Stolen (Wild Mountain Scots, #3)

With heavy footsteps fuelled by aggravation, I stomped along the mountain ridge, high above a Scottish glen. Either side of my lonely hiking spot, the gorgeous Highlands spread out, steep slopes green and gold in autumn, and a tiny river sparkling below.

Deer moved on the opposite side of the valley. A bird of prey cried overhead.

So pretty. So picture perfect. So not helping me get out of my funk.

I’d been on vacation for a week, visiting my sister Elise and her boyfriend. They were great. Life here was freaking lovely.

The source of my butthurt mood came from elsewhere.

1. The fact that, when I got here, I leapt into the arms of the wrong guy and kissed him. Thoroughly.
2. In doing so, I alienated the right guy and he wasn’t returning my calls.
3. The blast of chemistry and heat I’d felt in the wrong guy’s arms that I’d never felt when hanging around his twin.
4. The fact that no one had mentioned twin brothers. Not once. Nuh uh.

Add to that the small matter of the bank error that had led to a million dollars being credited to my account—a cool million that wasn’t mine that the bank refused to take back—and I was ready to scramble up the mountain peak that loomed ahead of me and scream into the void.

Not seriously. The narrow ridge turned precarious higher up, and I wasn’t an idiot. This was meant to be a nice walk while my sister and her guy were out for the day. No attempt on the summit for me.

I muttered at the loose rock under my boots and momentarily considered turning back. Except I still had issues to mull over and energy to burn. A little farther wouldn’t hurt.

Marching on, I got back to my train of thought.

Screw Max, the guy I’d picked for my vacation hook-up. Screw the bank. Screw my rapidly worsening homelife back in the States. Screw having a lifechanging amount of money that I couldn’t use, even though it could help—

Crunch. Under my feet, the path crumbled.

“Ah!” I squawked, flailing an arm to keep my balance.

But I couldn’t save myself.

In slow motion, I fell, spearing my elbow into the bare ground. Automatically, I tucked in to avoid hitting my head, but my momentum didn’t stop there. Gravity and the rough mountainside conspired, and I tumbled and skidded down the slope.

Gravel bit into my skin. Rocks grazed my palms. Finally, after what felt like forever but could only have been a second or two, I hit a springy shrub and stopped, dust flying.

Jesus. I’d just toppled off a mountain.

Stunned, I sat upright, pricks of pain making themselves know all over my body. It hurt. I raised my hand. Blood trickled down my palm, and a whimper left my lips.

With rising panic, I extended my legs, the thick pants I’d borrowed from my sister rustling. Both limbs worked, so they couldn’t be broken. I rolled my neck then tested my right arm, rotating my wrist. All good.

Then I tried my left.

My elbow panged, and the pain drove instant nausea through me.

Fuck.

“Ow,” I whispered then curled in on myself, shock settling.

I was injured. Badly. Worse, I was left-handed. My career as a graphic designer depended on being able to use my arm.

Please let it not be broken. My head swam and for a long minute, I just sat there and shook.

Then I burst out with a howl of frustration.

This wasn’t meant to happen. I needed to rewind and zoom myself back up the hillside to the ridge and this time pay attention to where I set my feet. Not mope over men and money.

Cold slunk in from the autumn day. I flexed my arm again, recoiling from another hit of the horrible bone-deep ache.

I had to get home. Except on the whole of my walk, I hadn’t seen a single other person, and I was far from any road.

Searching in my small backpack, thankfully still over my shoulders, I found my phone and dialled my sister. There was a solitary bar of signal, but the call connected and Elise’s voice came out clear.

“Rory, we’ve just driven into Aberdeen. It’s so pretty here, all these imposing granite buildings. I wish you’d come with us. How’s the walk?”

I swallowed and tried to force calm into my voice. “I’ve had an accident.”

“Oh my God. Are you hurt?”

In the background, Cameron, her boyfriend, swore.

“I slid on loose rock and dinged my arm,” I admitted.

“Where are you?”

“Up on this ridge. I’m pretty sure I can make my way down. I just need the fastest route home.” With care, I eased to my feet, keeping my injured arm clamped to my body.

“No, stop. You need help. Wait up, we’re pulling over.”

I dropped to my butt once more.

