The Great Scot Read Online Free PDF Page A

her say her piece, if he had any hope of getting more work done this day.
    â€œLetting Miss Erin move her television show into Glenshire would be a great boon to us all. Think of the economic boost we’d all receive from such publicity.”
    Apparently the villagers were no more immune to the Yank’s charm than he’d been. Fortunately he was the one making the decision here. “Ye canno’ honestly wish to have them descend upon us like a pack of jackals, turning our lives inside out, and all to broadcast us on some crass American—”
    â€œOch, now ye sound like the city snob we all feared ye’d become from too many years spent falutin’ about with all your posh friends. I know better, Dylan. You just want to hide out here and lick yer wounds.” She lifted a hand. “I’m no’ meaning any insensitivity, I’ve only your well-being in mind when I say this, but perhaps it’s time to think on a grander scale, and put the needs of the town, your villagers, your clansmen, before your own.” She squeezed his arm. “More important, though, I think throwing your doors open to Erin’s crew might do you a world of good, yourself.” She finally released him and stepped through the front door he was presently holding open for her. Just outside, she paused and looked back, a soft smile on her face, and a steely glint in her eyes. “She’ll be in town until morning. Do the right thing. For us. And for yourself.”

Chapter 3
    â€œN o, I haven’t given up, Tommy. Yes, I know minutes are money. Yes, this place is worth the extra twelve hours, I promise. I’ll have it sewn up by tomorrow.” Please don’t make a liar out of me, Dylan Chisholm .
    Erin disconnected the call with her boss and tossed her phone on the bed, then went to stand in front of the window of her hotel room. From the top floor, she had a lovely view across the village square. The sun had finally set an hour ago but between calls to her assistant and the one from her boss, Erin had missed it. She raked her fingers through her hair and massaged her temples as she watched the people below. So many of them, out enjoying the early summer evening as the moon climbed higher in the starry night sky, strolling hand in hand, pausing now and again to chat with others out enjoying the evening as well. She wondered what it would be like, living in such a place. No pressure, no traffic, no harried phone calls and pre-production lists of demands. It was a Tuesday night and no one appeared to have anything better to do than amble about and make small talk.
    â€œMust be nice,” she muttered, then turned away and dug a fresh shirt out of her luggage. She unrolled it, shook it out, debated on the relative merits of tracking down an iron, but that would mean actually using one, so she tugged it on as is, smoothed it as best as she could, then grabbed her satchel and headed for the door. Her plan for the evening was to head over to Hagg’s, but it wasn’t a social call. She was on a mission to chat up the locals some more. The pub seemed to be the social center of the small village and given how open and encouraging everyone had been earlier today in the lunch crowd, her hope was they’d be even more amenable this evening, their work day over.
    Of course, there was the little matter of Brodie and his failure to call his brother about her business proposition. She didn’t think he’d just been humoring her, nor did she think that of the locals, either. He’d probably just gotten busy and hadn’t gotten to it before she’d arrived. She’d stopped by the local sandwich shop to grab a bite on her way back into town and the few people she’d come across had all asked her how her meeting with Dylan had gone. And here she thought L.A. had a good gossip loop. They’d each seemed sincerely disappointed when she couldn’t report that an agreement