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and books maybe, but to happen to her? It didn’t seem real. Yet the very presence of the man before her, his eyes darkening with unmistakable desire the longer they stared at each other, said otherwise.
    The passion was palpable, the desire undeniable.
    The need…tangible.
    “Elena?” someone said.
    She blinked and Guy looked away, the spell that had taken them now broken. Elena watched as the door opened wider as first Guy, then Con, Rhys, and Banan walked in the room.
    Con stood with his hands braced on the footboard while Banan leaned against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. Rhys stoked the fire, his head down.
    Guy sank onto the foot of the bed, the heat of his gaze making her blood burn. She was all too conscious of how close he was, of how easy it would be to lean forward and kiss him again.
    She gripped the blanket and forced her gaze away from Guy’s handsome face.
    “How do you feel?” Con asked.
    She licked her lips and sat up, keenly aware of her hardened nipples scraping against the flannel of the shirt. Longing went through her, longing for Guy’s hands on her body.
    Elena swallowed and pulled the shirt away from her while adjusting her foot atop the pillows. “Better. Did you give me something?”
    “Just aspirin,” Banan said.
    Guy raked a hand through his shoulder-length honey brown locks, disheveling it. “You were exhausted after the events. Your body shut down to rest.”
    It made sense, so she nodded. “I think the swelling has gone down on my ankle.”
    “It appears so,” Con said. “I didna mean to frighten you during our last talk, Elena, but you doona understand how important it is that what we have here remains private.”
    “Nothing stays private in this world,” she argued. “Everyone has cameras on their phones, and video cameras at every street corner and store. Privacy is a thing of the past.”
    “No’ for us,” Rhys said, and set aside the poker as he faced her. “It’s because of the legacy of Dreagan that there are certain…concessions made for us.”
    “Such as?” she asked.
    Banan pushed off the door, his arms dropping to his side. “No planes or helicopters of any kind are allowed to fly over our land. All sixty thousand acres of it.”
    “Why?” It was all she could think to ask. People normally had a no-fly zone when they were hiding something. So what was Dreagan hiding?
    Con looked as if he was searching for the right words before he said, “We need privacy. We open portions of the distillery and the gift shop for visitors with the one road in and one road out. It was made that way for a reason.”
    “And the sheep and cattle? I know you sell them. Who picks them up?” she asked.
    Guy leaned his elbows on his knees. “We take them to sell.”
    “You make it appear as if you’re hiding something.”
    Rhys cracked his knuckles one finger at a time. “Privacy doesna equal hiding. None of us wish to be in the spotlight, and so we ask for one simple request: that all that we are, and where we are, stay private.”
    “But it’s an illusion. Everyone knows where you live. Everyone knows the mansion is behind the distillery.”
    Banan chuckled. “Have you seen pictures of our home before?”
    Elena thought about that a moment. “No, but then again, I haven’t exactly had the need to do a search. There are few things in this world that aren’t on the Internet in some shape or form. And you have to know the government knows all about you.”
    “Hmm,” Con said as he straightened. “An illusion, aye?”
    “If there is one thing about people is that the more you try to keep from them, the more they’re going to want to know about you. They’ll do whatever it takes to find whatever you’re keeping secret.”
    “Is that what you and Sloan were doing?” Rhys asked.
    Her head turned to him as she frowned. “What?”
    “You said yourself, people will do anything to find secrets,” Banan replied.
    “What were you and Sloan doing in