Page 86 of A Scottish Island Summer

My breathing ramped up. What was wrong with me? And what the hell did I think I was doing?!

Logan continued to study me, but I jerked my gaze away. No. I couldn’t go through with this. It was a mistake. River or no River, it wasn’t right. I didn’t want to let anyone down and the thought of ruining the search out of some ugly, misplaced sense of jealousy made my stomach squirm. ‘Just forget I said anything,’ I scrambled. ‘It’s not definite. Nothing is. Most of the islanders don’t even believe the treasure exists in the first place.’ My words were coming out thicker and faster. ‘It’s probably just an urban myth.’

‘Is it a ring? A bangle?’

‘Not sure,’ I replied. My worry fired up even more at her interest. ‘Don’t say anything to anyone. Please.’

When Justine just let out a non-committal murmur, my panic went into overdrive. ‘I mean it, Justine. I shouldn’t have said anything. It was a mistake.’

Logan was now listening to Ava and rubbing his stubbled, square chin.

Bugger! Why did I let my jealousy get the better of me like that?

‘Justine! Promise me. I mean it. Just forget all this. Promise me⁠—’

‘Alright. Alright! Bloody hell.’

‘Please,’ I carried on. ‘I want you to promise me that you’ll drop any idea of running with this treasure thing. We can come up with something else.’

‘Yeah. Yeah. Whatever, darling.’

I gripped my mobile tighter to my ear. I allowed myself a long, low, deep sigh of relief. ‘Thank you. OK. Right. I’d better go.’

‘Yes, I’d better push on too. And please don’t leave it too long to get back to me with some suggestions for keeping you in the spotlight,’ she sing-songed. ‘At this rate, River will be running for Prime Minister by Halloween.’

Then she rounded off her call with a breezy, ‘Ciao!’ and a theatrical kissing noise down the line.