Fiancé.

“So when did you get engaged?” I asked when they got into the vehicle.

“I just proposed,” Lachlan replied.

That made me feel somewhat better. I’d thought maybe she’d told Mom and Dad that she didn’t want me to know just yet. And the thought of her keeping something so huge from me hurt.

Which was completely hypocritical since I’d been keeping stuff from her for over a year.

Still. Robyn was getting married.

And to Lachlan Adair, of all people.

Knowing how much Robyn used to resent Lachlan—considering she’d thought he was complicit in Mac’s abandonment of her—it was a shock when our parents told me she was in a relationship with him and staying in Scotland.

She and I were the estranged ones now.

How life had flipped, huh?

“Who are you?”

I startled.

Following the young, high-toned voice, I turned to my right.

Lachlan’s yard and his neighbor’s weren’t separated by a fence. I’d thought it odd. His beautiful, contemporary, clearly architect-designed house was perched over the water in a little place Lachlan called Caelmore, just outside the village of Ardnoch.

Needing a breather, not wanting my sister to see past my devil-may-care attitude, I’d abandoned my luggage in the luxurious guest room Lachlan had shown me to, kicked off my shoes, and strode out via the wall-to-wall bifold doors at the back of the open-plan living space. They led onto a deck with steps that took me to grass that stretched onward to the cliff’s edge.

A security fence sat along the cliff’s edge. Staring at the two small children who gawked at me in curiosity, I guessed the fence was for their safety. They both had dark hair and wore the same light blue sweaters with an embroidered logo on the chest. The girl wore a blue-and-black-plaid skirt, while the boy wore black pants. School uniforms.

“Hey.” I grinned as I walked toward them. “I’m Regan.”

The little boy stood straighter, puffing out his chest as he grabbed onto the smaller girl’s hand. “We’re not supposed to talk to strangers.” He spoke in a lovely, anglicized accent, his Scottish brogue pushing through here and there, particularly prominent in his hard t’s.

I nodded, trying not to laugh. “That’s a good rule. But you asked me a question first.”

The boy looked down at the girl in irritation. “That was Eilidh’s fault.” He pronounced her name Ay-Lay. “You know better, Eilidh.”

Eilidh wasn’t paying attention. She was staring at my feet. “Where are your shoes?”

I curled my toes into the cool grass and gestured to the house. “I left them inside.”

The boy frowned. “You know Uncle Lachlan and Aunt Robyn?”

It was a gut punch.

“Aunt Robyn?” I whispered.

The boy nodded. “She’s going to be Uncle Lachlan’s wife, so we’re allowed to call her Aunt Robyn now.”

Tightness crawled across my chest. “You live next door?”

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I’m not sure I should answer that. You’re still a stranger.”

If I wasn’t currently suffering from debilitating jealousy and hurt that my sister had gone and created a whole new life that didn’t involve me, I might have laughed.

“Eilidh, Lewis,” a deep, masculine voice called, drawing our attention. A tall man with broad shoulders and an unkempt appearance strode toward us. His eyes were on me as he stopped behind the children, his hands protectively on their shoulders. “Who do we have here?”

I strode forward and his gaze lowered down my legs to my bare feet. I could have sworn his lips twitched, but it was hard to tell because a thick brown beard surrounded his mouth.

“Hey.” I held out my hand to him. “I’m Regan Penhaligon.”

His blue-gray eyes narrowed slightly, and then his hand was in mine. He gave me a strong, firm shake, and I felt the rasp of the calluses on his palm as he released me. “You’re Robyn’s sister.”

“Yeah.” And you are?

“I’m Lachlan’s brother, Thane. These are my children, Eilidh and Lewis. We live next door. Robyn didn’t say you were coming.”

I smiled, shrugging my shoulders and replying breezily, “I surprised her.”

His eyes turned a cool blue. “I see.”

And I got the impression he did see.

Shame made my skin hot.

I wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t just Robyn who was acting weird and cold with me. Mac and Lachlan had been equally cool. I knew I deserved it, but it was still horrible. Obviously, Robyn had told Lachlan and Mac I’d flaked on her, and it seemed Lachlan had spread the word to his family members.

“Yeah. Isn’t it great?” I grinned falsely. “I’ve never been to Scotland before. Fantastic houses, by the way.”

“Dad designed them,” Lewis piped up. “He’s an archi … architect, and I’m going to be one too.”

Wow.

I stared at Thane, seeing him in a new light. Honestly, he gave off a kind of lumberjack vibe. Thick, sandy-blond hair, a beard that was more brown than blond and in desperate need of a trim, and not exactly country-chic attire. His cable-knit sweater had seen better days, his jeans were so faded it was a wonder they weren’t falling apart, and he wore a pair of muddy hiking boots.

His appearance did not say extraordinarily talented architect.

Then again, I should know all about not judging a book by its cover.

“That’s amazing,” I said, genuine. “Really, the houses are beautiful.” The two plots were almost identical except each had a second, differently sized building made of the same materials. The one on Thane’s plot was a little larger, like a guest house.

Uncertainty glimmered in his eyes. “Thank you.”

“Daddy, can I take off my shoes too?” Eilidh suddenly asked.

I smiled. “It feels pretty nice.”

“You’ll catch a cold.” Thane shook his head. “Anyway, it’s teatime.” He turned his son and daughter toward the house.

I was curious about their mom, my eyes moving to their home, wondering if she was inside waiting for them.

“Thane!” Lachlan’s voice carried loudly across the yards.

“Uncle Lachlan!” Eilidh shot past me like a little bullet.

I turned to watch Lachlan hurry down the steps of the decking to catch his niece in his arms. The wind stole their exchange from my ears. But whatever was said, it made Eilidh erupt into infectious giggles as he settled her on his hip and walked toward us. He grinned and suddenly I saw an image of him from a movie, wearing that same boyish, wicked smile. Not only was I again reminded that my sister’s fiancé was famous, but seeing him interact with his niece took him up a few million notches on the hotness scale.

“You’ve met Regan, then?” he asked Thane.

The brothers stood next to each other, and I saw the resemblance. Lachlan was a few inches taller than Thane, his eyes a little bluer, but they both shared the same rugged, Scandinavian handsomeness that made me wonder if there wasn’t a little Viking mixed up in their Scottish blood.

They exchanged a wordless conversation, but I was more perceptive than people thought. They weren’t happy with my arrival. I could see it in Lachlan’s clenched jaw and Thane’s suspicious expression.