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he was mid-chew. ‘Sometimes it feels as if there are just too many people about. I mean, I know it’s a big place—it’s a castle, for goodness’ sake. And I can always lock myself away in my room. But it’s weird—sometimes I feel I just need a little space. A little time out.’

He nodded. ‘I get it. I do. And I get agitated every time I see a measuring tape.’

She burst out laughing. ‘I know. They were doing it again last night as I was going to bed. What is the obsession with that and taking pictures with their phone?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m trying hard not to think about it. I’m sure if I go online I’ll probably see half the furniture and antiques in this castle listed for sale.’

She was horrified. ‘Callan? Do you really think that?’

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘What other reason is there? I take it they’re sending the pictures to someone to get things valued first.’

She shook her head. ‘That’s horrible.’

‘That’s life.’

He said the words so simply. As if he was finally trying to accept the fact that in the next few days Annick Castle would have a new owner. She couldn’t imagine how he must be feeling. If people came into her home and started doing things like that—well, she couldn’t be held responsible for her actions.

Their eyes met and there it was again. That connection she felt every time she was around him. Her breath hitched in her throat. She didn’t want to drag her eyes away from his. What she really wanted was to get to the bottom of what was happening here.

They hadn’t discussed it. They hadn’t acknowledged it. Surely this wasn’t just in her head?

Callan looked away and she took a steadying breath, bringing herself back to reality. She had to think about normal things. Things that weren’t Callan McGregor.

Focus. She took a sip of her tea and looked around the room. That bacon roll had really hit the mark. ‘I still don’t get it. How did Angus McLean manage to have so many children that no one knew about?’ She stood up and started walking around the room.

There were a few pictures of Angus in here. One with him in his army uniform in World War II. Another with him looking a little older and standing in front of the sign for Ellis Island in New York.

Callan walked over next to her. ‘I’ve been trying to figure it out—believe me.’ He pointed to the picture of Angus in his uniform. ‘I’ve worked out that Angus was stationed in a few places throughout World War II. He was down in England for a time, then over in Canada just after the war. I think that accounts for two—or maybe even three of his children.’

‘What about this one—the New York picture?’

He nodded. ‘He was apparently sent there after the war to negotiate deals for the pharmaceutical company.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘That would be another child.’

‘Wow. The guy certainly got about.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘What about my Irish relatives, then? Did he go to Ireland?’

Callan shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. But Mary said her mother was originally from Scotland and moved over to Ireland as a young woman.’

‘A young woman with a baby on board?’

Callan shrugged. ‘It’s just as much a mystery to me as it is to you, Laurie.’

She couldn’t help it. Talking about Angus McLean just made her frustrated. ‘But how? How could he have six children and not bother with them?’

Callan slumped down into the chaise longue and put his head in his hands. She was staring out at the gardens thinking what a beautiful environment this would have been to be raised as a child. ‘I’ve got some boxes of paperwork—old things, to go through. Maybe I’ll find something there that will shed some light on all of this.’

‘Should you be doing that?’ Her lawyer head was instantly slotting into place. Callan wasn’t related to Angus.

He looked up at her. His brow was wrinkled again and the green of his eyes seemed to make her want to step closer. He ran his fingers through his dark hair. ‘That’s just it, Laurie. I might not be family, but I was named as Angus’s next of kin. So, until all this is sorted, I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to sort things out. At least that’s what Frank tells me.’

‘Wow.’ She sat down next to him and automatically put her hand on his leg. It was meant to be friendly. It was meant to be reassuring—or supportive. But it was none of those things.

It was her fine fingers feeling his thick, muscular thighs. How did a guy with a desk job get thighs like that? And what did they look like when he wasn’t fully dressed?

The wayward thoughts made her blush and her instant reaction was to pull her hand away. But Callan stopped that. He put his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze.

She could swear that right now a thousand butterflies were fluttering over the skin on her hand. She couldn’t stop staring at him. Even though she wanted to.

She must look like some star-struck teenager, hardly appealing.

‘Didn’t you know he’d named you as his next of kin?’ Great. Her voice had turned into an unintelligible squeak.

