Scot on the Run Read online

  USA Today bestselling author Janice Maynard’s sweet and sexy series continues, filled with love and adventure amid the ruggedly romantic setting of Scotland...

  Bella is housesitting in Portree, Scotland, for her brother, Finley, while he’s on his honeymoon. She expects a quiet time, enjoying the harbour town’s breathtaking views and quaint shops. So imagine her surprise when one of Great Britain’s most eligible bachelors comes pounding at her door in an attempt to evade both the paparazzi and a flurry of female fans. Unaware of his celebrity status, Bella reluctantly gives him sanctuary. Yet the surprises keep coming, and soon she’s persuaded to accompany him to Edinburgh . . . as his faux fiancée. But while helping him fend off his ardent admirers, Bella just may gain one very authentic admirer of her own . . .

  The Kilted Heroes series by Janice Maynard

  Hot for the Scot

  Scot of My Dreams

  Not Quite a Scot

  Scot on the Run

  Also by Janice Maynard

  By Firelight

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  Scot on the Run

  The Kilted Heroes

  Janice Maynard

  LYRICAL SHINE

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  The Kilted Heroes series by Janice Maynard

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Teaser chapter

  Meet the Author

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  LYRICAL SHINE BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2017 by Janice Maynard

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Lyrical Shine and Lyrical Shine logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  First Electronic Edition: July 2017

  eISBN-13 : 978-1-5161-0098-9

  eISBN-10: 1-5161-0098-0

  ISBN: 978-1-5161-0098-9

  A special thank you to Martin Biro for bringing the Kilted Heroes series to life. I enjoy working with you!

  Chapter One

  “Seriously, Finley. I’ll be fine. Quit worrying about me.” Bella gazed at her sibling in amusement. He was so head over heels in love with his new bride and eager to get away on his honeymoon that his customary big brother routine was worse than usual. “I know how to take care of the dog,” Bella said. “I’ll deal with the bills and your business mail. I’ve got this. You and McKenzie don’t need to worry about a thing.”

  McKenzie looked up from the suitcase she was packing. The gold, designer bikini in her hand was tiny. “Quit pestering your sister, Finley. Bella is a capable, grown woman.” The slender blonde whose sophisticated image sometimes made Bella feel frumpy, dangled the bits of cloth in front of her husband’s face. “Are three swimsuits enough, do you think, honey?”

  Finley’s eyes glazed over. He caught the brown-eyed blonde up in a ferocious hug. “You won’t need any of them as far as I’m concerned.”

  Bella chuckled and slipped out of the room to give the newlyweds some privacy. The wedding ten days ago in Atlanta had been the social event of the season. The enormous Episcopal cathedral had barely managed to seat the crowd of two thousand.

  Even though Bella and Finley’s father owned a nationally recognized furniture manufacturing company, and even though they had grown up in North Carolina with every financial advantage, McKenzie’s family’s fortunes were on a whole different level. Bella had worn a bridesmaid dress by Vera Wang. The bride’s wedding gown was Versace. A world-renowned stringed quartet played during the reception at an elite Buckhead country club. Champagne had flowed like water.

  It was the most amazing wedding Bella had ever seen, certainly the fanciest one of which she’d ever been a part. Aside from all the hoopla, though, what Bella had enjoyed most was seeing her brother so happy. When Finley was with McKenzie, he was at peace with himself and his world.

  More than a decade ago, Finley had left North Carolina after a bitter fight with their father. Finley had settled here on the Isle of Skye in Scotland and made a life for himself designing and selling custom-built motorcycles that were in demand all over the world. The rich and famous came to Skye in search of Bella’s brother.

  And now he had McKenzie. Bella’s new sister-in-law was delightful. She was funny and smart and driven. McKenzie was the perfect match for Bella’s taciturn brother.

  Finley and McKenzie were heading to Greece for a month, leaving Bella in charge of the house and any little details that might crop up business-wise. She would be able to explore the countryside, putter around the town of Portree, and enjoy her newfound freedom now that the end of her many years of education was in sight.

  She had missed Finley desperately while she had been in North Carolina and he had been in Scotland. They had lost their mother when they were young, their father far more recently. Bella looked forward to spending more time in Scotland in the future visiting her brother and sister-in-law. Plus, Finley and McKenzie were making plans to spend half of every year in Atlanta, so Bella would be able to see them often, even if she was still living in North Carolina.

  Finally, three hours later, the suitcases were all packed and the last minute instructions disseminated. Bella stood at the door and waved as Finley’s car disappeared down the hill. McKenzie stuck an arm out the window and waved back madly.

  After that, Bella was alone.

  The momentary letdown she felt was understandable. It had been a heck of a month. But now she had oodles of time ahead of her to tick off every single thing on her to-do list. Scotland awaited.

