Lethal in a Kilt (Hot Scots Book 7)

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Lethal in a Kilt (Hot Scots Book 7) Page 2

by Anna Durand


  "What is it you think I've done?" he asked.

  "You hired Logan as part of a matchmaking scheme dreamed up by you and Keely." My fingers crooked toward my palms, but I stopped short of fisting my hands. "Maybe once your baby is born, the two of you will stop meddling in my life."

  "I doubt it." He sat up straight, his hands on the desk. "I hired Logan because he's the best man for the job. If you fall in love with him, it won't be my fault."

  Fall for Logan? Had he lost his ever-loving mind?

  "I hate Logan," I said, emphasizing each word by smacking my palms on the desk. "He is the most repulsive, obnoxious man I've ever met."

  "He is a wee bit odd." Evan pushed his glasses up. "But he's not that bad. Give him a chance. You'll be working closely with him, anyway, so you might as well get accustomed to him."

  "Working closely? I have nothing to do with security."

  Evan adopted a look of pure innocence that he could pull off only because he had the face of an angel and the eerie silver eyes of one too. "Logan needs someone to get him settled in here and show him around. I need my most trusted employee to conduct his orientation." He pointed a finger at me. "That's you, Mrs. Carpenter."

  "Yeah, Logan told me as much, but I figured you had to be pulling his leg."

  "I'm not joking." Evan stood, his fingertips resting on the desktop. "You are Logan's liaison for employee orientation and anything he might need after that. I'm counting on you, Serena."

  And he was my boss. I couldn't say no.

  "Yes, sir," I said and spun on my heels, marching out of his office.

  When I sat down at my desk, my gaze wandered to the chair Logan had occupied earlier. The dark-blue jacket he'd worn had accentuated every muscle, and the white dress shirt had clung to his body. The top two buttons, unhooked, had revealed a tempting wedge of skin dusted with dark hairs. I remembered his eyes too, with their warm, golden-brown color.

  My body awakened at the memory, at the vision of his muscular form sprawled in that chair. His casual posture belied the vigilance he always conveyed, like he was on guard at every moment for bad guys who might attack. These days, the focus of his vigilance seemed to be me.

  The idea made me wet. Not because I wanted Logan, but because I'd never been the sole focus of anyone. It had nothing to do with him. Nothing at all.

  I forced myself to concentrate on work, but after twenty minutes, my phone rang. My cell phone, not my work phone. The screen announced, "Chase calling."

  "Hey, honey," I said, answering the call. "What's up?"

  "Aw, Mom," he whined like the teenage boy he was. "Stop calling me stuff like that. I'm not a kid anymore."

  "You're fifteen. That makes you still a kid, and besides, you will always be my kid."

  He grumbled. "Can I go to the store? Keely says they've got a new shipment of games. My friends want to meet me there."

  With my son, "the store" always meant Vic's Electronics Superstore, where Keely worked. She was vice president of the company.

  "Sure," I said, "you can do that. Will you be going anywhere else after?"

  "To get burgers." He paused and added in a long-suffering tone, "Am I allowed to do that?"

  "Yes, honey, you are."

  "Cool." He paused again, but this time he sounded sneaky when he said, "Keely told me Logan's moving here to work for Evan. Guess that means you'll be working with him too. Sounds awesome."

  My son had become infatuated with Logan after their first meeting. Logan was a former secret agent, and that was all it took for a teenage boy to idol-worship him. I'd tried to dissuade Chase from his awe, but there seemed to be nothing I could do about it. My son thought Logan was the coolest guy on the planet.

  Probably because Logan was much nicer to Chase than he was to me, and he never said anything lewd in front of my kid. I supposed I had to thank Logan for that.

  Not likely.

  Keely and Evan had invited Logan to our little dinner party tonight, but I'd had to learn that fact from Logan. I would have to see him this evening, and I'd have to see him tomorrow for his orientation. Hell, I'd be seeing that man every day with my luck. I had no hopes he might stay away from the top floor since this was where his cousin worked. As Evan's executive assistant, I had to be here at this desk five days a week. Shit. Evan had done this on purpose. He hired Logan to push us into each other's orbits, and I had no doubts whatsoever that Keely had conspired with her husband.

