"Ha! Of all the… I'm going now. Good night." She strode toward the tree to retrieve her tote bag. Anger pricked at her. Shame on her. She'd had too much training to get distracted by bulging biceps or a broad chest. Or gorgeous green eyes.

"I owe ye an apology."

She hitched the bag onto her shoulder, ignoring him.

"I doona generally discuss private parts, at least until I've introduced myself first."

She stifled a grin. Something about this man was too appealing. Maybe his accent and kilt made her feel homesick. She'd been in America for only nine months. She glanced at him, and his soft smile tugged at her heart. Shit. She needed to go.

She removed the stake from her belt behind her back and dropped it into the bag. Her nerves tingled, every strand aware that he was watching her closely. Instinct told her to leave, but her curiosity was stronger. Who was this man? And why did he carry a sword?

"I assume you came to town for the parade?"

He paused. "I arrived today."

An evasive answer. "To celebrate or for business?"

The corner of his mouth tilted up. "Are ye curious about me, lass?"

She shrugged. "Professional curiosity. I'm in law enforcement, so I have to wonder why you're carrying a lethal weapon."

His smile grew wider. "Perhaps ye should disarm me."

Her chin went up. "Make no mistake, I could if I needed to."

"And how would ye do that?" He pointed at her bag. "Will ye take on my claymore with yer wee sticks?"

She wasn't about to explain why she was carrying wooden stakes. So she folded her arms across her chest and changed the subject. "How did you get the sword on a plane?

Or through customs?"

He mimicked her move, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why are ye wandering about the park all alone?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "I like to jog. Now it's your turn to answer."