Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
T he article shimmered in front of my eyes.
My stomach spiralled to the floor.
What would Logan say when he found out? Campbell, too.
I shut my eyes for a few seconds in a pathetic attempt to will away what I’d just read.
This could ruin everything—blow the search apart, encourage the wrong sort of people to swamp Skye—but more than that, Logan would think he couldn’t trust me.
I’d been vain and stupid. My ponytail whipped across my face in the breeze and I pushed it back over my shoulder, feeling stricken with guilt.
Logan was looking even more concerned. ‘Darcie? What’s wrong? What’s going on?’
The inside of my mouth felt like sandpaper. I would have to tell them, before someone else did. Wishing I could wither away to nothing, I pulled my attention away from my phone screen and looked across at Logan. Would many people see it? Perhaps it’d pass them by? I hoped so.
But going by the continual messages and comment notifications lighting up my phone, my followers had clocked it; it was being shared and the national press would likely soon pick up on it at this rate.
My fingers gripped my phone. Part of me wanted to click away from that screen with the image of the article. Maybe if I did that, it would vanish into the ether. Yeah, right!
I had to be honest. Campbell, Elliot and Logan were studying me with confused looks in their eyes. I noticed Campbell was clutching a letter. It must be the copy of the one from Victoria that Elliot had been talking about.
I licked my lips. This was excruciating, but the least I deserved. Why couldn’t I have just brushed off River’s news? If this is what being petty and jealous resulted in, I wanted no more part of it. I wanted to say something but the words lodged themselves at the back of my throat.
‘Darcie,’ said Logan with added emphasis, ‘you’re worrying me. Something’s up.’
Great. Now, I felt even more of a deceitful, pathetic individual.
I raised my phone and passed it over to Logan. ‘Look at the screen,’ I croaked.
Logan’s brows knitted together, but he did as he was told.
His gaze, usually soft and with that sexy twinkle, hardened like granite as he read what was on my screen.
He raised his head and examined me, as though he didn’t know who I was. ‘You did this?’ he faltered. ‘You went to the press about our search for the cross?’
The sky had morphed again into clotted, moody clouds.
‘I didn’t go the press,’ I protested, fear in my voice. ‘I made a mistake. I’m so sorry. I blabbed to my agent and she’s had someone at the agency write up that piece and have it posted on my social media.’
Campbell looked like he’d been slapped. He snapped his head from Logan to me. ‘What?’
The way Logan was looking at me now, especially compared to the way he’d gazed down at me at the pub celebrations, robbed me of my breath. My heart withered. ‘I’ve been so na?ve. I was irritated by another influencer and so I told my agent about the Skye Lovers’ Cross. I’m so sorry.’
‘Oh, you don’t say!’ Logan’s expression was as stormy as the North Atlantic. Disappointment whirled through his eyes. My stomach twisted.
‘But as soon as I did it, I regretted it, and I instructed her to forget all about it. I made her promise not to mention it to anyone and she said she wouldn’t.’
‘And how’s that working out for you?’ grunted Logan in disbelief.
Icy shivers raced up and down my spine. Justine had fobbed me off. She’d pretended to dismiss it. And like a fool, I’d convinced myself that her response had been assurance enough.
My ears burned as Logan proceeded to read aloud the article to Campbell and Elliot. Disappointment registered in Campbell’s dark chocolate eyes, while Elliot looked uncomfortable and shuffled from foot to foot.
Logan finished reading the piece and threw me an injured look that tore at my heart. ‘Well, congratulations. You’ve just ruined our search. We won’t stand a chance of finding the cross now.’ He let out a sarcastic laugh. ‘We’re going to have every treasure hunter from here to Cornwall racing up to Skye, trying their luck.’
‘I’m sorry.’ My voice caught. ‘Really, I am. If I could take it back, I would.’ I gave my head a sorry shake. ‘If I could just turn the clock back, I wouldn’t say a word.’
Logan thrust my phone back at me and I watched him stride towards his truck, without a backwards glance.
‘I think we’re done here,’ murmured Campbell, as he and Elliot exchanged contact details.
Elliot’s snow-white Volvo vanished a few moments later.
* * *
The drive back to Portree was agony.
I was hunched in the front passenger seat while a thunderous faced Logan kept his attention locked on the road ahead.
Campbell, meanwhile, was in the back seat, observing us both but saying nothing.
It was beginning to rain as Logan deposited us back outside the guest house. Campbell gave Logan an awkward wave and quickly vanished through The Gorse’s entrance while I lingered at the passenger side door.
‘Will I see you tomorrow?’ I managed. I had one more week here and then it was back to London.
Logan cut me off. ‘No, I don’t think so. In fact, I’m sure you’ll be able to manage without me for the remainder of your stay.’
Panic lit up inside me. I couldn’t bear it. Wouldn’t I see him again? ‘But Logan?—’
It was too late.
He threw his truck into gear and vanished up the street, leaving me standing alone on the pavement.