  "Mom, you still there?"

  "Yes, but I have to go. Lots of work to do."

  "Guess I'll see you at home." His voice took on that sneaky tone again. "Keely said Logan's coming to dinner tonight."

  "I know. Goodbye, sweetie, I have to get back to work."

  Yes, I hung up on my snickering son. Keely had probably roped him into her plot to meddle in my life. A blissfully happy marriage had turned both her and Evan into a pair of pests.

  A wave of melancholy crashed over me, making me sag into my chair. I'd been that happy once upon a time. So damn happy. Rob Carpenter had been my everything, until our son was born. All I'd needed was the two men in my life. Anything else seemed like icing on the best cake ever. Sure, we'd had problems now and then. No marriage was perfect, but I preferred to focus on the good parts and not dwell on the four tours he'd served in Iraq. I wished he'd never enlisted in the army. I wished...

  Wishes didn't matter. They were wisps of smoke blown away on the breeze.

  My mind started to flash back to the day when I'd been informed of Rob's death in combat. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting against the memory.

  The intercom buzzed.

  I jerked. Wiping tears from my eyes, I punched the intercom button. "What do you need, Evan?"

  "The production reports."

  Damn. He'd asked for those ten minutes before Logan showed up, and I'd forgotten thanks to the aggravation of seeing that infernal man. "I'll email those to you right away."

  I needed a distraction from the memories, but emailing the reports took up all of thirty seconds.

  Rob. His smile. His laugh. The way he used to pick Chase up and spin around and around until Chase was shrieking with glee. How could I ever want to love anyone else? I didn't want to. The fact I'd endured my most vivid flashback in years right after I saw Logan MacTaggart did not mean anything.

  I would never love another man.

  Especially not Logan.

  Chapter Three

  Logan

  I arrived at Keely and Evan's house two hours before the dinner party was set to begin. Since I couldn't move into the apartment Evan had chosen for me until next week, I was stuck in a hotel. Loitering in my room proved too mind-numbingly boring. How long could a person watch bad television shows before he went insane? Though the hotel offered pay-per-view "adult entertainment," I couldn't get interested in that either. My thoughts kept spiraling back to Serena in that skirt, bent over, wrestling with a paper shredder.

  Sometimes, I wished she wasn't such a bitch. I'd enjoy having a poke at her a lot more if I could like the woman, and not just her body. But she insisted on scowling at me, cursing at me, calling me every synonym of the word disgusting. Why did the lass with the most sensual body I'd ever seen have to be a harpy?

  I still planned to fuck her. Once, and only once.

  The house where Evan and Keely lived was enormous. It had two stories, an attached two-car garage, and a large backyard with a patio. I parked my hired car in the drive as Evan had instructed. The cars he and Keely drove were in the garage. At the instant I rang the bell, Evan swung the door open like he'd been waiting for me to arrive.

  Grinning, he slapped my arm. "Glad you came, Logan. Keely's excited to see you again."

  "Your wife saw me yesterday."

  "And she'll be happy to see you again." Evan swung the door open wider and adjusted his glasses. "Come in, Logan."

  I crossed the threshold.

  Evan shut the door and c
lapped a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry. Serena and Chase will be here soon."

  "Am I meant to be excited at the prospect of seeing that witch again? I last saw her spawn at Aunt Aileen's birthday, when he was shoving an entire Scotch egg into his mouth. I hope he's matured since then."

  "Chase is fifteen. So you don't need to worry he'll spit up all over your posh jacket."

  I'd worn a suit without the tie, though a different jacket and shirt than earlier today and with trousers instead of a kilt. "Is there food yet? Or are we required to wait until the evil queen arrives before partaking?"

  Evan sighed and led me through the foyer, past the wide staircase that led to the second floor, and straight through the kitchen onto the patio.

  Keely was reclining on an outdoor chaise, her hands clasped over the top of her very round belly. She had her eyes closed, a delicate smile on her lips. Her raven hair draped over her shoulders.

