Stolen (Wild Mountain Scots, #3)
Stolen: Chapter 3

For the fifth time, I waited on hold with my bank, jiggling my knee to the jaunty music. Today, after the all-clear from the emergency doctor plus a good night’s sleep, I was only suffering from a few bruises and aches.

My elbow wasn’t broken. It would heal fine.

I could cry in relief.

Instead, I’d set up in Elise and Cameron’s lounge and taken on the next big problem on my list.

“Good morning,” a voice chirped in my ear. The bank’s call handler rattled through her greeting, finishing with, “And how may I help you today?”

I’d already gone through security so I launched into the same explanation I’d given multiple times. “Hi. Last week, I logged on to my account and found someone had deposited a large sum of money. There’s a million dollars in there that isn’t mine.”

“Oh, wow. That is unusual,” the woman said.

Across the room, Elise listened to her own call and made big eyes at me.

“No kidding. I asked that someone look into it and get back to me, but no one has done that yet. Is there any update on my case?”

“I’ll get straight on that.”

She confirmed the account we were talking about, the only one with a million in it.

“That account has been empty for ages,” I explained. “Its sole purpose was to collect money from my roommates for shared bills at college. I have no reason to expect anyone to still be using it, especially for that kind of sum. Can you at least tell me who put the money in? Every time I’ve called, no one has been able to say. But seriously, there must be someone out there missing that cash.”

The woman hummed over whatever was on her screen. “I can see the deposit. It was a wire transfer.”

“Uh-huh. Who made it?”

“I can’t give you that information.”

“Why not?”

“There’s no account name attached to a wire transfer.”

I scrunched up my nose. “That’s a thing? Someone can just put money into any account on accident?”

She launched into an explanation of the checks and measures in place at the bank, all of which were useless to me.

“Okay,” I interjected, because I’d heard the same thing several times now. “Can you refund it to the owner?”

“That isn’t possible.”

“Then can you take it and put it somewhere else until they come looking for it?”

“I can absolutely help you with that. Which account number would you like the money transferred into?”

“No, no. I mean you must have a lost money place, like for lost property?”

There was a long pause.

“Hold up,” I said. “This isn’t my money. It being there is making me uncomfortable. I am vaguely scared of being in control of something that isn’t mine, and I am asking for help.”

Another pause came, followed by, “I’m just going to speak to my supervisor real quick. I’ll call you right back, Miss Westacre.”

I sighed and thanked her, though I was right back at square one, and disconnected the call.

“No luck?” Elise sipped her coffee, her own conversation over, too.

“Nope. I’m still a millionaire. Sucks to be me.”

She giggled, the sound lovely.

Elise and I had been friends since we were kids, mostly without knowing we shared a father. He’d confessed the fact to both of us separately, swearing us to secrecy, then last year, died. At least now we could openly name each other sister.

It came at a cost, though.

Elise was famous. Her superstar acting career made her so high profile, the sisterly revelation had made the news.

It had led to my mom and stepdad’s breakup.

The day it became public, Wade, my stepdad, had stormed out of our family home. Not that we’d been much of a family, but his abandonment seemed permanent. A couple of months on and he hadn’t returned. I’d spent that time consoling Mom and picking up the pieces while delaying my trip to Scotland.

Though I’d finally made it here, my worries hadn’t reduced at all.

“How’s your mom doing?” Elise asked, reading my mind.

“I texted her yesterday, but so far, no reply.” I checked my phone. “My aunt’s staying over, so I checked in with her, and Mom’s okay. Well, not in most ways. Aunt Rebecca said something about my stepdad writing to Mom, saying he’d come around. Of course he didn’t show. He’s just filling her head with hope, and Mom has hit rock bottom again.”

“She’s depressed?”

“Big time.”

“Is she still working?”

Despite being in a wheelchair, her lower vertebra crumbling, Mom had held down a part-time job working from home. My stepdad had mooched off her, taking more than he gave.

I uncurled my bare legs from the couch and stretched them out, admiring a large bruise on my thigh. “Yeah, she still has her job. You know, I think being single will be a new start for her. Wade dragged her down. I’m glad he didn’t show.”

“At least he won’t be around to bad-mouth you anymore,” Elise observed. “He was a dick. But this leads me neatly onto my next question. Do you think your mom will be able to come to my wedding?”

Elise and Cameron were engaged, and neither wanted to wait long to get married. They hadn’t set a date yet, but whenever it was, I’d be there. Even if I had to take out a credit card to pay for the flights.

But I’d be going alone. Without even asking my mother, I knew tempting her out of our town was too big a deal, let alone out of the country.

I scrunched up my nose. “It’s nice that you’re inviting her. Include her on the invite, but it might be a step too far when some days she won’t even get out of bed.”

