Realizing she wasn’t going to return my embrace, my heart crumpled and I pulled away. But then she made an aggravated sound in the back of her throat seconds before her arms closed around me.

Tears stung my nose as I pressed my cheek to her shoulder and clung to her. She held me so tight I could barely breathe, but I didn’t care.

“I could kill you,” she whispered hoarsely.

Hearing the pain in her voice, my eyes flew open and caught in Lachlan’s cool, azure gaze. His eyes narrowed, his expression softening from hard to thoughtful at whatever he saw on my face. Disconcerted, I pulled out of Robyn’s embrace and slapped her arm playfully. “But what a dull place the world would be if you did.”

My sister studied me with those penetrating, ever-changing eyes of hers. I’d always been jealous of the eyes she’d inherited from Mac. While we shared the same large, oval shape, Robyn’s were technically hazel, but they changed color depending on her mood or the surrounding colors. Mine were an ordinary chestnut brown.

“Eh, hate ta interrupt, but the meter is still tickin’, ya ken,” the cab driver called behind me.

“Pardon?” I wrinkled my nose in confusion.

“The. Meter. Is. Tickin’. Ya. Ken,” he repeated like I was deaf.

To be fair, saying it slower and louder meant I picked up the word meter and deduced what he was saying from that. “Damn. Okay.” I flicked Robyn a look. “Let me just pay this guy.” I lowered my voice. “He’s been talking about some random guy called Ken the entire ride up here like I’m supposed to know who that is.”

Mirth suddenly brightened Robyn’s eyes, and she made a choking sound.

“What?”

She swallowed another snort of laughter and replied, her voice trembling with amusement. “He’s saying ‘you know.’ ‘Ken’ means ‘know’ in Scots.”

I laughed loudly at my mistake, and we shared a grin.

Then something like mistrust entered my sister’s expression, and the light moment dissipated as quickly as it happened.

“Jock will take care of your fare.” Lachlan approached and nodded beyond me. I turned to see Sarge (a.k.a. Jock) leaning in to pay the driver; a guy dressed in a modern version of livery retrieved my suitcase from the trunk. This place really was like Downton Abbey, or at least one of the estates described in my beloved racy historical romances.

“My purse is on the back seat,” I said, but the guy was already pulling it out of the cab for me. “Thank you!” I waved at the driver, who gave me a big smile.

“So,” Robyn said, “you could have just returned my phone calls. You didn’t need to come all the way to Scotland.”

“Of course, I did. I wanted to make sure you were okay. And to see what the allure was.” I covered my hurt at her defection from Boston. Did she even think about me when she decided to move to an entirely different continent?

I winced at my selfishness. Robyn didn’t owe me anything.

Lachlan, whose face I’d seen a million times in film, was obviously a pivotal part of the appeal. A good few inches over six feet tall, broad shouldered, clothes that showcased the body of an action star, sandy-blond hair, unshaven cheeks, and rugged features. The man was a blaze.

Then my eyes met Uncle Mac’s.

I tensed.

He was … not at all what I’d expected. Younger looking than I’d anticipated. But then, he was only in his mid-forties. Even then, he didn’t look his age. The same height as Lachlan, Mac was just as broad shouldered, possibly even more muscular in his tight black T-shirt that showed off all that power. His dark hair was speckled with salt and pepper, and he wore it longish so it curled around his nape. Also like Lachlan, he had that designer stubble thing going on.

He was a dead ringer for that guy out of True Blood and Magic Mike, and he didn’t look any older than Lachlan.

I couldn’t call him Uncle Mac anymore. It was too weird. “Jesus, Mac, it’s been an age and yet you’ve stopped aging, apparently.” I eyed him thoughtfully. “I suppose if Robyn forgives you, I guess I should, huh?”

Mac studied me. “It’s been a long time, Regan. We’ve been worried about you.”

My smile strained. “Worried about moi? Why ever for? I’m fabulous.” I spun on my heels and gestured up to the castle. “And clearly so is Robyn.” I glanced over my shoulder at my sister. “A boyfriend with a castle. Nice.”

“Fiancé,” Robyn corrected, lifting her left hand.

A diamond winked blindingly in the sunlight.

It knocked the breath right out of me.

Robyn was engaged.

She was marrying Lachlan Adair.

My sister was engaged and I hadn’t known about it?

She was never coming back to Boston.

I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to tell Lachlan to go screw himself. Why couldn’t he have married one of the millions of other women who must have thrown themselves at him over the years?

But I knew why.

There was no one like Robyn.

She was special.

And the bastard had snapped her up and stolen her away.

Lachlan’s gaze was sharp, probing. Quickly banking my ire toward him, I shrugged and threw my hands in the air, my voice a little too high-pitched as I cried, “Well, this calls for champagne!”

My sister had been wrong when she talked me out of running away to New York to become a thespian. I’d have made a damn good actor.

Instead of champagne, Robyn and Lachlan bundled me into another Range Rover with my luggage and informed me I’d be staying with them at Lachlan’s home. This unwelcome news had concerned me, but I’d covered it, pretending not to be perturbed. I’d stupidly assumed that Lachlan’s home was on Ardnoch Estate.

Under heavy security.

It wasn’t.

They didn’t even provide me with a tour of the place before they escorted me off the damn grounds.

Standing at the edge of Lachlan Adair’s backyard—a grassy cliff that jutted over the sea—I experienced an emotion that shamed me.

Jealousy.

A bracing, cool evening wind pushed at my body, whipping dangerously at the short hemline of my dress. I didn’t care. Who was here to see me flash them? My sister’s fiancé’s home felt like it was on the edge of nowhere. If it weren’t for the identical house next door, it would feel like I was on some alien, lonesome part of the planet.

My sister’s fiancé.

That painful lump in my throat returned.

Fighting back tears that made me feel small and childish, I couldn’t rid myself of the image of Robyn cuddling Lachlan as I sat in the back of the SUV waiting. He’d bent his forehead to hers, murmuring something. It was clear he was asking if she was okay.

I didn’t know what she’d replied, but I could guess it wasn’t good. They’d shared a lingering kiss filled with so much emotion I had to look away. It seemed intrusive to watch.

Never mind the surreal surroundings I found myself in; what was discombobulating was seeing Robyn with Lachlan. I’d never seen her so into a guy before. Like … staring at him as if he were her universe, and vice versa.

I pushed down my envy.

Not because she’d found that—I wanted that for Robyn. I wanted her to have the most fulfilled, amazing life anyone could ever wish for. Yet in finding it, I was losing her even more than I already had.