Page 110 of Gift-Wrapped in a Kilt

"So you'll sit here slipping into a coma instead of trying to fight?" Iain smacked the letter down on Gavin's lap. "Bloody hell, you're giving up without even making sure this is legitimate. What happened to the man who overcame his fears and committed to a life with the woman he loves? Don't slide backward down the hill ye just climbed."

"I'm guilty. I did what they said, I worked for Aidan after telling the government I was here on vacation, visiting Jamie." Gavin stared at the wall without seeing it, without seeing anything. "I didn't know it mattered. That's no excuse, though. I screwed this up."

"No, you didn't." Iain hissed out a breath. "Someone reported you. Nothing else explains this."

"Doesn't matter."

Iain watched Gavin for a moment, then jumped up and retrieved a glass of whisky from the liquor cabinet against the wall. He sat down again and thrust the drink at Gavin.

"Drink," he said. "Gain a bit of liquid clarity."

"Getting drunk won't make things clearer." Though he spoke those words, Gavin accepted the glass and downed the contents in one gulp. The whisky burned in his throat, scouring away the shock second by second. Would he lie here in a lump and accept his fate without fighting?

Hell no.

Someone reported him. Iain had to be right about that. Who?

The shit hit the fan three days after he won acceptance from Rory and became a MacTaggart. Three days after he proved to himself he was no wuss anymore. Three days after he bested Trevor Langley in a round of hurl-the-haggis.

Of course.

Gavin sat forward and slapped the whisky glass down on the coffee table. "It was Trevor. He did this. The bastard likes to brag about his family's connections, and he was super pissed when I beat him at haggis hurling. He wanted to punish Jamie by shaming me and getting Rory to denounce me. It didn't work, so he found another way to wreck everything for her — and for me."

"Talk to Rory." Iain got up and waved for Gavin to do the same. "Don't sit there stewing about it. Get off your erse and go see your solicitor."

Gavin heaved himself up off his ass and heeded Iain's advice.

An hour later, he sat across the massive desk from Rory in the library office of Dùndubhan.

Rory held the letter in one hand while rubbing his chin with the thumb and forefinger of his other hand. He contemplated the words on the page for several minutes before speaking.

"You don't want to allow them to deport you," he said at last, placing the letter on the desktop. "If they do, you'll be banned from the UK for ten years."

"How do I avoid that?"

"There is a process, but whoever wrote this letter has made a mockery of the rules." Rory tapped a finger on the letter. "You've been given a deadline to provide evidence of why you shouldn't be subject to administrative removal, but the deadline was yesterday. The letter is dated the day before, but naturally, you didn't receive it until today. And the letter states no appeal will be allowed."

"I noticed. Is that legal?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Rory tapped the letter again. "The only recourse you have at this time is to leave the country voluntarily. Doing so will prevent deportation and the ten-year ban on returning. You'll be allowed to come back in one year."

"A year?" Gavin gripped the arms of his chair as his head started to wobble. No, it wasn't actually wobbling. Only felt like it was. "I can't come back for a year. That's… Could Jamie visit me in America?"

"Yes." With one finger, Rory spun the letter on the desktop. "It won't come to that, though. I will find out who orchestrated this and how."

"It was Trevor, had to be."

Rory sighed, his focus on the paper. "I agree, but we need proof. I suspect he circumvented the system, possibly by illegal means, but proving it could be difficult."

"You're saying I'm screwed every which way."

"No, I'm saying it will take time. I have an investigator I trust, one who works out of London. We will uncover the truth of this and get you reinstated in the UK with a family visa." Rory slanted forward, elbows on the desktop, his expression sternly determined. "You have my word on that."

"I appreciate it." Gavin took a long, slow breath and let it out bit by bit. "How long will I have to stay in America?"

"Hard to say. I'll do whatever it takes to ensure this matter is resolved as swiftly as possible." Rory pushed away from the desk, his chair wheeling backward. "In the meantime, you need to return to America."

That was how, the next day, Gavin wound up standing on the tarmac at the Inverness airport with Rory's Gulfstream jet behind him and Jamie in front of him. Saying goodbye to her made his gut twist and his eyes burn, but he had to believe he'd come back soon. One English asshole couldn't derail their life together. What kind of happy ending would that be?

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