Elise gave a sympathetic smile. “Which makes it trickier for me to persuade you to move over here permanently, if I can’t get your mom to come, too.”

I could never leave her, no matter how tantalising the thought of moving to Scotland.

My phone dinged, alerting me to an incoming email. I opened it, and the title had my heart racing.

Recruitment alert: Internship at SpaceTechOne.

“Holy shit.” I slapped my hand to my mouth then held out my phone for Elise to read the message. “I’ve been dying to get in with these people. They are part of a huge gaming company and produce the most epic concept art. I worked with them for a couple of months as a college placement, but no jobs have come up since I graduated.”

“Exciting! What’s concept art?” She squinted at the screen.

“It’s the pictures of how a computer game will look like once developed. The company and promoters use it to show investors and fans what to expect. As the graphic designer, you get to go nuts with the possibilities. Oh my God. This is my dream job. It would be for any artist. Seriously, I’d give my right arm to get this. Kind of like I almost gave my left arm yesterday.”

“Unpaid, though. Can you afford to do it?”

My bubble burst. “Nope. I’d need to do the work for them alongside pulling an income.”

She grimaced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a gloomy Gus. I wish I had the money to give you. I feel I owe you. If only we could’ve sold Dad’s house.”

Except it had burned down, the land value only enough to pay back the mortgage owed. It didn’t matter, I was used to providing for myself. Plus conversations about our father usually left me miserable.

I flapped a hand, my mind already crawling over the ways I could make the internship happen. “I’ll negotiate my hours and pick up more work with Bokeh. It’ll be fine.”

The last thing I wanted was to work at Bokeh International, the print and merchandise company I’d toiled at every school break for years, but if it meant funding my internship, I’d give them every spare waking minute.

I put my head down and started writing my internship application.

An hour later, I had a beast of a personal letter written, and with Elise’s once-over and approval, I linked to my online portfolio and submitted my application to the internship.

“Done!” I squeaked in excitement.

Elise hugged me.

“What’s done?” Cameron said from the lounge doorway.

I hadn’t even heard him come home.

Elise’s eyes lit, and she bounced to him for a quick kiss hello. Then she greeted the person behind him. “Oh! Hello to you, too.”

Cameron shifted out of the way, and my gaze touched on a redheaded Scot.

Maddock.

Even though he and Max were identical and I’d confused them before, several hours in Maddock’s company had set me right. He carried himself differently.

Max moved with arrogance. Maddock with confidence.

It was subtle, but clear to me now.

“Hi,” he said to Elise then stepped into the room, his gaze seeking me. It lingered on my bare legs. “How’s the patient?”

I raised a shoulder. “Peachy. Nothing was broken, like you thought. It’s all just bruises.”

“Good to know.”

Cameron and Elise chattered about something, moving into the kitchen. Leaving Maddock and me in a bubble of rising heat.

Purposefully, I traced a finger over the mark on my thigh.

His focus landed exactly where I wanted it to, then I drew higher to the hem of my shorts, enjoying the weight of his gaze.

This was no attempt at a seduction, more a test.

Fact was, I liked sex, and it had been a while since I’d got down to business. I regretted not bringing my vibrator on vacation.

The thought of some creepy airport security dude searching through my luggage just because he’d spotted that on the scanner had been enough to make me leave it at home.

My hand was a poor substitute for either man or machine.

The whole plan about kissing Max had been to enjoy a fling while I was here. It wasn’t personal, just wringing out an orgasm or two with a guy I knew and somewhat trusted.

But with Maddock…

That would be a whole different ballgame. The idea of fooling around with him, the tall, skilful pilot, had my excitement meter zinging to the maximum.

Maddock’s chest rose and fell, his focus replaceing my eyes.

Then we were staring, and I had no clue what was going on in his head. Yesterday, he’d been friendly, but more on the professional side. As soon as I had company, he’d left the hospital and not looked back.

Now… His jaw tightened, and hunger darkened his gaze. One of his hands grasped the doorframe above his head as if he needed steadying.

Neither of us broke the stare. Pressure grew around me, speeding my pulse.

“I’m going to cook dinner,” my sister sang from the kitchen entrance. “Maddock, will you stay?”

In a beat, the emotion left him, and he flashed a cool smile at Elise. “Sorry, I have somewhere to be. Rain check?”

Just like in our last meeting, he swung around and vanished, calling a farewell to his cousin that cut off as he slammed the door.

Cameron joined Elise. “He’s gone?”

“I said I was cooking. Shit. I should’ve said you were helping. I scared him off.”

They both chuckled, but it wasn’t Elise who had freaked him out. It was me. Except I had no idea how or why.

Of another fact, I was sure—I badly wanted to get under his skin. The wrong guy, a pilot when I was afraid of heights, still felt all too right.