Chapter One
Isabel MacKenna had a hundred things to do today. Killing
someone wasn't one of them.
She had such high hopes this morning when she dragged herself
out of bed at the ungodly hour of five a.m. She had made detailed plans for the
day that lay ahead, and she would have sailed through them if two unfortunate
incidents hadn't waylaid her. The first was an irritating inconvenience; the
second, a terrifying nightmare.
Scheduled to take an early flight on a no-frills, but
supercheap airline to Boston, she arrived at the airport in plenty of time to
go through security. She was dressed for comfort in a pair of snug jeans and a
light pink T-shirt. Her long blond hair was up in a ponytail, and she wore a
Red Sox baseball cap her brother-in-law, Dylan, had given her. She checked her
luggage, which was packed for a trip to Scotland the following week, and
carried her backpack that held everything she would need for the next few days.
It was so stuffed she was pretty sure it weighed more than she did. The first
time she attempted to swing it over her shoulder she nearly did a backflip.
Fortunately, once she was on the plane, another passenger helped her lift it
into the overhead compartment.
She had been assigned a window seat, and she planned to go
to sleep as soon as the plane took off. In hindsight, perhaps her expectations
were naive. From past experience she had learned that there was never anything
smooth or easy about flying, and today was no exception. Once she boarded, she
was trapped, and a flight that should have taken a little under three hours
ended up taking seven and a half, thanks to the fly-by-the-seat-of-their-pants
airline and the mechanical problems they were sure maintenance could fix in no
time at all. The captain made the passengers sit on the plane for two full
hours before they were allowed to go back into the terminal to continue their
wait while repairs were completed. After another grueling hour passed, they
were told a relief plane was being flown in to take them to Boston. Apparently,
the fix-it-in-no-time-at-all plane couldn't be fixed.
It was a miserable flight. It began with Isabel plastered
up against the window while two overly friendly college students in the seats
next to her took turns hitting on her. They seemed to be in some sort of
competition to hold her attention and get her phone number. One was in his
seventh year at a college in Arizona. In the course of his monologue he
sheepishly admitted he still didn't have enough credits to graduate. The other
one was in his third year at Colorado State and had changed his major so many
times he couldn't remember what it now was. Isabel thought maybe there was a
little something extra baked into the cookies he was munching on. She was
pretty sure he was stoned.
Being polite to the nonstop talkers took effort, for
exhaustion was pressing down on her . . . and no wonder. She had gotten only
three hours of sleep the night before, and the last several weeks had been
brutal, with papers due and finals to study for, not to mention packing up
almost everything she owned and shipping it back home to Silver Springs, South
Carolina, leaving only some of her clothes and personal items. Finally,
graduation. She had hoped both of her sisters would be there for the ceremony,
but Kiera, the older of the two, was in the middle of a demanding medical
residency and couldn't take time off from work to attend. Her other sister,
Kate, and her husband, Dylan, were there to see her walk across the stage and
get her diploma. She was on her way now to meet them at Nathan's Bay, Dylan's
family home just outside Boston. Judge and Mrs. Buchanan, Dylan's parents, were
celebrating their anniversary, and their big family was gathering for the
occasion. Isabel was happy to be invited to the festivities. The Buchanans were
so warm and welcoming, and she looked forward to a week of fun and relaxation.
Then she and Kate were off to Scotland to see Glen
MacKenna, the property she would soon inherit from her crusty and-she had it on
good authority-horribly mean great-uncle. The land was located in the
Highlands, and Isabel was anxious to see it. Kate and Dylan had given her the
trip as a graduation present.
After she returned from Scotland, her plans were uncertain.
Maybe the trip would give her some insight into what her future would be.
Once the plane was in flight to Boston and the incessant chattering of her seatmates had died down, Isabel rested her head against the porthole window. She was feeling horrible. She had thrown up-a couple of times, as a matter of fact-as soon as she'd rolled out of bed, and now her head was pounding. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but the drummer banging away on the inside of her eyelids wouldn't let up.
Book Description:
Grace Isabel MacKenna had a hundred things to do today. Killing someone wasn’t one of them. It was supposed to be a quick visit to Boston for the Buchanan anniversary party, then on to Scotland to collect an inheritance. She checks into the hotel and then decides to go for a brisk walk. But after getting lost she ends up with a wounded man stumbling into her arms, and then his shooter coming after them both. When she fires back in self-defense, she doesn’t expect him to drop dead. Thanks to the Buchanans dispatching Navy SEAL and now a lawyer Michael Buchanan to help her deal with the police, Isabel endures hours of interrogation and is finally free to go.
Isabel knows she should be grateful for Michael’s help, but since she’s harbored an extreme dislike for him for years, gratitude is difficult to muster. Michael has appointed himself her de facto guardian, and she’s stuck with him despite their constant bickering and sizzling attraction. Even when Isabel goes to Scotland to claim her inheritance, Michael follows her, but he isn’t the only thing she can’t shake. Mysterious threats against Isabel surface, and before they can deal with their growing feelings for each other, Michael and Isabel must first survive.
