I was surprised he asked me to join him in the smoking room. He’d spent the entire dinner scowling at me. I got the impression he was waiting for me to leave. Then out of nowhere this invite for me to join him.

I was glad he did. I had no desire to be on my own and the owner of the castle didn’t seem in any rush to respond to the note I’d left with the housekeeper.

Even though he seemed furious with me, I couldn’t help looking at my fellow diner while trying to find my appetite. My stomach felt queasy, though I had no idea why. I just sat there opposite him, feeling his eyes on me, anger radiating off him. What was he so angry about? Had he hoped to vacation here alone? Was I interrupting some upper class retreat?

It was clear he had money whoever he was. From the way he spoke to his body language as he sat perfectly upright in his seat, it all spoke of a privileged upbringing quite different to my own. He looked like he'd never had to struggle for anything.

The smoking room was as beautiful as the rest of the castle. Dark wood panels on the wall, more oil paintings though these were of hunting and riding scenes. Above the fireplace a yellowed set of antlers, two crossed swords beneath them. In the fireplace an inferno was roaring, logs spitting and crackling, filling the room with heat.

A sofa and two armchairs had been set up before the fire, forming a semicircle around a black wool rug. I took the armchair, regretting it almost at once as the heat struck me like a wall when I sat down.

He took the sofa, stretching his legs out towards the blaze. In the time it had taken me to sit down, he had produced two glasses of whiskey and he passed one to me, taking the other and swilling it gently in his hand, looking down at the contents.

“You’re an American,” he said, looking up at me at last, still sounding furious. What was behind that facade? Why was I thinking about him talking dirty to me in that tone of voice? Telling me I’d been a bad little girl and that I must be spanked.

“I am,” I replied, taking a sip from my glass, trying not to cough at the burning sensation that struck the back of my throat. “That’s strong.”

“Keeps you warm,” he replied, tipping his back and emptying the glass in one gulp. “Another?”

“I’ve barely started.”

“Would you believe this is my first drink in more than twenty years?”

He was looking at the empty glass as he spoke, his voice softer.

“Was it worth the wait?”

I saw it, the merest twist of his lips, as if he wanted to smile but was stopping himself before it could begin.

“What brings an American to Castle Doon?”

“Business.”

“Ah, yes. Your mysterious proposition.”

“What about you? What brings you here?”

“I’m here to help sell the castle.”

“Sell it?” I was shocked. “I can’t imagine selling somewhere like this.”

“You like it then?”

“Like it? I love it. If I could live here for the rest of my life, I’d die a very happy woman.”

“It would get to you. It gets to everyone, the isolation, the rigmarole of taking the boat to the mainland whenever you want anything, getting snowed in for weeks on end in the winter.”

“I can’t think of much I’d rather do than be stuck here for weeks on end.”

“Want to buy it then?”

His face was as serious as ever but there was a sparkle in his eyes. “You’re kidding?”

“Got three quarters of a million going spare?”

“Is that how much it’ll cost?”

“Thereabouts.”

He poured himself another glass of whiskey, topping mine up at the same time.

“Why’s it being sold?” I asked. “The book said it had been in the same family for centuries.”

“It has.” There was a note of sadness to his voice. “But there’s money trouble on the horizon.”

“My proposition might help with that, the money trouble I mean.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than just money. I should get on. Good night, Miss Beal.”

He took his glass with him, walking away without looking back.

The anger had gone from his voice as we’d talked but when he left he once again seemed furious with me, the good night spoken as if he was cursing my existence.

I remained where I was for a while, sipping at my glass and thinking about tomorrow. If I had no response to my note, I’d go look for the owner myself, put the proposition to him. Knowing he was in money trouble made it easier. Half a million might not solve his problems but it should certainly ease them.

I got the feeling he’d leap at the chance for us to film here, especially if it meant the castle appearing in publicity for the movie. Then it wouldn’t be empty apart from me and Mr Brooding Anger. It’d be filled with visitors.

Part of me felt a strange sorrow at the thought. I liked it quiet, it gave me a chance to pretend to be the princess, that the castle was mine. It was a silly daydream but an enjoyable one and it made me smile as I headed off to my bedroom.

I thought about him that night. He was hiding something but I couldn’t work out what it was. I hoped I’d bump into him tomorrow, I wanted to try and get the smile out of him that I knew was hiding in there.

