had pale grey-blue eyes, which made a sudden appraising sweep of her body. ‘Mrs North? I was told the buyer was a man.’
    ‘Oh no, I’m not married,’ Kara hastily explained, not wanting him to think she was off limits, considering the rather pleasant sexual frisson that zapped between them as he took in her windblown appearance. ‘He’s gay. My brother, I mean. I’m here on his behalf because he’s gone abroad. I’m Kara North.’ She stuck out a hand, which he declined in favour of grabbing both dogs by the collars and heaving them inside.
    ‘I’m Ric Liddell. Come on in and I’ll find you those keys.’ He grinned at her showing a few too many lovely white teeth. ‘I think they’re in the study. Toby. Horace.’ He pushed the dogs out of the way to allow her to enter unhindered, then stepped back so that she could walk ahead of him into the hall.
    ‘Thanks.’ Kara stepped warily over the threshold. Stranger-danger warnings pushed to the back of her mind in favour of the upswing in her lustometer. Ric Liddell was far too hot to be mouldering away on a fleabitten rock. She prayed he wasn’t gay and that Chris hadn’t sent her to a heterosexual woman’s idea of purgatory.
    ‘Have you come far?’
    ‘Not really. Although it’s taken a couple of hours because I had to wait for the tide.’ Kara turned to face him again only to be blessed with a glimpse of his back as he bolted the door. Strong shoulders gave way to a trim waist. His black jeans rode low over his hips, held in place by a studded belt, while a huge tattoo of an ankh, entwined within a coil of roses, decorated the length of his spine and shoulder blades.
    ‘Wow!’
    He turned his head to look at her, his eyebrows raised in question. Now in the light, with fewer shadows to mask his features, she realised he was slightly older than she’d first assumed, perhaps five or six years her senior. Not old, but no spring lamb either. Somehow that added to his appeal.
    ‘Your back … it’s – wow … It must have hurt.’
    He shrugged as if to suggest it was no big deal, and then took the lead again, his bare feet making a soft patter on the tiles as he crossed the hall and opened the door on to