“This is private property. I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the man behind the gate said in a softer Scottish brogue that I could actually understand.

“I don’t think so, handsome.” I grinned, wrapping a hand around a bar of the gate. “I’m here to see my sister.”

His expression (what I could see of it behind the glasses) didn’t change. “And who might that be?”

“Your boss’s babe.”

“Elaborate.”

Despite my nervousness, my smile was genuine. This guy was a hoot. “I’m Regan Penhaligon. Robyn’s sister.”

I thought I detected a slight change in his demeanor, but I wasn’t sure. “Do you have identification?”

“Uh, I have my passport.”

“I’ll need to see it.”

“Wow, you guys really do take your security seriously, huh?” Works for me, I thought, as I wandered back to the cab and pulled open the back passenger door.

“Everythin’ awright?” the cabbie asked as I rifled through my large purse for my passport.

“Terminator over there just wants identification.”

The cabbie chuckled as I found the passport.

I wanted to race across the gravel driveway. Now that I was this close to seeing my sister, I wanted it over with. I needed to know if she hated me or if we could get past this. However, my pride forced me to act cool and casual as I walked to the gate.

“Here you go.” I passed the passport through the decorative bars.

Security Guy took it and flipped it open. After a quick scan, he said, “One moment, please.”

Pressed against the gate, I watched as he stalked to his SUV, leaned in, and spoke in an inaudible murmur, to whom I didn’t know. But seconds later, he returned. “I’ll need you and the driver to hand over any recording devices—mobile phone, cameras, etc.”

“Are you serious?”

His answer was a stony nothing.

He was serious.

With a sigh, I handed over my cell and then went to tell the cabbie the news. My driver seemed completely unperturbed about handing over his phone.

“You’re not annoyed?” I asked quietly through his window.

“Och, no. They could have just had ye switch vehicles. This means I’m driving ye in. Not many folks get ta drive onta Ardnoch Estate. Wait till ma wife hears aboot this.”

“Okay, great!”

Glad he was chipper about the whole thing, I took his phone to Security Guy, who confiscated it and instructed, “Tell your driver the gates will open momentarily. He will follow my vehicle and not deviate. We’ll escort him back to the gate once we’ve delivered you to your sister and he’ll get his phone back then.”

His militant attitude amused me so much it almost distracted me from Robyn. “Okay, Sarge.” I returned to the cab. After I got in, I relayed the info and we waited. First the Range Rover did a tight U-turn, and then the gates opened.

Those anxious butterflies came back with a vengeance while my cabbie hooted, “My Carolann will no’ believe this. Pity they took ma phone. Wid have loved some pictures.”

I couldn’t answer.

I pressed my forehead to the window as the cab drove slowly up a gravel drive through thick woodlands. Sunbeams cut through the trees, casting rays across the vehicles’ path. And it seemed awhile before we were driving out of them into bright sunshine that illuminated manicured lawns. Miles of them. Flat near the building in the distance, but increasingly rolling farther away. Little flags on the distant lawns suggested it was a golf course.

The gravel drive led toward the immense building up ahead.

Not just any building.

A castle.

My sister’s boyfriend owned a freaking castle.

With turrets and everything.

“Holy shit,” I whispered as we drew nearer. The castle was six stories tall and who knew how old. It was like Downton Abbey, but bigger. The thought of Downton Abbey reminded me of bingeing the show with Robyn. An ache flared in my chest, along with another flurry of nerves in my belly. Eyeing the parapets and the St. Andrew’s Cross flag that fluttered in the breeze, I took in a deep breath.

It was then I spotted the people standing outside the majestic building awaiting our arrival.

Waiting for me.

The cab pulled up, and I focused on no one but my sister.

Robyn.

She stood huddled into a man’s side, her eyes on my cab. Dressed in workout gear, little makeup, and hair scraped back into a ponytail.

And she’d never looked more beautiful.

Memories flooded me and I wanted to launch myself out of the vehicle and into her arms and have her take care of everything.

Yet I knew it couldn’t be that way anymore.

Instead, I forced a smile, threw open the passenger door, and stepped out. Hand to my hip, I cocked it, pushing my grin so my dimples appeared. “Hey, sis.” I winked at her. “Did you miss me?”

2

Regan

The way Robyn stared blankly at me, I realized I’d made a fundamental error in my greeting.

I knew my sister better than I knew anyone.

Hurt hid behind her obvious anger.

Ignoring the two men at her side, my smile faltered, and I stepped toward her.

“I missed you,” I confessed.

Robyn pulled out of the very recognizable Lachlan Adair’s embrace and crossed her arms defensively as she neared me. “Funny, it hasn’t seemed that way for the past eighteen months. Not after I got shot, not after Dad got stabbed, or after Lucy Wainwright tried to murder Lachlan and me.”

Holding back a flinch, I swallowed hard. My sister was a cop who got shot in the line of duty. That moment was the beginning of my life spiraling out of control. Robyn quit, opened a photography business, and around a year after she was shot, she traveled to Scotland to find some closure with her father, Mac Galbraith. Mom and Dad said her relationship with Mac was in a good place, despite Robyn falling in love with his boss and best friend Lachlan Adair.

As for Lucy Wainwright, she was an Oscar-winning actor who had been a member of the club and a good friend of Lachlan’s. However, according to my mom’s retelling, she wanted more than friendship from him and when she couldn’t have it, she started leaving threatening messages around the estate. Things escalated when the estate mechanic joined her in the misdeeds. The mechanic stabbed Mac, attacked Robyn, ran her off the road, and then helped Lucy kidnap Lachlan. Robyn was the one who found Lachlan, and with help from a local farmer, they both escaped unscathed. The mechanic didn’t. Lucy killed him right before she tried to kill my sister. Now the actor was facing trial, which meant my sister was also facing said trial as a witness.

There was no excuse for my absence from Robyn’s life through all that.

Not a good one, anyway.

Robyn was the brave one. I was the coward.

“I’m here now.” I put my arms around her and squeezed.

Closing my eyes against the burn of tears, I realized my sister had changed her perfume. For years, she’d worn the same scent. I’d even bought her a bottle at the airport. But she smelled different.

And she felt different.

She was hard and unyielding in my arms.

Once upon a time, there was nothing better than a Robyn hug.