Throughout the tour, she’s remained by my side, casting surreptitious glances my way. Her eyes flitter away the moment I catch her staring. She returns to stand by my side and I inhale her delicious scent. It wraps around my senses, teasing me once again. My body literally aches to move closer to her. I can no longer ignore this pull between us. It’s like an invisible lasso around us, pulling us towards one another, the loop tightening and tightening around us with every passing second.

Ever since I received the note and then the shooting episode, my mind has been going in circles trying to figure out what is going on, trying to remember what my father or brother have done that was so vile that someone wants us all dead. The only time my mind is at ease is when she’s around. It makes no fucking sense, none at all. Perhaps the combination of intelligence and those striking exotic looks is what captivates me, I think.

Jonathan’s voice reverberates in the empty space, bringing me back to the present. We walk back towards the main house as he explains the history of his estate to Aaliya.

Thunder booms in the distance. I squint to look outside the window and find a white blanket of snow covering everything.

“Apologies, Jonathan,” I interrupt his conversation with Aaliya, “we’ll have to cut short this meeting. I need to return to London before the weather takes a turn for the worse.”

Aaliya looks outside the window and then at the time on her watch.

“If what Damien says is true then I need to get to the airport too,” she says.

“Nonsense,” Jonathan waves his hand, “there is no need to be overly cautious. This is Scotland—one minute it’s snowing, then its clear skies. Please allow me to invite you both to stay for lunch.”

I shake my head in a definitive no. I know these highlands like the back of my hand and I’m sure that there’s a storm brewing. Jonathan too knows that, yet he persists.

“Then, Aaliya, why don’t you stay back,” he tells her. He touches her elbow in a familiar gesture that makes me want to slap his hand away from her.

“I will ensure you get to the airport post lunch, don’t worry Aaliya,” Jonathan suggests.

“I’m sorry, but I should be going too, Jonathan. I need to get a flight back before the weather worsens,” she tells him politely. “Please, could you call a cab for me?”

Before Jonathan can say anything, I interject, “My jet’s waiting at a private air field close by. Why don’t you just fly back with me?”

Her eyes widen as they rest on me. “Your jet?”

I shrug. “Yeah. There is plenty of space.”

“Thank you. That’s kind of you to offer.” She turns to Jonathan. “I will call you and be in touch.”