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“What’s your secret?” she asked.

“No secret. Ye’ve merely been asking the wrong questions.”

“I’m pretty good with questions.”

“I suppose being a writer, ye’d have to be.”

Kris narrowed her eyes, but she still couldn’t see his face, so she could not tell if he was mocking her. Had he gone searching for her secret and found the truth? Why would he? Unless he had something even bigger to hide?

Kris turned the lamp on the bedside table to low. “I need to know who you are, Liam.”

His eyes appeared almost black in the half-light. “Ye do.”

He tangled his fingers with hers, and her stomach turned over with … what? Like? Lust? It certainly wasn’t love. Not now. Not him. Not yet.

“Ye know more of me than anyone else has in a very long time.”

“Ditto,” she murmured.

Liam tilted his head, and his sleek, smooth dark hair slid over his equally sleek, smooth shoulder. She was struck by the memory of holding on to those shoulders as he rose above her, his image but a shadow against the night.

“Ye truly think someone pushed ye into the loch?” he asked.

She hadn’t been sure until she’d had the dream. But in contrast to everything she’d ever known about dreams, the more time that passed since she’d had it the more real the dream became.

“Yes,” she answered.

He ran a hand over her no doubt frizzy, billowing hair. “Do ye think it was me?”

She jerked back. “Why would I think that?”

“Ye said yerself, ye don’t know who I am.”

“That doesn’t mean I think you’re trying to kill me.”

“Who would try to kill ye?” he wondered. “Ye just got here.”

“In other words, I haven’t been here long enough for anyone to want to kill me yet?”

His lips curved. “Something like that.”

“I doubt whoever killed those girls knew them very well, either.”

His brow creased. “Have ye noticed anyone following ye about?”

“No,” she said automatically, then— “Wait.”

He stiffened, the muscles in his arms and chest and stomach rippling, distracting, seducing. “Ye have?”

She shook the foggy give me thoughts from her brain and told him about the American who had been asking after her.

“I dinnae like that at all,” he said.

“I’m not wild about it, either.”

“Ye think he pushed ye in?”

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