Elise asked Cameron something, her voice muffled. I picked up the words ‘mountain rescue.’ Her boyfriend was one of the crew that went out in red jumpsuits and helicopters. In the week I’d been here, he’d twice sprinted out to extract some lost person from a remote place. It was all high drama and excitement.

“Seriously, I’m not that bad,” I added.

“Rory, listen.” Cameron came on the line, his voice stern. “Tell me exactly what happened and describe your surroundings.”

Tears threatened again, but I kept my cool and gave him the blow-by-blow description of all he’d asked.

Cameron drew a breath. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Aye, ye might feel fine, but delayed shock can hit, and the last thing we need is for ye to have a second accident. I know your location, and I’m going to send someone up to walk ye off the hill then take ye to hospital to be checked over.”

I bit my tongue. There was no way I could afford that, and I hadn’t taken out medical travel insurance—Elise had paid for my flights here, and I wasn’t exactly flush with spare cash. Almost every penny I had I used to support my mom. Being young, fit, and healthy, I’d convinced myself that the expensive insurance was unnecessary.

But I didn’t want to admit that right now. Instead, I’d tell it to whichever of his friends he sent to pluck me from the mountainside and let them deliver me home.

“Sounds good,” I managed instead.

“Grand. I’m going to hand you back to Elise then I’ll call Maddock. He’ll be able to drive up close to where you are. I’ll give him your number so you two can meet. You can trust him.”

On autopilot, I gave him my thanks, but my stomach had flipped.

Trust him? Sure. Except Maddock was the wrong man. The twin I’d never met until I kissed him—a fact I hadn’t shared with anyone through sheer force of embarrassment. I’d hoped never to see him again throughout the rest of my stay, and now he was on his way to save me.

I palmed my face then squeaked at the pang of hurt from both my bleeding palm and my joint.

In my ear, Elise gave me reassurances, and I took several deep breaths.

“Maddock’s on his way,” she said. “He’ll call when he’s close if he can’t see you. We’ll come home now—”

“No need,” I interrupted. “Please, don’t return for my sake. I’ll be fine.”

Better that they see me in the evening rested up so they wouldn’t insist on the hospital.

She tutted but agreed.

We hung up, and I waited on my second big humiliation of the day.

A rumble of an engine broke the pristine silence forty minutes later. I’d stayed put, wary after Cameron’s warning, so I squinted down the glen.

A large, white off-road vehicle sped across the open ground. It splashed through the bright river then ascended toward me. A row of floodlights sat across the roof, and the mountain rescue service’s logo decorated the side.

The driver followed an invisible path before stopping. He opened the door and stood on the footplate, scanning the ground.

I waved, and he raised a hand in return then got back into the car.

Relief surged and, with it, my emotions rushed in again.

My rescuer brought the car up to a rockfall fifty yards from me. Then, in jeans and a sweater, not a jumpsuit, he swung a heavy-looking rucksack onto his shoulders and ascended the treacherous slope on foot.

I stared, my heart doing something silly.

I’d met Max, his twin, this summer in California. We’d started an easy friendship based on the fact that my sister and his cousin, Cameron, had a thing for each other. On paper, Max was my type. Somewhat surly, not shy of getting drunk and doing stupid shit with me. Including getting matching tattoos on a whim.

Redheaded, freckled, built, he was everything I liked.

But we’d had precisely zero spark. The opposite of when I’d found myself in Maddock’s arms.

The two men were so alike, but the version I’d kissed had felt so different. So good.

I peered at the stranger closing in, the twin I didn’t know, and tried to stand.

“Hold up, lass,” he called. “I’ll come to ye.”

Obeying, I waited him out, unable to stop my brain from enjoying the sight.

Maddock was downright rugged. The sun gleamed over him, setting that dark-auburn hair ablaze, and his shirt stretched over a muscular frame. He took on the tricky hill with ease, finding safe footholds with his big boots.

Confident. Commanding.

Then he was right there in front of me, and I was more stunned than from my fall.

“Hey. I’m Maddock. I’m here to help.” He twisted to offload his backpack.

He introduced himself? Why, when he knew exactly who I was?

I took the second of his attention being off me to regroup.

