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Lake was standing in the street, in a T-shirt, oblivious to the icy wind co off the loch

“You,” she shouted as she strode towards him “What the heck do you call this?”

He turned as she thrust the laptop under his nose His lip twitched when he saw the pop-up ith his name and photo—on her website

“Why Kirsty, how very neighbourly of you to help ,” he drawled

She hefted the laptop

“I wouldn’t use that to hit me,” he told her “You’ll just have to find the money to replace it”

So stilled within her It was the way he said it, as though he knew exactly how much money she had—or in this case, didn’t have Her eyes narrowed Meanwhile his face was doing that thing where no eh that thick skin of his He couldn’t fool her Hi

s bloody eyes were laughing at her again

“You did this” She pointed at the screen

“To quote your oords back to you, I’m not responsible, but I may knoho is”

“This is wrong It’s mean It’s underhanded” She ran out of words

“And the stuff you’ve been throwing my way is all above board?” He cocked his damn eyebrow

“Stop that thing with the eyebrow You’re not Ja like James Bond”

“Funny you should mention that”

He cocked his head towards the shop, where a work creas putting up his new sign