Page 89 of Princess of Pride
Is that why he didn’t text me back? “I hope everything is okay?” Do I really?
“I’m sure it will be. Lachlan is brilliant at finding solutions.”
“And what are you brilliant at?” I ask. “Everyone is great at something.”
This makes Rory give me an appreciative smile. “I’m good at keeping the peace.”
“I agree.” I bounce in the seat as we race down the hilly road.
“I’m also great at maths,” he says with the UKs, “code cracking, and stirring up trouble.”
“Definitely trouble. What kind of codes do you crack?”
“Cryptograms and anything else I can get my hands on.”
We hit a bigger hill that sends me off the seat and into the air. I squeal with laughter.
“Sorry. I’m used to this. I can slow down if you want.”
“No. I like it. So how far away is the distillery?” My phone hasn’t vibrated in my pocket. It would if Lachlan knew I’d left.
“Twenty more minutes.”
“So much land.” I watch it out the window, spotting clusters of sheep now and then. “This is so different from where I grew up.”
“Greenwich is quite different. But your family has a house on the ocean too, yeah?” he asks, drawing my gaze.
“Nantucket,” I say unable to hide my surprise. “How much do you know about me?”
“Only what Lachlan has told me.”
“Which is?” It might be uncool of me to press his brother for information, but I’m curious if my theory is right.
“He likes you, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“It wasn’t.” I turn my flaming face away. “And he doesn’t.”
“Do you know what Lachlan does when he doesn’t like a person?”
Murders them. I shake my head and stare at the narrow road out the front window.
“He doesn’t waste his time. He won’t be pleasant for the sake of being pleasant. He won’t even look your way. He analyzes then acts. You throw him off his guard—and his carefully orchestrated plan. It’s good for him. I think being knocked on his ass by you is just what he needs.”
All of this is said with a smile. He loves his brother, respects him. He also genuinely thinks Lachlan likes me. I’m not sure I agree.
Remnants of what looks like a medieval castle draw my gaze. It sits far back from the road. Two walls stand tall, the windows glassless. The rest of the structure is crumbled with a fair amount buried in the tall grass.
“He also said you were like a ray of sun, which I believe he meant physically. He’s not wrong.”
A ray of sun. The sun is yellow or gold.My golden princesshe called me. And here goes my heart again, melting like chocolate in a fondue pot. I can fight this. I have to.
We turn down a side road and arrive at an old stone building that could be a two-story house and a matching warehouse that looks kind of like a barn. Duhnill Distillery is in big letters at the roof line. Two red garage-sized doors are on either side of the arched entrance.
A few casually dressed men walk up the short road that connects the house-like building to the warehouse.
“Is this open to the public?” Fear creeps under my skin as flashbacks to the bathroom in the airport invade my mind.
A warm hand covers my fingers that are clenched together on my lap. “It’s all right, Emery. You’re safe. This place has been closed to the public for a while now.”