  “Come on, girl,” she said to the dog. “Let me get your leash, and we’ll go for a walk.”

  * * *

  During the next two weeks, Bella’s days fell into a pattern. After breakfast each morning she spent some time journaling. She had a couple of big decisions to make in the coming months. Staring at a blank page forced her to deal with her doubts and misgivings, as well as her goals and dreams.

  The afternoons were usually her time to explore the countryside. For now, she limited her excursions to the Isle of Skye. There would be plenty of time to go farther afield. In the meantime, she fell in love with this moody gem of the Scottish Highlands.

  Cinnamon turned out to be the perfect housemate. The dog slept on the floor beside the bed each night. Although Bella was perfectly content to be on her own, she came to rely on the canine’s comforting presence and was happy to have the company.

  Even if there was a certain amount of monotony in her quiet, introspective days, Bella wouldn’t have put that in the negative column. Being able to do what she w
anted when she wanted was amazingly freeing after years of slavishly following an academic calendar.

  She had begun to think nothing out of the ordinary was ever going to come along to disturb her peaceful existence, but all that changed one warm, late-summer morning. She had come downstairs to return a borrowed book to the shelf when a raucous pounding sounded at the front door.

  More startled that anything else, she peeked out the tiny window set high up in the door. The unexpected visitor saw her and began to yell and gesticulate.

  “Let me in, lass! They’re right behind me.”

  Chapter Two

  Bella kept the chain fastened and peeked through the opening at the large, agitated man on her doorstep. She knew the town of Portree was about as safe as any place on the planet. Still, she wasn’t inclined to be naïve when a stranger showed up demanding entrance.

  “Hurry,” the man said, looking frantically over his shoulder. “I know your brother. I bought a motorcycle from him. Finley knows I’m here. I’m harmless, I swear. For God’s sake, let me in!”

  Maybe it was the urgency in the man’s voice or the wonderful Scottish cadence of his speech. Perhaps it was hearing her brother’s name. Whatever the reason, Bella slipped the chain free of its mooring and opened the door. The tall lanky man brushed past her, his gaze darting around the room.

  “You’d better hide out in the kitchen,” she said calmly. “Who exactly is after you?”

  “Reporters.” He shuddered, his expression hunted.

  “Right…” She drawled the word, wondering if her unexpected guest suffered from mental health issues. He made a definite impression, not only for his height and odd circumstances, but because he was gorgeous. There was no other way to describe it. His thick chestnut hair had a little cowlick at the crown. It was shaggy as if he needed a haircut.

  Eyes the color of moss were framed in thick dark lashes. Broad shoulders strained the seams of a forest-green Henley shirt. He looked like the kind of man who could climb a mountain or tunnel out of a prisoner-of-war camp in an old movie. In other words, not her type at all.

  Cataloging her guest’s features had to be put on hold when a ferocious knocking at the door made her wince.

  The mystery man grabbed both of her hands in his, the grip firm and warm. “I beg you, Finley’s sister. For the love of God, give me asylum.”

  Staring into those eyes made her pulse flutter. Refusing to be won over by something so superficial as masculine charm, she cocked her head toward the kitchen doorway. “Stay in there. Don’t make a sound.”

  When he disappeared, she wiped her palms on the legs of her jeans and took a deep breath. This time she opened the door all the way as if she had nothing to hide. “May I help you?” she asked pleasantly.

  Two short, stocky men carrying fancy cameras stared past her intently. The professional-grade lenses of their cameras were huge. They could probably see footsteps on the moon. Or photograph film stars frolicking nude on a hidden beach. Bella had been a child when Princess Diana died fleeing paparazzi. She didn’t know what her mystery guest had done to deserve this treatment, but in an instant, she was on his side.

  Bella repeated her question. “May I help you?”

  “We’re looking for a bloke. Six three, brown hair, green eyes.”

  She smiled gently. “Sounds hard to miss. But sorry. I can’t help you.” She settled herself in the doorway more deliberately as the men became restive.

  One of them frowned. “Are you saying you haven’t seen him? He was running up this hill, and yours is the only house up here.”

  “I would think if he were being chased…” She lifted her nose and grimaced. “He could have doubled back and headed down to the harbor. We’ve all sorts of boats down there, you know. I imagine your quarry is out on the water and long gone by now.”

  For the first time, the reporters looked crestfallen, but no more so than the gaggle of women standing behind them. “You swear you haven’t seen him?”

  Under oath, or confronted with a uniformed officer, she might have replied differently. Given the circumstances, she chose to sin by omission. “Good day, gentlemen. And good luck with your hunt.”

  Then she closed the door in their faces. Leaning her back against it, she ran a trembling hand over her damp forehead. “You can come out now,” she said.

  Her fugitive returned from the kitchen, his body language a mix of sheepish relief and guilt. “Thank you, Finley’s sister. You’ve saved me. I’m Ian Larrimore.”