  "The guest of honor is here," Evan said, moving toward his wife's chair. He perched on its edge beside her and patted Keely's thigh. "Wake up, gràidh."

  He always called her darling or some other endearment in Gaelic. All my married cousins did the same, and all of them had married Americans too.

  Why was I the guest of honor? Evan, who'd once been standoffish, had become the most annoyingly cheerful person in the family. Even our cousin Aidan, previously the king of good humor, had trouble competing for the cheeriness throne these days.

  Keely opened her eyes, smiled sweetly at her husband, and aimed her striking green gaze at me. Her smile broadened. "Logan, I'm so glad you're here."

  She tried to get up, but her husband stopped her. "Logan can come over here to hug you."

  Naturally, Evan had become not only a doting husband but an overprotective one too. Like all the married MacTaggarts of our generation, he wouldn't let his pregnant wife do anything. Unlike the other wives, Keely was over forty, so her husband might've had valid reasons for fussing over her. Pregnancy at that age had more risks. I knew that because, while I was captive in the car with Evan the last time he visited Scotland, he had told me everything I never wanted to know about pregnancy.

  I gave Keely a quick hug.

  She kissed my cheek.

  For the next two hours, I helped Evan set up the banquet, dragging tables out onto the patio and pushing them together to form one long table. We set out the silverware too, along with plates and glasses and everything else. By the time Serena and her child arrived, Evan and I were starting to bring out the food. Serena, who wore a red dress with slim straps and a frilly hem that swished around her knees, helped Keely get up from the lounge chair and take her seat at the head of the table. Evan would sit at the opposite end.

  Serena sat next to Keely.

  When I tried to grab a chair at the other side of the table from Serena, Evan pushed me in the opposite direction. He pointed to the chair next to hers.

  I frowned at him.

  He smiled and gave me a light shove toward the chair.

  "Doesn't Chase want to sit by his mother?" I asked.

  The teenager shook his head. "You should sit by Mom."

  "It was Chase's idea to seat you there," Evan said. "Don't let the lad down."

  Ah, the dirty tricks had begun. My married cousins would do anything, probably even commit felonies, to get me married off next. The American Wives Club, as the Yankee partners of my cousins called themselves, had made me their official mission. Gavin Douglas, the only American man in the lot and my cousin Jamie's husband, had betrayed his gender and sided with the American Wives Club. The head of that group was Emery, the wife of my cousin Rory. The lot of them were spearheading the mission to jam a ring onto the third finger of my left hand.

  That would never happen. As long as they didn't rope my sisters into their scheme, I'd get through it unscathed, and unmarried.

  I watched Chase taking his seat on the other side of the table and then glanced at Evan. "Won't the lad be lonesome over there by himself?"

  "No way," Chase said, grinning. "I'm cool here. Besides, you and Mom can talk easier when you're both over there. Right, Evan?"

  "Yes, definitely," my cousin said, winking at Chase.

  Strategic surrender was my only option. But before I took a seat, I leaned in close to Evan and hissed, "Enough matchmaking."

  "No idea what you're talking about."

  "Pòg mo thòin, Evan."

  "Wouldn't you rather Serena kissed your erse?"

  My ice-cold stare didn't faze him, so I gave up and sat down.

  "So, Logan," Chase said, "were you, like, really a spy? Like James Bond?"

  I opened my mouth but didn't get a chance to speak.

  "Oh please," Serena said. "Nobody in real life is like James Bond. He probably decoded boring messages or something."

  Was she dismissing me as no one of interest? I stiffened and clenched my fists on my lap. "I was a field agent, not a cryptologist. So yes, in a way I was like James Bond."

  Better to have the boy think I was a superhero secret agent than a useless bore. Neither was entirely accurate, but I wouldn't let Serena paint me as a human paperweight who held down a desk for a living.

  She flashed me a sharp look, her lips pinched.

  I moved my hand onto her thigh and gave it a squeeze.

  The bitch shoved my hand away.

