by Geri Krotow
“No.” Halle offered him a shaky smile. “I’m sorry I went off the handle. I should trust you more.”
“No, you shouldn’t. I mean, of course you can trust me, but we’ve only spent a grand total of what, maybe two weeks together? And while bringing you here to meet my family is one way to show you that my intentions are sincere, there’s no reason for you to believe that. It takes time, Halle.”
She looked at him. They were inches apart on the sofa, her warmth a balm to his anxiety over the potential buyout. “My father said that he knew the minute he saw my mother that she was the one. Trust was a part of that.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “Gram says the same about Grandpop. They had over fifty years together. Nothing to sneeze at.”
“And we only have to last a year. At least we have okay chemistry.”
“Okay?” He caressed her bottom lip with his thumb. Making love to her right now would be callous, and he knew that their incredible sex every day this past week might come with dark consequences, but he was tired of living by the rules. It hadn’t kept a hostile bidder from moving in on his stocks, and it hadn’t kept him happy these past several years.
She lifted her lips to his and teased him with a provocative whisper of a kiss. “Maybe a little more than okay.”
He groaned and deepened the kiss, needing her heat to drive away the cold truth of their agreement. Proof that she still reacted to him in a positive way—and yes, damn it, that she trusted him. If not with her life and heart yet, at least with her body.
Chapter 17
The next day, Halle accompanied Alastair to the family headquarters in Glasgow. “Halle, this is Jane, my executive assistant. She’s the person responsible for how smoothly everything runs here at headquarters.”
“Nice to meet you.” Halle extended her hand to the petite redhead.
“Likewise. I’ll leave you both to it, unless you need anything else, Alastair?”
“Not for now. Thanks.” Alastair looked at Halle as Jane left for her desk. “What do you think?”
“This is incredible.” Halle looked at a priceless Édouard Manet in the lobby of Clyde Whiskey and grinned. “I thought you’d have something more Scottish on the walls, or at least something to do with Clyde Whiskey.”
“Gram found that at an auction almost fifty years ago. She used all of her savings at the time, which wasn’t a whole hell of a lot compared to what we’ve accrued to date. If the company goes belly-up, this is our combined nest egg.”
It was more than a nest egg, more than a life’s earnings for most working class folks, but Halle didn’t call him out on it. Nothing about Alastair had ever suggested that he took his financial status or power for granted. He didn’t even fuss about what he ordered off menus, or indulge in what he termed “fancy” coffees like cappuccinos and lattes. He was an English breakfast tea man. Clear and strong.
“And here’s where I spend a lot of my time when I’m in town.” He ushered her out of the reception area and into a modest office that was located adjacent to a smaller office, where Jane sat at her desk.
Alastair’s office was blindingly modern and masculine in its decor. Gleaming glass desk, contemporary shelving, state-of-the-art computers. But nothing over-the-top. He tilted his head, ever so slightly. “You look surprised.”
“I thought you’d have a whiskey keg in here somewhere.”
“It’s a barrel, and there is a more rustic desk at the distillery. The original that my great-great-grandfather used, and every owner until me. When I decided to branch out with global investments, it was time to buy an office space in the city, closer to an international airport.”
He motioned at a chair and she sat down while he took his seat behind the extra-long desk. “I’d love to take you out to the distillery. We could spend an entire day, stay the night in a local bed-and-breakfast or an inn to enjoy the local ambience.”
“You’re telling me that you stay in a regular place without your secret security posse?”
“I don’t have a security detail except for when I’m traveling abroad. I have body guards, yes, because I don’t want to put my family through the unnecessary hell of a kidnapping and the ransom negotiations.”
She didn’t like the idea of Alastair or any of his family in danger. “As much as you’ve said my security needs have changed, so have yours. You’re going to be a father.”
His eyes sparked with awareness. “As if I could forget.” She had a feeling he wasn’t just talking about the baby as his glance lingered over her body. A body that she felt was growing more curves each day.
“Don’t you think you need to ramp up the security here? If I’d been alone I feel like I would have been able to walk right in off the street.” She wandered around the room, needing a distraction from the sexy dance her hormones were doing.
“There’s more security here than meets the eye. We have state-of-the-art technology. We don’t keep anything valuable here save for my backup files, which are stored on servers in remote locations.”
“So that’s your backup?” Her firm in Austin had had duplicate and even triplicates.
“The cloud, or my version of it, with multiple iterations.”
It was her turn to stare at him. “I suppose there’s ‘your’ version of everything.”
“There’s always been a Buchanan way of doing business. We pride ourselves on quality over quantity, forethought over crisis. Unfortunately, in a business our size, it often feels as though we’re reinventing the wheel with each new iteration of technology. I have to ensure no one else can copy our security plans, not exactly, anyway. All of our computer software programs are proprietary, of course, from our website and social media to our financial records to the centuries-old whiskey recipe. If we used any software ‘off the shelf’ we’d be fools.”