  She pointed at an armchair by the fireplace. “Sit there and don’t move a muscle until I’ve talked to my brother.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His hangdog expression was patently false. Nevertheless, he did as she asked.

  Finley answered on the third ring, his voice slightly grumpy. Bella didn’t care. Finley had a bad habit of playing matchmaker where his little sister was concerned. If this was one of his elaborate schemes to put eligible men in her path, she would nip that in the bud immediately.

  Ian picked up a magazine and flipped through it, seemingly unconcerned. Bella stepped into the kitchen and lowered her voice, keeping an eye on the intruder. “What’s going on, Finley? There’s a man here who claims he knows you. Ian Larrimore? Does that ring a bell?”

  “Of course it does.”

  “Tell me the truth. Is this a set-up? Did you think I was going to be lonely here without you?”

  “Ian’s in trouble,” Finley said, clearly avoiding the question. “I told him he could lay low for a few weeks in the guest room.”

  On the surface, the explanation seemed feasible. Finley’s home was listed on the island’s B&B registry. At Finley’s suggestion, Bella was sleeping in the master suite while bride and groom were traveling, so the guest room was available. Still, Bella was suspicious.

  She lowered her voce even further. “What’s wrong with him? Why is he in trouble? I don’t want to get mixed up in something illegal.”

  Finley sighed, his disgust coming through loud and clear even across the miles. “Give me some credit, Sis. It’s nothing like that. Do you have your laptop handy?”

  She frowned. “Yes. It’s here on the kitchen table. Why?”

  “Google Ian’s name. It’s easier than me trying to explain.”

  With Ian seemingly engrossed in a motorcycle magazine, Bella sat down and switched the phone to her left hand. With her free hand, she typed in what she needed and stared at the top hit. It was the website for a well-known entertainment magazine. Not one of the nastier tabloids, but simply a pop culture, lots-of-photographs publication.

  The lead story was hard to miss. Meet the twenty most eligible bachelors in Great Britain. She sighed audibly. “Seriously, Finley? You stuck me with a society playboy?” Ian’s name was number two. Prince Harry, understandably, had snagged the top slot. Hard to compete with royalty.

  “It’s not like that, Bella. Ian’s a scientist. An engineer. He hates all the attention. It’s ruined his life. All I’m asking is that you let him hide out for a couple of weeks ‘til this blows over.”

  “Your trip to Greece was supposed to also be my six weeks of peace and quiet. So I could work on my research. You’re not playing fair, Finley.” She loved nothing more than solitude and getting lost in her books.

  “He won’t get in your way, I swear. The man’s as much of a hermit-nerd as you are.”

  “Hermit-nerd? That’s a bit insulting, don’t you think?”

  “Are you saying it isn’t true?”

  Her brother’s teasing made her smile reluctantly. “No. But I’m still miffed at you. If I find out you’re trying to marry me off again, you’re in big trouble.”

  “Never crossed my mind,” Finley swore. “You and Ian are too much alike. It would never work. His IQ might even be higher than yours. I shudder to think what your offspring would be like. They’d probably come out of the womb talking in complete sentences.”

  “Can we please quit discussing my reproductive organs and get back
to the fact that you double-booked your house?”

  “What was I going to do, Bella? The man was desperate.”

  “Fine.” She sighed, closing her computer. “But you owe me for this one.”

  “No problem. My lovely wife has already picked out some ridiculously expensive Greek jewelry to bring back to you.”

  “It may take more than shiny baubles to make up for this.”

  “Whatever you say. Relax, Bella. Ian is harmless. You won’t even know he’s there.”

  Bella ended the call and stood in the doorway, assessing her new guest. At the moment, he seemed perfectly calm and content. Not at all like the man she had met half an hour ago.

  She joined him in the other room, wishing she had put on something more impressive than faded jeans and an old college T-shirt that morning. “Finley vouched for you. And he explained about the whole magazine thing. I suppose I have no choice but to allow you to stay. It’s not my house, after all.”

  “I’m sorry to put you out,” Ian said with a lopsided smile that conveyed remorse and regret. “I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

  Since the man was well over six feet tall and exuded raw, shiver-inducing sex appeal, Bella found that highly unlikely. “A few ground rules,” she said tartly. “No loud music.”

  “I use headphones.”

  “You clean up after yourself in the kitchen.”

  “I’m a neat freak.”

  “No more asking me to lie to the paparazzi.”

  Ian stood and stretched. The bottom edge of his shirt rode up, revealing two inches of flat, hard, tanned masculine abdomen. “I understand, lass. ’Twas not fair of me. But in my defense, that ravening pack of wolves has been at my heels for the past two weeks. I haven’t been able to leave my flat. My mail has been filled with strange boxes…women sending me their underwear…” He trailed off, shuddering and wincing.