do you want?’ she called out cautiously, unwilling to open up the door to a total stranger.
‘A member of your livestock has escaped, causing considerable damage on my property.’ The voice held barely concealed impatience.
‘How do you know it belongs to me?’
‘Because there is a big red E branded on the creature’s butt,’ the voice grated. ‘And if talk around the village is correct, that means it now belongs to you.’
Emma hesitated.
‘Mrs Sinclair, are you going to open the door? Or should I just unload the animal onto your front porch? I can’t hang around here all night; I’ve got things to be doing.’
‘Hold on a moment.’ There was an old oil lamp on the hall table. It took her a few moments to light it with the matches, and the glow did little to illuminate the vast hallway, but it was better than nothing. She put the chain on the front door and swung it open a crack.
‘Can you come a bit closer, please, so that I can see you?’ she asked crisply.
‘What are you doing? Checking I’m not an alien?’ The voice held a hint of amusement now. It was an attractive voice—husky, sexy.
‘How do I know that you are who you say you are?’ she asked.
‘Well, I haven’t got a password, but I do have your damn goat in the back of my Land Rover.’ He hesitated, then his voice softened. ‘Look. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’ll tie the animal up out here and you can deal with it yourself when I’m gone.’
The gentle concern in the Celtic voice brought her senses rushing back. So, OK, her uncle had had a disagreement with his neighbour, but that didn’t mean the guy was dangerous.
She closed the door, unhooked the chain and swung it open again.
Frazer McClarran’s appearance was quite a revelation. He was about her age, thirty-two, and very good-looking if you went for the dark swarthy, rugged type. Which she didn’t, she told herself firmly. She wasn’t interested in getting involved with any man again.
He wore a crew-neck sweater. Its thick cream cable looked good against his dark skin. The black jeans hugged lithe hips and long legs.
The flickering light from her lamp played over his features, highlighting the glitter of black eyes, the powerful line of his shoulders, the square, firm jawline. His hair had a slight curl to it, an unruly thickness that was very attractive.
They stared at each other. For an instant she had the impression that he was as surprised by her as she was by him. Then she remembered why. The long dress she wore was hardly what you’d describe as casual attire. She must look as if she had just stepped out from a summer ball, not an old hall that was half falling down.
His gaze moved over her in one comprehensive sweep of an appraisal, making her feel very self-conscious. Her long strawberry-blonde hair was in need of a taming brush to bring it under control, the dress showed every curve of her slender figure, and on her feet she wore the frivolous pair of silver high heels.
His gaze returned to the lamp she held in her hand. ‘Have I interrupted a seance, or do you always walk about dressed like that with the lights off?’ he asked with some amusement.
‘A seance!’ Talk about being cut down to size. She had thought she looked attractive in the dress, like Claudia Schiffer, not an eccentric clairvoyant. ‘I’ve got a problem with the electricity,’ she answered stiffly. She couldn’t think of an excuse for her clothes, she didn’t know why she had put the dress on. It had been a moment’s whim, she supposed. A nostalgic backward glance at the way her life used to be. Anyway, it was none of his business.
‘Have you paid the bill?’
‘The bill?’
‘The electricity bill,’ he said patiently.
‘Of course I have.’ She glared at him.
He grinned. ‘So what do you want to do about your other problem?’
‘What other problem?’ she asked, captivated by the darkness of his eyes. Were they really so olive-black, or was it just a trick of the light?
‘The problem of your goat.’ He waved a hand behind him. ‘I have the creature in the back of my Land Rover. It’s probably eaten its way through the seats by now.’
‘Oh, yes.’ She pulled herself together. ‘Step inside for a moment. I’ll just put a jumper on, then I’ll come and give you a hand.’
His gaze flicked again to her shoes. His lips curved in wry amusement. ‘Sure,’ he drawled sceptically.
She bit down on a terse reply. It was obvious that her neighbour thought she would be about as much help as a butterfly on a building site.
He looked around as he stepped inside. ‘It’s years since I stepped over Ethan’s threshold,’ he remarked dryly. ‘I bet he’s turning in his grave.’
‘Why?’ She paused with her hand on the door to the study.
He shrugged his shoulders in a dismissive gesture. ‘Are you going to be long? I’ve got work to get back to.’
‘No, I’ll be a minute.’ She opened the door into the study and put the lamp down on the sideboard. ‘It’s late to be going back to work, isn’t it?’ she asked, reaching for her sweater and pulling it over the silver dress.
‘Working on a farm isn’t like working in an office, you know,’ he drawled. ‘You can’t tell your animals that you’re clocking off at five-thirty.’ There was that amusement in his tone again.
He watched as she pulled her hair out from beneath the sweater, then kicked off the high heels and stuck her feet into her boots. She probably made a curious spectacle—a long silver skirt with a woollen sweater and hiking boots—but she didn’t care. ‘Ready when you are,’ she said brightly as she finished lacing her boots and threw her hair out of her eyes.
His gaze wandered around the room, taking in the cocktail dresses and smart suits that lay sprawled over the furniture. ‘What were you doing? Having a fashion show?’
‘I was unpacking.’
He bent and picked up a shoe from beside him. It had delicate lacy straps and a high platform sole. ‘You’re planning on going for long walks over the moors, I take it?’ he grated sarcastically.
She tried very hard not to blush. ‘Something like that.’ She grabbed the shoe away from him and refused to allow herself to explain that she had been in the process of getting rid of this stuff. ‘Shall we go?’
‘After you.’ He waved towards the door and watched as she struggled to take forceful strides in the tight skirt.
It was cold outside. A full moon sailed majestically from behind silver-edged clouds, reflecting on the still waters of the loch.
‘Where are you parked?’ she asked. ‘I didn’t hear the car engine.’ She was struggling to keep up with his long stride.
‘I