  We proceeded to ignore each other throughout dinner, despite valiant attempts by Chase, Evan, and Keely to start a conversation between me and Serena. Once we'd finished the main course, Keely tried to get up, but Evan jumped out of his chair to lay a hand on her shoulder and stay her movement.

  "What are you doing?" he asked.

  "I'm going to help clear the table and clean up."

  "No, you are not. You're pregnant, Keely."

  "Which does not make me an invalid."

  He touched her cheek. "You need to rest, gràidh. I can handle the clean-up."

  "I can help," Serena said.

  Chase pushed his chair back and stood. "Let me do it. You can stay here."

  Serena's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.

  Like she clearly had, I realized the lad was attempting to play matchmaker.

  "That's a wonderful idea," Keely said. She batted Evan's hand away and got to her feet, despite his frown. "Relax, honey. I can dry dishes without straining myself."

  He seemed dubious but nodded anyway.

  What did he expect? He'd married a feisty woman, the sort who would stab a villain if the need arose. He couldn't honestly have believed she would become a loafer because she was having a baby.

  I started to get up, but Evan shook his head. "No, Logan. You're a guest."

  "And so is Chase."

  "Stay where you are."

  With a heavy sigh, I dropped back onto the chair.

  The three matchmakers disappeared into the house.

  Serena glanced at me sideways. "You know what they're doing."

  "Aye. Marriage has made Evan a nutter." I slouched in my chair. "He's become a matchmaker, and he treats his wife like she's made of glass."

  "Evan loves Keely. It's sweet." Serena slouched in her chair, letting out an exasperated sigh. "He went on the internet and read about all the possible pregnancy complications for a woman over forty. Now he's obsessed with making sure Keely does nothing more strenuous than lifting a napkin."

  "Like I said, marriage has made him a nutter."

  "Maybe we should scream at each other over dessert so they'll stop trying to set us up."

  "Aye, and you can claw my eyes out. That ought to set them straight."

  She plucked at the tablecloth absently. "I don't think anything short of murder would convince Evan and Keely to stop trying to shove us together."

  "Your son seems to be in on the conspiracy."

  "Chase thinks I need to get married again." She looked at me sideways, and her lips formed the smallest of smiles. "He thinks you're James
Bond and Superman rolled up in one kilt."

  "Don't think either one of them wore a kilt. I love to wear those, since I have wonderful legs."

  "And such humility too."

  I eyed her sideways. "You do realize we're having a civil conversation."

  "Guess I'd better smack you again. I hate you, remember?"

  The soft tone of her voice didn't convey hatred. Her words had sounded almost sultry.

  My pants grew tight in the groin. I remembered the night she'd smacked me at Aunt Aileen's birthday party in Scotland. I'd asked if she wanted to go into the cloakroom and have a poke. Her response had been one sound slap to the face.

  The memory made my cock twitch.

  I cleared my throat and pushed my chair back, rising to stretch and yawn. "Sitting all evening is making me want a lie-down. Better get a bit of exercise. This yard is large enough for a wee stroll."

  "Yeah, I could use one too." Serena got up and stretched her lithe body. "I'll join you."

  We ambled around the yard for a few minutes without talking. I admired the way her erse moved under her red dress and the way the neckline exposed an enticing glimpse of her cleavage. The second time we passed the oak tree in the farthest corner from the patio, Serena stopped to lean back against the trunk.

  She gazed up at the sky. "What a lovely night it is."

  "Aye, it is bonnie." I let my focus wander down her body, along her slender legs to her ankles that had a sensual curve thanks to her modest heels. "Very bonnie."

  Her attention swerved to me, those gray eyes trained on my face.

  I was staring right back at her, while the blood rushed out of my extremities and straight into my cock. Her lips obsessed me, and all I could think of was how badly I wanted to kiss her.

  As if she'd heard my thoughts, her lips parted. Her breaths seemed to grow heavier, and she flattened her palms on the tree trunk, fingers curling into the bark.

  Kiss her. The need to claim her mouth seized me hard.

  I stalked up to her and slapped my palms on the tree at either side of her head. Her mouth opened just enough to give me a glimpse of her pink tongue. A glimpse was enough. The lust she always inspired in me surged through my body.

 

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