“I understand, and not just because I worked for a large corporation before coming back to Bluewood. At my small level, I’m competing against every other ranch that’s trying to stay alive these days. I make sure I’m aware of what my competition is doing, but stay with what works best for my business.”
“I hope you never regret what you’ve done to ensure the ranch survives.” Alastair’s guarded posture indicated he might be worried that she’d come after him later. After the baby was born, after she’d put Bluewood back up on its feet. After they’d divorced.
“I can’t regret anything that will provide for my—our—baby. That’s a given. As for actually getting married instead of a simple business negotiation?” She waited, made sure he was looking at her. “No, I can’t regret that, either. You were right. Our child deserves more.”
Jane rushed into the office, her previously professional demeanor shattered with flushed cheeks. “I’m sorry, Alastair, but there’s a security alert on your estate property that needs your attention.”
“At home?” Alastair didn’t question Jane’s interruption, and alarm clenched Halle’s stomach. The nausea that had been at bay reared and she sat down.
She remained quiet as Alastair’s fingers flew over his keyboard, Jane at his side, speaking quietly.
“There, in the second quadrant, third camera.” Jane pointed to the grainy image that Alastair had brought up on the center display. The other two screens were filled with video feeds of what Halle recognized as the family estate. She spotted her favorite woods and the view that expanded out over the western hills.
Her stomach lurched when she saw the intruder. A man, dressed in dark clothing, scaling the perimeter wall that surrounded Alastair’s parents’ home.
“Did the local authorities get him?”
“They did, but then he was released. He was found by your grandmother after he’d entered. The security guards were right behind him, but not before he spoke to her while she was in her garden. He asked her if you wer
e around to speak to. The guards escorted him off the property and took him to the station. He told the constable that he was hiking and had wandered in.”
“What was his name?”
Jane looked at her electronic tablet. “Samuel MacGuire. Irish passport.”
“That sounds familiar.” Alastair frowned and he clacked on his keys again. Halle was enthralled by how intense, how focused he was. She’d only seen him like this when she’d been in danger, or in bed.
“There it is. Get the authorities on the line. That’s one of the pseudonyms for the corporations who have been purchasing my stocks in huge numbers.” His eyes were on Halle and she leaned in over his desk.
“He wouldn’t have been stupid enough to use his own name?” Halle’s mind raced. “But no one knows who Livia Colton meant to leave her cash to or where it went. Do you think this is him? Or worse, someone representing her, if she’s somehow survived?”
Alastair nodded. “We may have located our bad guy, and maybe even Livia Colton’s heir.”
* * *
It had been the closest he’d come to failure since working for his boss. When the idiot who called himself the local constable had interrogated him he’d been sure he’d earned a one-way ticket to a Scottish jail. Fortunately the source he’d utilized for his passport and associated fake IDs had done his job and he’d been released.
Now to tell the boss.
“This better be good to risk exposure from overseas.” The words weren’t as harsh as his boss’s tone, which was deadly calm.
“Don’t pay attention to any reports you see or read. We’re still good to go with our big picture plan.”
“What the hell does that mean? Now what have you screwed up?”
“Nothing—I didn’t get into the house as planned but I came close enough to shake them up.” Briefly, and in as few words as possible, he outlined what had happened, emphasizing that he’d gotten past some of the best technology on the market today. He reluctantly admitted his arrest but made sure his boss understood he’d been let go without any charges filed, all under his assumed identity. They were safe; the plan was intact.
“I’m in a commercial jet on the tarmac of Dublin airport, new passport. We’re headed for the runway and takeoff in five minutes.” He looked around at his fellow passengers in coach. The boss wasn’t big on spending for luxury travel.
“Try not to screw up anything else before you get back to Shadow Creek.”
“You don’t have to worry. This was a one-time error.” And it wasn’t his fault, not really. He’d been given the wrong details on Buchanan’s security setup. What a waste of money the guy he’d bribed in Glasgow had been. No matter. He’d sent the informant to the bottom of a deep loch, unavailable to corroborate any other witnesses to his bungled break-in attempt. One thing he prided himself on was no loose ends.
“I’ll decide what I’m going to worry about. Just remember that you work for me. There is no ‘we’ in this. Your next mistake is your last.” The line went dead and he powered his phone off as the flight attendant walked by. He didn’t need any more trouble, that was for sure.
His boss was always in a pissed-off mood, so he was used to being treated like a speck of dirt. Fine, for now. What he was about to do to Halle Ford Buchanan and her unborn kid would erase any bad impressions his boss had of him. And make them both rich enough to disappear for the rest of their lives—together, because he was going to make sure there was no other way for it to go off.
“Blanket?” A young attendant who looked like she’d love a tumble held out the plastic-wrapped amenity.
“There’s other ways to stay warm.” Her eyes narrowed at his comment and he made sure to give her his most charming smile as he accepted the cheap afghan. She moved on without further comment and he couldn’t take the grin off his face. Once he had the money he wanted, no woman, young or old, would refuse him.
* * *
“I’m sorry, Alastair. He had a legit passport and we had no reason to keep him any longer. He seemed pleasant enough, though I know that’s no comfort when he was in your Gram’s cabbage patch.”
