Page 34 of The Secret Castle in the Highlands

‘Well, Agatha Christie, that’s where you’re wrong.’

I flinched in annoyance. ‘What do you mean?’

Mason towered over me in his chinos and white shirt. An optimistic spark lit up in his eyes. ‘When I asked Mrs Compton about a connection between the Lapley family and the Scarlet Highwayman, what was her reply?’

‘That she didn’t know why they wanted to financially support the castle through Shadow Land Holdings…’ As soon as I repeated the words, my voice tailed off and an excited smile broke out across my face. ‘You didn’t say anything about Shadow Land Holdings – but she did.’

Mason was triumphant. ‘Exactly.’ He rooted around in his back pocket for his sunglasses, which he slid back on. ‘She knows far more than she’s prepared to tell us.’

I eyed him. ‘Do you think Alex Lapley’s been up to the castle and had a word with her?’

‘I’d bet on it.’

‘So, what now?’

Mason’s full mouth tightened. I could just make out the faint silhouette of his eyes behind his aviator shades as they bored into me with renewed determination. They looked great on him. ‘We move on to Plan B.’

Chapter Eighteen

What Plan B was wasn’t exactly clear – at least to me. Or was Mason just being secretive to be a pain in the arse? If he was, it was working.

Still, he did insist on dropping me back at the annexe.

‘Thanks for the lift.’

Mason shrugged. ‘No problem.’ All I could see was my reflection in his sunglasses. My cheeks were pink and my ponytail had experienced a bashing from the sea air. Strands of hair were escaping around my face.

Mason reached up and tugged off his sunglasses. He studied me for longer than he needed to. My heart galloped. Then he pulled his silver eyes away and stared into the middle distance for a moment. The air sizzled between us in the confines of his car. It was so palpable, it felt as though I could reach out and touch the atmosphere. I knew I wasn’t imagining the way he was looking at me.

‘How are things going with your new venture, then?’ he asked, his voice dragging my attention back.

I gave myself an inner talking to and refocused. ‘We’re getting there. Providing there are no final hiccups, White Willow Cottages officially opens on Saturday.’ I watched his long fingers graze across his black leather steering wheel. I couldn’t help myself. My mind travelled where it shouldn’t be headed. What would it feel like to have his hands on me? To feel the sensation of his fingers tracing along my skin? Oh God. I was on dangerous ground. He could be funny and sexy, but he had a tendency to be aloof sometimes too.

‘So,’ I blurted, hitching up my bag from the car floor, ‘thanks again for dropping me back.’

It was a relief to clamber out of his car, with its faint whiff of expensive leather upholstery. Wild, uncontrollable thoughts about Mason had crept up on me and lingered.

He pressed a button and the passenger-side window slid down. ‘I’ll keep you posted on how my investigations go with the Scarlet Highwayman.’

I hooked my hands into the back pocket of my jeans, happy that the fresh air was taking the zinging colour out of my cheeks. ‘Please do. Oh, and I meant what I said. I want to help.’

Mason’s full mouth morphed into an irresistible grin and my stomach clenched. Those bloody dimples of his!

‘I guess even superheroes need a hand sometimes,’ he said. ‘Luckily for you, my Spiderman costume is at the drycleaners.’

I spun on my heel to go and scrabbled in my shoulder bag for my key.

‘Poppy.’

I turned around.

He hesitated for a moment, as if deliberating what to say next. Then his eyes travelled down to my trainers. ‘How’s your foot?’

‘It’s fine, thanks. I’ve been a brave soldier.’

He offered a quirky smile. ‘And your photographs of that fascinating brick wall came out okay?’

I pulled a face. ‘I told you. I was taken with a beautiful flower carving on one of the bricks and wanted a couple of pictures of it so I can paint tit.’ I fiddled with the strap of my shoulder bag. ‘Honestly, you philistine.’ I plucked the key from my bag and said to him, ‘Have a good evening.’