I had an unusual dream that night. In it I was a princess and he was a marauding knight. He burst into my bedroom and dragged me kicking and screaming from my bed, hauling me over his shoulder, carrying me down several flights of stairs until we reached a dungeon. There were lots of things in there that were put to use on me. Chains, whips, canes, candles, hot wax dripped onto my prone form as he ripped my pyjamas off my body, burying his face between my legs.

I jolted awake, sitting upright in bed as the dream slowly dissolved around me. “Well that was strange,” I said out loud as I pushed back the blankets, my heart slowing.

Already the dream seemed smaller, less real. It had been a long time, that was all. And he was handsome, that was just a fact. But he was angry all the time and unpredictable. Plus I was going home tomorrow so there was no point even thinking about things like that.

I dressed quickly, hoping to see him at breakfast, reassure myself that he wasn’t all that impressive. But he wasn’t there. I ate alone.

The housekeeper brought me a huge bowl of porridge, honey and berries added to it. “I wondered if Mr King had seen my note,” I asked her when she returned with a mug of coffee almost as big as the porridge bowl. “Is he free at all?”

“I believe he went for a walk this morning.”

“A walk? Right, thank you.”

I ate slowly, looking out of the dining room window. So Mr King was out there somewhere, my future in his hands. He didn’t know it but he was going to be directly responsible for where my career went. Up to the very top or crashing into oblivion. All of a sudden, I wasn’t hungry. I was nervous.

I made myself drink my coffee before getting up. I didn’t want to go running after him. I was a professional, I needed to appear calm, as if it didn’t matter to me what he decided. That way I wouldn’t come across as desperate. I also thought Rob might turn up but he didn’t. In the end, I gave up waiting.

I retrieved my jacket from my room before heading out. It was only a small island. Mr King couldn’t have gone far.

I walked around the entire thing but saw no one. There was just me and the ever present sheep. I was crossing past the footbridge for the second time when I saw a movement on the next island. Halfway up the mountain side something caught my eye. Someone was walking over there.

It could only be him. From this distance he was little more than a speck but I calculated I’d catch up in a couple of minutes.

I got my calculations very wrong. Even the bridge took longer to cross than I expected. By the time I reached the far side, the figure was far further up the mountainside.

The sun was out though so I wasn’t too worried. I headed up after him, following a worn trail in the grass. After ten minutes, I was onto steeper ground and having to lean into the hillside, moving from grass to loose stone, the track becoming fainter. I started to pant as I climbed, feeling desperately unfit, having to stop to catch my breath before half an hour was up.

I’d expected to have caught up with him by the time I stopped but he was gone from sight when I looked and I was no more than a third of the way up the slope to the peak.

The view below me was stunning, but it began to fade as I climbed again, a haze turning into light rain that caught me unawares.

The higher I climbed, the worse the weather became and still there was no sign of him. When it began to snow, I decided to head back. It wasn’t worth freezing to death over. I’d just wait for him to come back down.

The snow turned back into rain as I slowly descended, water running between the rocks, making me stumble as I lost my grip several times. Each step seemed to take twice as long in the rain.

I stopped to wipe the rain from my eyes, looking down to see the ground finally getting close. I could barely feel my hands on my face, my fingers turning blue. I picked up the pace as the rain grew heavier but as I stretched to reach the grass, I slipped, landing hard on my right ankle.

With a grunt, I got to my feet but immediately regretted it. My ankle screamed with pain. It was either broken or severely sprained but whatever the damage, I could hardly walk on it. I limped down, cursing the Scottish weather. It had been sunny when I’d set off and now I was covered in mud, soaked through and in agony as I squinted, looking for the footbridge.

Finally I saw it and headed slowly towards it, each step making me cry out. I would have given anything for a crutch to take the weight off my right leg but there was nothing I could use. I could only limp, trying to keep moving, knowing if I stopped I might not be able to get started again.

I stumbled as I reached the footbridge and before I knew what was happening, I was sliding down the slope next to it. The water loomed far too closely, the waves crashing beneath me.

I screamed in panic, trying and failing to scrabble back upwards, my fingers refusing to grip, too cold to read the signals from my brain. Another few feet and I would plunge into the water. There would be no getting out from there.

I slid down further, wincing as I realised there was no getting back up. I was about to fall in the icy depths of the lake.

I closed my eyes just before I hit but as I did so I felt a jolting motion on my arm. Suddenly I was being wrenched upwards. I looked down to see the water getting further away and then I was on my back on the bridge, looking up at a silhouette above me. Someone had pulled me up.

