Page 112 of Filthy Lovin Heroes

The snow had stopped falling and a ring of private cars and taxis waited along the circular driveway.

Jaime started down the steps with me, taking my arm lightly. Even cleared of snow and ice, the stairs were treacherous in my heels.

His cell phone rang. He paused. “I’m needed inside.”

“Thank you for the coat. Go, before you freeze.”

He pulled a wad of bills from his pocket. “Safe travels, my Lady.”

I stared down at his tips. I’d repay him once I got away from here. “Thank you.”

He hurried back up the steps.

Pulling the coat closer, I reached the curb, but the first two taxis I approached told me they’d been pre-arranged.

Great.

Nice escape. I’d made it all the way to the driveway. I was cold out here to stand around looking for a ride. And I didn’t want Malcolm to notice I was gone.

Just then, a black Range Rover pulled around the driveway. The passenger window unrolled. “Need a lift?” The man’s Scottish accent was thick. His cap was pulled low over his head. The inside of the car was dark, the interior lights weren’t working.

I didn’t hesitate. Beggars couldn’t be choosers on Christmas Eve.

“Yes, please!” I opened the back-passenger door and slipped inside. I sagged against the leather seat. I squeezed my eyes shut, lying my head against the headrest.

The vehicle moved down the drive, gaining speed. A few tears slipped down my cheeks, but I didn’t wipe them away. Lachlan lit with holiday decorations and covered in fresh snow was imprinted on my mind.

And Malcolm.

He’d be pissed when he discovered that I’d left. But he’d also see this was the right thing for us. I’d get back to New York and deal with the stalker. Maybe he’d moved on. If I could be so lucky.

Suddenly, taking my chances with a stalker seemed less risky than staying so close to Malcolm. If I’d let him have that conversation there would be no way I would refuse and then where would I be? Just a girl in a castle with a medical degree and no where to go. Castles were great, but I didn’t work this hard to be locked away in a castle.

I think. I didn’t know. And therein lay the problem.

The vehicle continued to gain speed as we left the estate.

I had a prickling sensation up my spine that wasn’t from pleasure.

I opened my eyes. I squinted in the dim light. Was the driver wearing the same plaid that Fergus wore—the Lachlan tartan?

I glanced around the car. This was the one Malcolm picked me up in.

“Excuse me, would you please slow down? It’s icy out.” My nails pricked my palms.

“Certainly.” The timber of his Scottish brogue sent shivers down my spine. The only voice that did that was Malcolm’s?—

Leaning forward, I peered at the man in the driver’s seat. His dark curly hair peaked out from under his hat and his profile was one I’d grown to love. A strong nose, thick lashes, and full lips.

But how could Malcolm be here?

“Malcolm.” My fingers dug into the seat in front of me. I leaned forward.

He pulled off his cap, and his lips twisted into a cruel grin as I got my first good look at his face. “Try again.”

I sucked in a sharp breath.

The light white scar under Malcolm’s eye was gone.

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