Hurrying toward the door, he heard Fergus of all people reply, “Sorry, Ms. Wainwright.”
Lachlan stepped through the doorway to see Lucy skirting the mechanic. She glared at him and threw an exasperated look at Lachlan before she strode away toward the main staircase.
“Fergus?” The mechanic rarely came into the main rooms of the castle. “Problem?”
“Computer issue with one of the Rovers, Mr. Adair.”
“Fergus, you can call me Lachlan when it’s just the two of us,” he reminded him. For God’s sake, he’d grown up with the man.
“Right.” Fergus grinned, but it was a preoccupied smile.
“Computer problem?” Lachlan prompted.
“Yes. It’ll need to go in, I’m afraid. Wanted to check with you first.”
The manufacturer always charged a fortune, but if Fergus couldn’t fix the issue, then there was nothing else for it. “Book it.”
“Lachlan.” Fergus tipped an invisible hat to him, a quirk he’d picked up from someone when he was a wee boy, and then sauntered in Lucy’s wake toward the exit.
That restlessness made itself known as soon as he was alone again.
A walk.
A walk along the beach would do him good.
The castle was in order. If he was needed, they’d call his mobile.
And if he stayed there any longer, he would give in to the urge to track down Robyn.
Lachlan had to prove to himself that he could stay away from her. In fact, he wouldn’t go to her tonight.
He dared himself not to.
Reaching for the phone on his bedside table for the millionth time, Lachlan tapped the screen and the clock lit up.
Three fifteen in the morning.
Sticking to his guns, he’d denied himself Robyn. Ate dinner with Arrochar at her place, stayed late into the night, and returned to the castle at midnight. If he was being honest, he’d hovered outside her door for a good five minutes before calling himself a weak-willed prick and then stormed into his room.
A grown man reduced to an addicted teenager by a woman a decade younger.
But what a woman she was. Lachlan groaned as he imagined from memory Robyn before him on her hands and knees. Never just receiving what he had to give but taking it, demanding it, bucking back into his thrusts with a savage, greedy lust. Just the memory of it made him painfully hard.
“Fuck,” he muttered, throwing the covers off the bed. He sat up, running a hand through his hair, feeling his willpower ebb.
She was mere feet away, across the hall. His if he wanted.
Why the devil was he denying himself?
Rat-a-tat-tat.
Lachlan looked up at the sound of the knock on his door.
Robyn?
He leaned over to switch on a bedside lamp and then strode across the room to unlock the door. To his disappointment, no one was there.
What?
He popped his head out the doorway and looked to the right. The double doors at the end of the hall moved slightly, as if someone had just disappeared through them. An uneasiness settled over him as he finally saw the trail of red rose petals along the corridor floor.
“What the …?” he murmured, retreating with the intention of putting on some clothes to investigate. White flashed against the oak door on his peripheral, and Lachlan jerked back from it to see a printed note pinned to his door.
His disquiet grew as he read it.
Your love is cold. Mine is colder.
Lachlan cursed under his breath and hurried across the hall to check Robyn’s door. It was locked. Good.
He glanced down the corridor at the trail of petals. It was a clear sign that he was to follow it. And wherever it led, he didn’t want Robyn near.
Rushing back into his bedroom, he threw on clothes and called down to security for backup. Within minutes, he heard the knock at the door and found Pete standing outside with Kyle, Xander, and Eccleston. “You were fast.”
Pete wrenched his gaze from the note on the door, his expression grim. “Trail of petals leads all the way downstairs. We haven’t followed it yet. We wanted to make sure you were secure first.”
“Let’s check it out.” Lachlan closed his bedroom door behind him. “How did they get past the cameras?”
“Distraction.” Pete looked pissed. “Sorry, sir. There was a disturbance at the front gate, and we were all focused on that.”
“Disturbance?”
“Someone broke the cameras. McHugh went out to check them, but we haven’t heard back from him yet. The rest of us were checking the perimeter of the castle when you called.”
“Shit.” They picked up the pace, following the petals without speaking so they didn’t wake up the members. The trail led all the way downstairs and into the staff wing.
“The kitchen?” Pete deduced.
Sure enough, as soon as they walked into the kitchen, Lachlan halted abruptly.
The bright lights overhead flooded the kitchen so there was no missing the large pool of blood around the body of security guard Greg McHugh.
Pete rushed to the body as Lachlan froze in utter shock. “Secure Mr. Adair!” he barked at his men, and he felt the security guards surround him, guns out.
“No, no.” Lachlan came out of his horrified daze as he watched Pete check McHugh for a pulse. “Is he …?”
Pete looked up in furious grief. “He’s dead.”
His gut roiled with nausea. Forcing it down, he ordered, “Check the cameras.”
“Not until you’re secure.” Pete stood, frowning as he spotted the trail of petals when Lachlan did.
They curved around toward the back of the kitchen where the commercial walk-in freezer was.
Your love is cold. Mine is colder.
“Oh my God.” Lachlan was gripped with terror as he understood. “Robyn. ROBYN!” he roared, pushing his men off him and dodging Pete as he raced past his fallen security guard toward the freezer.
The handle was up.
It was closed.
“ROBYN!” He was sure she was in there. His fingers fumbled with the handle in his panic until another hand joined his. Pete.
Together they pulled, and the door opened with a breathy suction.
He saw her hand first as the freezer swung open, and his knees threatened to buckle.
Then she was revealed.
Her red hair covered her face.
“Lucy?” Renewed shock made him hesitate just a second. It wasn’t Robyn. “Fuck, Lucy.” He hurried into the freezer with Pete and together they lifted her cold, strangely heavy body out of the walk-in.
Laying her gently on the floor, he noted her worryingly blue lips and deathly stillness. Pete rested his fingers on her neck and sagged with relief. “Call an ambulance!” he yelled at his men. “She’s still alive.”
28
Robyn
It seemed like a nightmare, finding myself at the hospital for the second time since arriving in Scotland. Lucy’s private bodyguards stood like towering human shields in front of her hospital room, and there was a buzz about the place that not even Adair incited.
Hollywood actor Lucy Wainwright was almost killed by a masked assailant.
The same man who murdered one of Lachlan’s security guards.