“You need to warm your hands,” the figure said, plunging my wrists between his legs. “They’re freezing.”

He clamped his thighs over them and for a time, nothing happened. I fought to free them, no idea what he was playing at but I was too weak to struggle. His muscles were strong. Even as the feeling began to return to my fingers, I couldn’t free them. I knew the feeling was returning because I could feel something hard against the back of my hand, something hard and very big.

“Let’s get you inside,” he said, hoisting me over his shoulder as if I was a sack of straw.

The next thing I knew, I was back in the castle. I don’t know if I passed out or if I was too busy trying to get the adrenaline out of my system from my near drowning but I only came to when I was laying in bed, the blankets high around me, my ankle sticking out from the covers. Someone was examining it and when I blinked, he came into focus. I knew at once it wasn't the person who rescued me.

“Welcome back,” the stranger said, nodding in my direction. He was in his late sixties, looking over his glasses at me. “Do you remember what happened?”

I sat up, wincing as I did so. “I fell.”

“Try not to move. You need to rest it for a couple of days.”

“Who are you?”

“Dr Montgomery. Mr King called me out to see you. You’re lucky it’s just sprained and not broken. Is there anyone you’d like me to call?”

It took a few moments for what he’d said to sink in. “I’m supposed to be leaving tomorrow.”

“Ah, not on my watch. Mr King told me to take good care of you so no going anywhere until that swelling goes down.”

“How long will that take?”

“A few days. Try and rest. I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” I said as he walked over to the door. Twisting slightly on my side, I reached for my cell, searching through my contacts as I tried to flex my foot. I breathed in sharply as pain shot up my leg. “That was stupid,” I said out loud as the phone began to ring. “Mom, it’s me.”

“Tilly. How’s it going? Started tossing the caber yet?”

“No, listen, I just wanted to let you know I might be here for a couple more days.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“I’m not sure yet. Do you think you can rearrange my flight back for me?”

“Sure, when for?”

“Can I let you know?”

“Why don’t I cancel and you can rebook?”

“Great. Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re welcome, Tilly. Are you sure you’re all right?”

There was a knock on the bedroom door and as I looked it began to slowly open. “I’ve got to go, Mom, I’ll call you soon.”

I hung up in time for Rob to appear in the doorway. “What were you doing up the mountain?” he asked, scowling at me. “Don’t you know it’s dangerous up there when the weather turns?”

“I went after the owner of the castle. Angela said he was up there.”

“He was.”

“Did you see him? Is he still out in that storm?”

“No, he’s back now.”

“You’re sure?”

“I should be. You’re looking at him.”

I felt like I’d been punched. Robert. Rob. He was called Robert. Robert King, the owner of the castle. Of course it was him. I’d been an idiot not to work it out. It wasn't like he'd picked a hugely different name. “But you didn’t say. Why didn’t you say it was you?”

He shrugged. “I wanted to get to know you first.”

“But why?”

“My reasons are my own. What did Montgomery say about your ankle?”

“I have to rest it for a couple of days.”

“Then you will remain here until it is mended.”

He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at me. “I almost didn’t catch you. You must be more careful.” Was that compassion in his eyes? Where had that come from? “Is there anything you need?”

Your hand on my ass, I thought. Mine back between your thighs. You climbing under these blankets and distracting me from the pain by dealing with this sudden ache that’s building inside me.

“I’ll be fine,” I said out loud, ignoring the fact he was on my bed, so close to me I could feel the heat from him. Or was that coming from me? “Can I put my proposition to you?”

“Later. Rest for now. Ring this if you need anything.”

He placed a silver bell in my palm, folding my fingers around it. He looked at my hand for a moment and then suddenly got up, heading for the door. I wanted to tell him about the movie deal but he was already gone, marching out at speed as if he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. No doubt he thought I was one more stupid tourist like all the rest.

I lay back and thought about what had happened, how close I’d come to tragedy. He kept intruding in my thoughts. He had just been sat there on the edge of my bed. His hand by my leg. His fingers on mine.

He had saved me.

I reached for my cell, ignoring the emails from Eli asking if I’d found somewhere yet. They must have come through on the mountain as there was hardly a signal at all in the castle.

I had found somewhere. I just had to convince Robert to let me film here. I also had to pee and given the pain in my leg, that was going to be a challenge.

I rang the bell. It was embarrassing but I had no choice. I needed help getting to the bathroom.