Page 6 of Wild Scottish Fortune

“That’s it? You came barreling out of here like the devil himself was chasing you and that’s all you can say?” Orla arched a brow at me.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Och, not gonna fly, lad. Give it up.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m fine,” I promised. It was true enough. I was already embarrassed about how she’d seen me, in a sheer panic, on top of the fact that I’d insulted her the other day. Last thing I needed to do was make her think I was delusional too.

“Och, is that the way of it then?” Orla’s temper peaked. “You look like you’ve been chased by a banshee, not a drop of color in your face and hands so cold they’re like ice. Yet you say it’s fine. Right, then. That’s just grand, isn’t it? Nothing to see here? Is that right?”

“I’m sorry I was rude to you the other day.” I neatly changed the subject, walking backward away from the cottage, hoping to draw her with me. Orla’s eyes narrowed, seeming to understand what I was doing, and after one lingering glance back at the front door, she fell in step beside me, the dogs racing in front of us back toward the castle.

“Don’t bother yourself. I’m used to it,” Orla said, hands in her pockets as we wandered back to the job site.

“Still. Doesn’t mean I should have assumed your role on-site. I’m sorry for it and I’ll work on being better.”

“Well, now. That’s refreshing.” Orla’s grin was like thesun splitting the clouds. “Didn’t take you for one to humble yourself.”

“I have my moments.”

“Aye, I see that. Or maybe whatever happened in that cottage scared you enough to be apologizing.”

“No, I wanted to apologize before then.”

“Will you tell me what happened?”

“Tell me what the workers say.”

“They say the place is haunted.” Someone called Orla’s name, drawing her attention away, and she stood before me, torn between our conversation and the job.

“It might well be.” There, that was all I was going to say about it. The last thing I needed to do was relive the harrowing experience that still made my gut churn.

“If that’s the case, I’ll invite you to stay away from it, Mr. Thompson. I’ll sort it out soon enough.”

“Wait, what? That’s not your job—” I made to grab her arm as she turned to walk away but then stopped, reminding myself that I’d already touched her without her permission once today.

“It’s my site. Which means it’s my problem. Good day, Mr. Thompson.” With that, Orla returned to her workers, and I was left wondering when I’d gone from Finlay to Mr. Thompson to her. Turning, I glanced back at the cold and foreboding cottage, and now I had a new thing to worry about.

How was I going to keep Orla Clarke away from that cottage?

CHAPTER THREE

Orla

The day flew by with one problem after another, keeping me away from investigating the outbuilding on my own. I had to hand it to Finlay though. Despite looking like he’d had his arse handed to him in a fight, he shouldered on through the challenges of the day, never showing that he’d been given the fright of his life. Or at least that was how it had seemed to me. The man’s face had been devoid of color, and sweat had dripped from his brow. I knew a panic response when I saw one, and I was just grateful I’d been there with the dogs to help calm him down.

Stretching my arms over my head, I rotated my chin, trying to work out the kinks in my neck. My crew had left the site for the day, but I had just wanted to finish sanding a strip of the floor in the side room that we planned toconvert to storage. I was hoping the wood would be strong enough to not have to replace, but I needed to sand it and test it for weakness before we could start a buildout in that room.

“Sore neck?”

I jumped, my hand dropping to the back of my neck as I turned to find Finlay at the door.

“Goes with the territory.” I shrugged, studying his face for signs of wariness about what had transpired earlier that day. Finding nothing, his façade firmly back in place, I took a breath and tried not to be annoyed about being interrupted. “You’re here late.”

“I could say the same for you.” A corner of his mouth quirked up when I rolled my eyes.

“Do you always do that?”

“Define that.”

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