Chapter One
Dust danced upon the shards of light that pierced the ancient hall of the library archives. As if calling out to her, the words on the page taunted and teased, daring Catriona to find the secret they had long held safe. One would think it a simple letter between lovers torn apart at a time of war. However, Cat saw the clues woven through the endearments. She was one step closer to solving a centuries-old mystery and finding a priceless treasure.
The pounding of her heart competed with the flutters in her stomach. It could be a historic find of epic proportions, and yet it was so much more than that to her, having been raised on her grandmother’s stories of highland heroes and ancient lands.
The Highlander’s Hope. A necklace crusted with emeralds, diamonds and sapphires, it had once been destined to fund the Scottish rising against the English. But that was before the battle of Culloden shattered Scotland’s dreams of retaking the English throne, and the necklace was lost.
Cat was now one step closer. All she had to do was piece the puzzle together and find the Hope.
***
“Crap!” Cat maneuvered her car to the edge of the narrow road, with the growing suspicion that the flopping sound killing the rhythm of her music meant she had a flat tire.
Being late for her appointment with Callum MacCraigh could ruin everything, and she was still hours away from the highland town of Dunmuir. Everything hinged on getting access to the MacCraigh estate and family records, and without the clan’s cooperation, she’d never find the jewels.
Having left at the crack of dawn, she’d already been on the road most of the day, the drive from Cambridge to the north of Scotland long enough for her butt to have gone numb hours ago.
Muttering curses under her breath, she pulled her hoodie up over her head and stepped out into the pouring rain. Luckily she had a spare, even if she’d never had the occasion to change one. Couldn’t be that difficult to get the blasted thing on.
She hauled the tiny spare out from the back of her car, relieved to see that, at the very least, it was inflated, and then grabbed the metal doohickey for undoing the nuts. With the opening fitted over one of the bolts holding her flat hostage, she grabbed the metal arm and yanked with all her might. A muscle in her back twitched in protest as she strained in effort, but to no avail. Was it rusted or had years of gunk and grime cemented it in place?
“Righty-tighty, lefty- loosey.”
She tried again, with a grunt of frustration, water dripping off her nose with an evil tickle, as the bolt finally gave way. Relieved, she loosened it and stuck it in her pocket. One down, three to go. The next two came off with relative ease, if she ignored the scraped knuckles and broken nail. The last one, however, refused to budge.
Bent over and once more straining against the iron, she didn’t notice the car whizzing around the corner, coming right at her, until it was nearly on top of her. She jumped out of the way, landing in a puddle of mud as the silver Jag screeched to a halt.
Cursing, she tried to slow her tripping heart and pulled herself to her feet, wiping her face in a futile attempt to rid herself of the nasty puddle water, even though she did little more than smear the mud.
Now out of his car, the other driver was stalking towards her. “Are you hurt?”
She took a quick account of all her body parts. “No, I’m fine, other than being covered in muck and mud.”
“What the bloody hell were ye doing in the middle of the road? Have ye lost your mind, woman?” Any concern he’d shown blazed up in his fury, his Scottish accent getting thicker with his anger.
“Me? Are you kidding? There is no way this is my fault, and I was not in the middle of the road.” With her own temper rearing up to match his, she barely took in the handsome face and blue eyes. “You could have killed me, coming around the corner that fast.”
“And you’d not have been in danger if you’d been sensible and parked farther down the road, rather than in the blind spot by the wall.”
Dark tousled hair. Touch of stubble on a strong jaw. Tall. Well-muscled. Sexy. Why did he look vaguely familiar?
“Well, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind when choosing when and where my car will next break down.” She squinted to keep a nasty drip from invading her eye. There surely had to be sheep dung in that mud. She’d never get clean, and her mind was already running down the dozens of bacteria and diseases that would likely overwhelm her body’s defenses.
As if suddenly remembering his manners, he tilted his head towards her flat. “Do you need a hand then?”
Like she’d accept his help after he’d tried to blame her for the entire incident. With arms crossed in front of her chest and her head cocked to the side, she said, “I’ll manage just fine, thank you for asking. And do try to not kill anyone on your way to wherever it is you’re going.”