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mind drifted back to the photo of her that had hung in my father’s house and then I remembered I hadn’t answered him. “Yes, of course. I’ve had a long day is all.”
    “Have you been on the hill all day?”
    “No. I only made it up to the top and back. I arrived just this afternoon. My father owned this estate and left it to me.” It might be best not to reveal too much to this stranger. And I should be asking the questions. “What do you do around here?”
    His eyes grew dark, fixed on mine, and then his expression relaxed. “I’m sorry about your father. And to your question, I work here on the estate and was completing some of the finishings in the steading. We had heard the new owner was coming, but it was to be next month. I must say, Calum Devlin kept you quite a mystery.”
    I couldn’t get a read on this guy, whether he was glad I was here or not. His expressions changed like the weather, and his eyes darkened or lightened at the slightest shadow of a cloud or tilt of his head. He didn’t strike me as moody particularly, but as if his mind whirred with a million thoughts. Interesting.
    But right now I needed food and sleep. I’d only eaten a scone and coffee since landing and the pressure in my head left it feeling like a melon caught between closing elevator doors. Hard to believe I’d arrived at Edinburgh airport mere hours ago.
    “I’m heading back to the house . . . been a long day. It was nice to meet you. I’m sure I’ll see you around,” I said.
    “I’m going that way myself, if you don’t mind the company.”
    Without waiting for a response, the Scot turned and strode down the narrow path toward the house. He held a branch out of the way for me, and his eyes swept across my body as I ducked under it. He saw me notice and quickly turned his focus back to the path.
    “You’re soaked and freezing,” he said. “I’ll get a fire going while you get into dry clothes.”
    Just then I remembered the fires I’d left blazing when I’d headed out on my little jaunt. Crossing my fingers, I hoped they’d behaved. The last thing I needed was to burn the place down on my first day. I fished my set of keys from the zipper pocket of my jacket and fumbled to find one to fit the lock.
    He pushed open the door, which led to the main part of the house. “We don’t lock up much around here.”
    I snorted at the foolishness of such a notion and brushed past him into what Calum would call a sitting room but what I called a formal living room.
    Making a poor effort to restrain a laugh, he shut and locked the door behind me. “I can see you’d prefer it locked. By the way, did Calum tell you how to start a fire in these old fireplaces?”
    “I’m sure he left instructions.”
    “No bother. I’ll get the fire going in whatever room you’d like. Come on and I’ll show you how.”
    Ben filled a pot with coal and grabbed an armful of firewood and kindling from wooden boxes in the corner of the room. This handsome Scotsman had caught my attention with his witty banter and thoughtfulness, but the crisp air permeating my damp clothes and pushing a chill through my bones had started my teeth clattering. My tongue had goose bumps.
    “You go on and get out of those wet clothes, and I’ll take care of the fire. I can show you how to start it some other time. Now, where would you like your fire lit?”
    I stifled a laugh and searched his face for the come-on behind the words, but couldn’t detect one. It seemed what crossed my mind hadn’t crossed his at all. “A fire in the sitting room of the private quarters would be great. Thanks.”
    After my shower, I pulled on a flannel shirt and jeans but still couldn’t get warm enough. The central heating didn’t work well if it was on at all. I grabbed a heavy sweater and tugged it over my shirt. Twenty minutes later, hair dry, and after giving up on disguising the weary circles under my eyes, I headed to the kitchen assuming he had left long ago. All he