“Hey,” I replied, my voice a smidge too high. “Thank you for coming out.”

“Nae bother. Cameron said ye fell. Tell me what happened.”

I rattled through my story again. Maddock listened, his gaze bouncing from my face to the wad of bloodied tissue I clutched in my right hand, then to the way I cradled my arm against my chest.

Not a glimmer of familiarity registered in his looks. No teasing, nothing. He couldn’t have forgotten about me, so this had to be a professional routine.

“I need to ask a few questions and check ye over. Is that okay?”

“Go for it.”

He started with a quick rundown of my health—all good—then moved on to a more amusing question. “Have ye had any alcohol today?”

“I wish. Is there a flask in that pack of yours? Got to say, shots are looking highly appealing right now.”

This earned me a small shake of his head, but Maddock moved swiftly on.

Despite my situation, I wanted him to acknowledge that he knew me. Even though he didn’t. Jeez. Maybe I had dented my skull in the accident.

“I’d like to check that arm out next. Can I help ye slip off the jacket?”

I sighed for effect, being cute to distract myself from the hurt I knew was coming. “If falling off a mountain was all it took to get a guy to take off my clothes, I would’ve done it last week.”

Maddock’s lips pressed together, and he finally settled his attention on my eyes.

For a long second, he just gazed at me.

Ah. There was the recognition I’d wanted.

I swallowed. “Sorry. Blame the shock from the accident. But I kissed you, and now here you are, patching me up.”

He winced.

Oh shit.

Last week, I’d apologised for the kiss. Maddock had seemed more worried about his brother who’d witnessed the act then zoomed off on his motorbike. But I hadn’t considered how unwelcome it had been. Had I really felt chemistry? I guess I was wrong.

“Sorry,” I repeated in a mumble. “Didn’t mean to say that. I’ll behave.”

Slowly, I edged my uninjured arm out of the coat, then hissed when I dragged it off the other.

Maddock helped me pull it free. “I’m going to roll up your sleeve. It might hurt.”

“Damn straight.” I held my breath as, with careful fingertips, he revealed the joint.

In my head, I was sure I’d dislocated the thing. Or maybe fractured it. But the skin was smooth and the appearance normal.

Maddock examined it, pressing gently and questioning me on how I felt his touch. I wished I could find more words to apologise and make things right, but nope, the assessment had me feeling sick again.

“It’s naw broken, and the joint feels sound. Can ye do this?”

He made a series of shapes with his hand. I copied them, the pain real but the movement possible.

“That’s good, right?” I asked.

He sat back on his heels. “I think so, but it’s worth getting an X-ray in case of a fracture.”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital.”

He cocked his head. “No? How important is the use of that arm to ye?”

What a question. Cold dread swirled in my belly, displacing all other feelings. All I had was one skillset. My ability to draw. I was good, but with a busted arm, I’d be nothing.

No job meant no income.

“Vital if I want to earn a living,” I confessed.

Maddock’s expression grew even more serious. “My concern with a fracture is that it could turn into a worse injury without proper care. Say next week, ye hop off a plane and grab your suitcase. The weight could be enough to break the bone. I wouldnae recommend this if I didn’t think it would help. A simple X-ray is all ye need.”

Simple maybe, but back home, that hospital trip would cost thousands.

God only knew how many times I’d pored over insurance documents to help Mom maintain her quality of life. I knew how healthcare worked.

For a long second, I pined over the money in my account. Technically, I was a millionaire. I had access to more money than I could ever earn. But it wasn’t mine.

I couldn’t spend it on myself.

But I also couldn’t risk the injury he described.

Which meant incurring a debt before I’d even started my first real job.

“Fine,” I relented. “You’re right. I’ll get the X-ray.”

Maddock smiled, but I was too glum to enjoy the effect.

In swift motions, he cleaned and put a dressing on my palm, tied a sling around my arm, and packed up his kit. With painstaking care, he assisted me down the slope to the car. Then we were on our way.

I always knew life was unfair.

Right now, I had money I couldn’t spend, a looming debt I couldn’t pay, a friend I’d lost, and a hot-as-fuck guy I’d managed to assault.

And the prevailing sensation? Over all my fears and worries, I could only think of how badly I liked the touch of the wrong guy.