Bound By Passion. Katherine Garbera

      Once Jenna had stepped out and closed the door, Reid righted the overturned chair and offered it to Cabot. “You are going to have a good time with your wife and sons. Even if none of the planned activities offer much of an adrenaline rush.”

      Cabot grinned at him. “Oh, there’ll be adrenaline rushes—they’ll just be different. Isn’t it time you explored the adventures you can have once you marry and have children?”

      Reid raised both hands in mock surrender. “No thanks. I’m not cut out for family responsibilities.” He’d decided that a long time ago, during the slew of repercussions that had followed his father’s arrest for embezzlement.

      With a grin, Cabot sank into the chair. “You just need the right woman to change your mind.” He waved a hand at the photos displayed on the credenza beside Reid’s desk. “Or maybe your brothers could do the job, seeing as they’ve both found that special woman in the past few months.” He dropped his gaze to the duffel bag at the foot of Reid’s desk. “For a man who’s dead set on avoiding the whole marriage-and-family thing, aren’t you running a huge risk spending your vacation up at that castle with those magic stones?”

      Reid narrowed his eyes. “Who says I’m going to Castle MacPherson?”

      Cabot’s grin widened. “Elementary. Really elementary. I don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out you’re headed there. Not with the publicity your brothers have received lately. Each of them has been involved in the discovery of part of the long-missing Stuart sapphires. But the necklace is still lost. My bet is that sibling rivalry alone is pulling at you. I’m surprised that some enterprising reporter hasn’t sought you out for an interview.”

      Reid’s eyes narrowed. “My brothers have kept a very low profile. You only know the extent of their involvement because I told you.” So far, any publicity Cam and Duncan had garnered had centered on the romantic side of their adventures with Adair and Piper MacPherson, a slant that was encouraged because of the castle’s wedding business.

      Cabot raised both hands, palms outward. “Just saying. Last night one of the cable news channels did a Cliffs Notes summary of pretty much everything you’ve told me about unearthing the first two earrings.”

      Reid had caught the broadcast. The correspondent had laid out a coherent time line, starting with Adair finding the first earring after lightning had struck the stone arch, and ending with Piper and Duncan’s discovery of the second earring in one of the caves on the castle grounds. The reporter’s narrative had focused on the drama—the threats to the young women’s lives. The villain who’d tried to kill Adair was in jail, and Deanna Lewis—the woman who’d subdued Duncan with a Taser shot and then had abducted Piper—was in a coma in a hospital in Albany. So far the press hadn’t latched onto the fact that, for six months prior to finding the first earring, someone had been paying undetected nocturnal visits to the castle. Cam’s theory was that the visits had been triggered by a feature article in the New York Times linking Eleanor’s dowry to the sapphires that Mary Stuart had worn at her coronation. The piece had stirred up a whirlwind of interest in the missing jewels, and it had also enormously helped Adair and Viola MacPherson launch their wedding destination business at the castle.

      “The anchor mentioned the fact that the youngest MacPherson sister had yet to pay a visit to the castle since the first earring was discovered,” Cabot said. “The implication was that, when she did, the necklace might be found. If her sisters’ experiences are any indication, she’ll need some protection, so it’s not a leap to think that the speculation might extend to you eventually.”

      Reid said nothing. He wasn’t worried about the media getting around to him. But the cable newscast had certainly heightened the nagging worry he’d had about Nell. Cabot was thinking along the same lines that Reid was. Nell’s two sisters had been lucky enough to find Eleanor Campbell’s missing earrings. It definitely wasn’t a stretch that anyone who wanted to gain possession of the necklace would be keeping an eye on Nell.

      He intended to do just that himself.

      Lance Cabot laughed. “That deadpan look works well in a poker game. And it may work with the media. But I know you. You’re going to take a shot at finding that necklace. That’s the real reason why you’re sending me off with the very capable Jenna Stanwick.”

      Cabot was right about that, too. Reid was going to take a shot at finding the necklace. That was the second reason why his duffel was packed and waiting. He’d learned that Nell was heading to the castle on Sunday after her book signing today in Georgetown and a few days with her sister Piper. By joining her, he could kill two birds with one stone. Make sure she was safe and find the necklace.

      The damn thing had always fascinated him.

      The image flashed into his mind of the first time he’d seen the painting of Eleanor wearing her sapphires. He and his brothers had been ten, and their newly divorced mother, Professor Beth Sutherland, had made arrangements with A. D. MacPherson to research Beth’s first historical novel in the castle’s library. Part of the arrangement she’d negotiated had allowed her to bring her triplet sons along to the castle every day. Thus had begun a long summer of playdates that he and Cam and Duncan had shared with the MacPherson sisters.

      Of course the oil painting had only hinted at the beauty of the jewels, but he’d felt something as he’d stood beneath the portrait that day and had listened to the story of Angus and Eleanor’s flight from Scotland to the New World. The older girls had let little Nell do most of the talking, and all through the recital, Reid hadn’t been able to take his eyes off the jewels.

      Tradition held that this artwork in the main parlor was Eleanor’s wedding portrait, and the priceless sapphires were her dowry. But after her death there was no proof of their existence. Reid imagined that her children and grandchildren had searched the castle thoroughly, but they’d never found the sapphires. The long-missing “treasure” had become the focus of many of the games he and his brothers had played with the MacPherson sisters that summer.

      It was on that day, looking at the painting, that he’d made a promise to himself that one day he would find Eleanor’s dowry. Of course life had interrupted. When the summer had ended, their mother had taken them back to Chicago and resumed her teaching responsibilities. But Reid had never forgotten the jewels or the story that Nell had woven about her ancestors.

      Seven years ago, he and his brothers had returned to the castle for a brief visit on the day that their mother had married A. D. MacPherson beneath the castle’s legendary stone arch. That had been the last time he had crossed the MacPherson girls’ paths. He and Cam and Duncan had been seniors in college and totally focused on their careers. Cam had already interviewed at the CIA. Duncan had his sights set on working in the behavioral science division of the FBI, and Reid’s own goal had been to land a job in the Secret Service. None of those careers left much time for family. So even though they were technically stepbrothers and stepsisters, it hadn’t been until this summer that their lives had intersected again.

      A tap sounded on the door, and Lance Cabot rose from his chair. “My vacation adventure calls.” At the door, he turned back. “Good luck finding the sapphires. But in two weeks, I expect you back on the job. By then I will have figured out your secret move.”

      “Not worried.”

      “You should be.”

      Reid could hear Cabot’s laughter even after he shut the door behind him. But he didn’t smile. His conversation with the VP had only increased what his instincts had been telling him ever since Piper and Duncan had found the second earring. Nell could be in serious danger.

      The cable news correspondent hadn’t spent much time at all on Deanna Lewis. But Reid’s family had been digging into her background for the past ten days. She’d been born and raised in London, the only daughter of Mary and Douglas Lewis. Deanna’s mother had died when she was three, her father when she was a freshman in college. She’d been working as a freelance photographer when she’d sold the senior editor of Architectural Digest on the idea of doing a feature article on Castle MacPherson. In short, she