A muffled masculine snort reached her ears. “I can see how you’d think so, but I’m choosing to believe our driver when he said our investor deeply values his privacy. People who pay five thousand for a meeting probably do, although this instance is my first time.”
Hers too, but she’d been flattered by the investor’s letter praising her abilities as much as the seriousness of paying fora meeting. Especially given she had to find a new job.After the accident.
The car accident had occurred in front of her apartment, and the gas leak had caused a fast-spreading fire. She’d run outside and dragged the mother and girl to safety, but when she’d seen the burns on the ten-year-old, she’d carried her inside to apply plantain to her wounds immediately while telling the mother to call for an ambulance.
She’d been filmed by bystanders and trended on social media as much for her bravery as for helping the young girl, who had little pain or scarring because of her quick help. But medical doctors hadn’t liked having their authority usurped and put up a fuss. Ridiculous given she was a certified herbalist working for a wellness practice in Edinburgh and a well-known podcaster ofHis and Hers Wellness, which she and Neil co-hosted.
Except that her visa came under scrutiny and, under pressure, the government decided to revoke it. The wellness practice had tried to change their minds, but the powers that be weren’t budging. She still couldn’t believe it.
“Surely, the cartel would pay more than five thousand, right?” she joked, keeping her eyes closed so she wouldn’t panic. As someone who helped people who had everything from cancer to depression, she was pretty unshakable. But the darkness and warmth of her own breath were starting to needle her.
“It’s not the cartel you’re meeting with,” the driver announced with a laugh from the front in his deep baritone voice, clearly blessed with incredible hearing. “Like I told you, we hope, of course, you will take our offer, but if you don’t, it’s best you don’t know where our secret facility is located.”
Who were these guys?She should never have agreed to let Neil come with her, but since their work was so intertwined, leaving Scotland made him reconsider his own options sothey could continue to work together. Producing their highly successful and lucrative joint podcast would be difficult if they were in different locations. She’d brought him along, hoping the investor would see the benefit of hiring them both. In her mind, who wouldn’t want to hire Neil? He was a former nurse, certified herbalist, and physical therapist.
“Hey, mister. Don’t worry. I’ll make up a special tisane to forget this incident ever happened if I don’t take your offer. Something with ashwagandha, skullcap, and betony to start.”
“You’re funny,” the representative observed.
“She’s a regular riot, lad,” Neil dryly confirmed. “Don’t get her started.”
“It’s not too much longer now,” the representative replied.
Time doesn’t have much meaning under a hood, Hannah thought, but at some point, the car came to a stop, and the representative came around and helped her out, keeping a hand on her arm. She made sure to twine her hand in Neil’s because she didn’t want to lose track of him, and the only way that was happening was by touch.
Without being able to see where they were going, she felt like a scared, hooded horse, shuffling her feet. The grating of a metal door sounded—she’d grown up around sheds—and after more of that uncertain walk, she was eased into a chair. Neil sat beside her, tightening his grip on her hand, so she assumed there was another chair.
Then the hood came off, and light touched her sensitive eyes. She blinked a few times before squinting after being in the dark so long, letting go of Neil’s hand. They were in a metal outbuilding with a dirt floor that had horse hooves stamped into it. No windows—except for that glass partition over there.
“Damn,” Neil commented wistfully. “I was hoping for a fancy bungalow, reflecting pool, and champagne.”
She started laughing. “With a bevy of beautiful women, I imagine. God, Neil. What have I gotten us into?”
“You’ll be fine,” the representative said, coming over and giving them a bottle of water. “If I ask you to remain seated while we wait for my boss, will you promise to do so? I’m going to see if he’s arrived.”
She rolled her eyes, studying the tall man. He was attractive in a lean, muscular way, with short-clipped chestnut hair that suggested a military background aside from the air of watchfulness around him. She imagined he was more than a driver. “I don’t even know if I’m still in Colorado. What are you thinking we’re going to do? Escape? Go. We’ll sit here and drink our water like good little minions. Your boss did pay for my time and travel. I plan to hear him out.”
His mouth curved in amusement. “I’ll be right back.”
She studied his swift exit. “Well, he’s certainly more than he seems.”
“Don’t worry. I have at least twenty pounds of muscle on him and four inches.”
Most men couldn’t measure up to Neil at six feet six inches and three hundred pounds. Usually, his size meant she could find him in a bar, or they weren’t bothered on dark streets coming home after a night out. “Meaning you could probably throw him like you do one of those stones you hurl at the Highland games.”
“Exactly.” He slapped his well-shaped thighs under his tan cargo pants since she’d vetoed him wearing his kilt to the meeting. “The blood of my Scottish ancestors runs through me. The ones who lifted tree trunks and boulders?—”
“Please…they didn’t have gyms back then.” He was obviously trying to distract her with his usual good humor, a trait she’d always appreciated. “Plus, it made their legs look better in kilts.”
He guzzled the rest of his water, showing off his thick neck. “You like a man in a kilt.”
What woman didn’t like muscular calves and the knowledgeof a man being bare under his plaid? “Guilty. So, who in the hell do you think we’re meeting?”
“Since we’re missing that bungalow and reflecting pool and sitting in a shed with a dirt floor, I have no idea.”
She gave him a brave smile. “Well, whoever it is can’t be worse than the cartel.”
“True.” He turned to her and laughed, his sandy brown hair messy from the hood. “You could still marry me and stay in Scotland.”