He shook his head. ‘Maybe I should have guessed. As far as I knew, Angus didn’t really have anyone else to name as next of kin. But we’d never talked about it. I found out as he became really unwell. Frank told me.’

‘But he didn’t tell you the rest?’

Callan raised his eyebrows. ‘That he had six mystery children? Oh, no. Frank didn’t mention that.’

‘Have you asked him about it?’

‘That’s just it. I’m not entirely sure how much Frank knows. He said he’s checked back and Angus’s family have dealt with Ferguson and Dalglish solicitors for years. As far as he can see, Angus was contacted at various points in his life and made payments.’

‘What kind of payments?’

‘I guess it must have been some sort of child support. All of this happened before I was even born.’

Laurie shook her head. ‘Isn’t there anyone else you can ask?’

He lifted one hand and held it up. ‘Like who? Angus was ninety-seven. All his friends and acquaintances are long since gone.’

It made sense. Whether she liked it or not.

But here was the thing. She wasn’t really concentrating on why Angus McLean had only acknowledged his children financially. She was far too interested in the fact that their fingers were still intertwined on his thigh. Her ability to concentrate on anything else was fading fast.

Laurie pointed at one of the photos. Anything to try and keep herself distracted. ‘I have to say, I can’t really see any family resemblance between Angus and my dad. I can definitely see a resemblance with some of the other relatives. I notice lots of subtle similarities between Mary from Ireland and my dad. They’re half-siblings. It’s only natural. But it just feels really strange. It’s almost like having a little part of him back.’

Her eyes instantly filled with tears. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. She didn’t want to get emotional in front of Callan.

But Callan didn’t hesitate. He stood up in front of her and pulled her up, enveloping her in his arms.

She’d never been the kind of girl to act like a shrinking violet. She’d never been the kind of girl that needed rescuing by some dashing guy.

But just that act of kindness—that feeling of someone putting their arms around her—made her breath hitch in her throat. How long had it been since this had happened?

It was so nice to feel the warmth of someone’s body next to hers. It was so nice to be comforted—to not feel alone any more—that for a few seconds she went with her natural responses and just buried her head against his chest. She could hear his heart thudding in her ear through the thin cotton of his shirt. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest next to her skin.

It was warm. It was comforting. It was something else entirely.

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What would it be like if this could be the sound she woke up to every morning?

Her brain was doing crazy things to her today. If he’d hovered around the edges of her dream the night before, then there was no denying that he’d had the starring role last night. It was funny the things an unexpected kiss could cause to pop up in a dream.

He pulled back a little. ‘Are you okay?’ Before she had a chance to speak, his hand came down and tilted her chin up towards him. ‘I’m sorry, Laurie. I don’t mean to be a bear. I’ve been so caught up in the fact that Annick Castle will soon be gone that I’ve not really thought about how all this might be affecting others—affecting you.’

There was real sincerity in his words, real concern in his eyes. She should feel comforted. She should feel reassured. But all she could feel was the blood currently buzzing around her body.

‘Angus’s funeral was only a month ago. And all this has come as a bolt out of the blue. I still wake up in the morning and it takes me a few seconds to remember that he’s not here any more. It takes me a few seconds to realise I’m in the middle of all this. I feel as if I haven’t really had a chance to say goodbye to him yet.’

His words stopped her blood buzzing. Stopped it dead.

She could relate. She could totally relate. Grieving was a completely individual process, but Callan’s sounded similar to how she’d felt.

This time she reached out to him. And it was the most natural thing in the world for her. Her hand reached up and cradled the side of his cheek.

‘I hated that. That few perfect seconds where everything was all right—just as you woke up. Then, that horrible sicky feeling you got as soon as you remembered. It was like that when my dad died. It took months for it to go away, Callan—and even now, ten years later, tiny little things—a headline in a paper, a picture of something, or someone saying something totally random to me—can bring it all flooding back. It doesn’t go away. It never goes away.’

He hadn’t moved. He was just watching her with his steady green eyes. He probably didn’t realise it, but she could see the myriad emotions flitting behind his eyes.

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