‘Yes, a film crew,’ repeated Rosa. ‘I understand they’re making a film of one of the Liam Jameson’s books on the island.’
Like hell!
Liam stared at her, trying to decide if she was as naïve as she looked. ‘Why would you imagine Liam Jameson would allow a film crew to desecrate his home?’ he demanded bleakly. ‘Movies have been made of his books, I know, but they’re not filmed here.’
Was it just his imagination or did her shoulders sag at this news? What was going on, for God’s sake? Had she expected to find her sister on the set? ‘I think you’ve made a mistake,’ he said gently. ‘Someone’s given you the wrong information. I can assure you there’s no production team at Kilfoil Castle or anywhere else on the island.’
Rosa shook her head. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m sure.’
‘You’re not just trying to put me off?’
‘Hell, no!’ Liam gazed at her compassionately. ‘I realise it must be a blow, but I don’t think your sister’s here.’
Rosa’s brows drew together. ‘I don’t remember saying that I thought my sister was with the film crew,’ she retorted defensively.
‘No, but it doesn’t take a mathematician to put two and two together.’
Rosa bit her lip. ‘All right. Perhaps I did think Sophie might be with them. But if she’s not, then perhaps she’s somewhere else.’
Liam gazed at her. ‘On the island?’
‘Yes.’ Rosa held up her head. ‘So perhaps you could direct me to Kilfoil Castle, as I asked before. Is there a taxi or something I could hire if it’s too far to walk?’
Liam blinked. ‘Why on earth would you think your sister might be at Kilfoil Castle?’ he asked, trying not to sound outraged at the suggestion, and his companion sighed.
‘Because she apparently met Liam Jameson a few days ago, at the pop festival in Glastonbury. He told her they were making a film of his latest book in Scotland and he offered her a screen test.’
To say Liam was stunned would have been a vast understatement. It was as if she’d suddenly started talking in a foreign language and he couldn’t make head or tail of what she was saying. For goodness’ sake, until Sunday morning he’d been in a London clinic having muscle therapy to try and ease the spasms he still suffered in his leg. Besides which, he’d never been to a pop festival in his life.
Realising she was waiting for him to say something, Liam tried to concentrate. It was obvious she believed what she’d just told him. Her look of uncertainty and expectation was too convincing to fake. But, dammit, if her sister had fed her this story, why had she believed it? Anyone who knew Liam Jameson would know it was untrue.
But perhaps she didn’t. Certainly she hadn’t recognised him. And, taken at face value, it wasn’t so outrageous. Two of his books had been filmed in Scotland. But not on Kilfoil. He’d made damn sure of that.
‘Liam Jameson does live here, doesn’t he?’
Rosa was wishing he’d say something, instead of just staring at her with those piercing green eyes. They seemed to see into her soul, and she shifted a little uncomfortably under their intent appraisal. He probably wasn’t aware of it, but they were making her feel decidedly hot.
‘Yes,’ he said at last, when she’d finally managed to drag her gaze away from his. ‘Yes, he lives at Kilfoil Castle, as I assume you know. But there’s no way he could offer your sister a screen test. He isn’t involved in film production. If she told you he was, she was wrong.’
‘How do you know?’ Although Rosa was prepared to accept that he might be right, she was curious how he could be so certain about it. ‘Do you know him personally?’
Liam had been expecting that. ‘I know of him,’ he said, curiously reluctant to tell her who he was. ‘He’s—something of a recluse, and to my knowledge he’s never been to Glastonbury. Your sister sounds quite young. Jameson is forty-two.’
‘Forty-two!’ If he’d expected her to know his age, too, he’d been mistaken. She hunched her shoulders. ‘That old?’
‘It’s not so old,’ muttered Liam, unable to prevent a twinge of indignation. ‘How old is your sister?’
‘Almost eighteen,’ answered Rosa at once. ‘Do you think Liam Jameson likes young girls?’
‘He’s not a pervert,’ said Liam sharply, and then modified his tone as he continued, ‘And, let’s face it, you don’t have any proof that it was Jameson she went off with.’
‘I know.’ Rosa blew out a breath. ‘But where else can she be?’ She wet her lips, her tongue moving with unknowing provocation over their soft contours. ‘Anyway, if you’ll give me those directions to the castle, I’ll go and see if Mr Jameson has an answer.’
That was when Liam should have stopped her. He should have explained who he was, and how he knew Jameson had never been to Glastonbury, but he chickened out. He’d gone too far with the deception to simply confess that he was the man she was looking for. And his innate sense of privacy made him a victim of his own deceit.
‘Look, I think you’re wasting your time,’ he said carefully. ‘Jameson has never been to a pop festival.’ He caught her eyes on him. ‘As far as I know.’
‘You know an awful lot about him,’ said Rosa curiously. ‘Are you sure you’re not a friend of his?’
‘I’m sure,’ said Liam, wishing he’d never started this. ‘But I do live on the island. It’s a small place.’
‘It doesn’t seem very small,’ said Rosa unhappily. ‘And I’m not really looking forward to meeting this man, if you want the truth. He writes about horrible things. Ghosts and werewolves—’
‘Vampires,’ put in Liam unthinkingly.
‘—stuff like that,’ she muttered, proving she hadn’t been listening to him. ‘That’s probably why Sophie was so impressed by him. She’s read everything he’s ever written.’
‘Really?’
Liam couldn’t help feeling a glow of satisfaction. No matter how often he was told by his agent or his publisher that he was a good writer, he never truly believed it.
‘Oh, yes.’ Rosa sighed again. ‘Sophie’s mad on books and TV and movies. She wants to be an actress, you see. If this man has been in contact with her, she’ll be like putty in his hands.’
‘But he hasn’t,’ said Liam. And then he amended that to, ‘You don’t really believe he has?’
‘Perhaps not.’ Rosa had to be honest. ‘But, if you don’t mind, I’d rather hear that from Liam Jameson himself.’
Liam scowled, scuffing the toe of his boot against a stone, aware that at any moment someone could come up and speak to him and then he wouldn’t have any choice in the matter.
‘Look,’