“No, it’s not.” He wanted to be angry with Kip Nelson but his childhood friend and university classmate was sincere. “It’s not your fault, Kip. You had no idea about the surveillance footage. None of us did—even my security detail missed it the first go-round.”
“That’s a little concerning, as that indicates he may have insider information or be highly technically trained. He may have frozen the feeds in your security office on-site.”
“Not impossible but definitely improbable.” Alastair knew his security detail and the system they used. It was nearly foolproof.
Kip let out a long sigh. “Times have changed, Alastair. It takes an experienced criminal mere seconds to do something like this.”
“Why was he on my property?”
“Why not? To prove he could do it, to show off to friends or even the world if he intends to put it out there on social media. Or the worst option...” Kip obviously didn’t want to have to say it.
“It was a practice run.”
“Yes. But as I told you when you first called in, he’s well on his way to Ireland, as his passport cleared customs not an hour after he left here. Anything changed with you since we did our yearly walk-through?” Kip’s eyes were on Alastair. He looked relaxed but Alastair knew the man and understood every nuance of his demeanor was being recorded.
“I’ve recently married. And...and my wife is pregnant. But it’s all private, for now. We haven’t made any official announcements.” He didn’t deserve to feel as thrilled, as excited about the declaration as he was. He wasn’t a real husband to Halle. Certainly he wasn’t protecting her the way he felt a real husband should.
“Congratulations! That’s wonderful. Truly.”
“But?”
“You know the ‘but.’ The bull’s-eye on your family just increased twofold. Exponentially, really, since your child will be a kidnapper’s dream.”
Alastair’s insides couldn’t be more torn up than if Kip had sucker punched him. “If I could rethink my earnings, my company—”
“Hey now, none of that, man. You’ve earned your resources fair and square.” Kip reflected the local pride in the Buchanan rags-to-riches story. A downtrodden old whiskey distillery, due to foreclose, had been turned around by Alastair to provide thousands of jobs for the economy. “There are always going to be bad folks out there, Alastair. It’s inevitable. Trust us to do our job. We’ll keep the area safe for you. You keep your security detail up-to-date on the latest tools of the trade, okay?”
“Will do.” He and Kip caught up on a few more family details before Alastair stood to go home. To Halle. He’d sent her back to the estate with his driver earlier, after Kip had told him the intruder was out of the country. Fear wound around his throat and closed tightly. Everyone thought Livia Colton was dead, but he’d seen evidence to the contrary. How could he be certain that this man posing as Samuel MacGuire would stay in Ireland? Was this truly MacGuire, or an imposter?
And had “MacGuire” ever been to Shadow Creek, Texas?
Chapter 18
“We’re flying back to Shadow Creek tomorrow.” Alastair made the pronouncement minutes after he returned home from the police station. Alarm shot through Halle. Not at the prospect of going home, but at Alastair’s grim demeanor. He was a man possessed.
“I thought we were going to stay here for a full week? It’s about the break-in, isn’t it?”
He ignored her as he made them a pot of ginger tea. “You look green around the gills, Halle.”
“Answer my questions, and maybe I won’t feel so sick.”
“Is it the morning sickness again?” She felt a warm, strong hand on hers as she stared out his home office window. The rolling green
of Scotland didn’t look a bit like the Texas hills but it offered her the same comfort. And disbelief that someone had tried to intrude upon this serenity.
“A bit, but also vertigo. I’m prone to it. The doctor mentioned it could be part of the pregnancy sickness.” Alastair’s decision to take them back to Shadow Creek so quickly wasn’t helping. She leaned back on the leather swivel chair, staring at the horizon in an effort to settle her stomach.
“Here.” The scent of Alastair’s aftershave mingled with the smell of the ginger beverage and she closed her eyes as she grasped the porcelain mug.
“Thank you. You seem to be doting on me an awful lot. Shouldn’t I be the one doing this, to keep my billionaire husband?” Her eyes sought his as she took her first sip and the fleeting hurt that crossed his features before he resumed his in-charge attitude stunned her.
“Of course you should be doted on. You’re almost four months pregnant. It’s time for you to stop caring for everyone else and take care of yourself.”
“Alastair, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest I’d roped you into this arrangement.” She winced at the rodeo pun.
“I don’t enter into any contract unless I want to, Halle. Never doubt that marrying you was exactly what I wanted.”
For the baby.
She forced her gaze away from him and allowed the soothing tea to work its magic. “How did I live without ginger tea before now?”
He was silent and she didn’t, couldn’t, meet his gaze. And see the turmoil in his.
“We’re going back to Texas because you’re right. You need your routine, and it’s important that you’re settled and ready for the baby to arrive where it will spend most of its time.”
“Glad you figured that out.” Was he going to time her showers, too?
“Halle, you will still be running the ranch—but at a more steady pace. I expect you to use the funds available to the business to hire more hands and at least one personal assistant.” He’d given her access to the money via a joint account effective the day they were married.
