“It was nothing,” she said unconvincingly, her hand coming up to rest against Michael’s chest as if she might soothe him. Her fingers splayed against his chest, small caresses meant to reassure him.
Ian watched in fascination at the silent exchange that followed. Michael, wrapping himself around her protectively; Maggie, snuggling in and calming him. For a few minutes, they were oblivious to everything except each other.
“So tell me. Do I have to kill him?” Michael finally said, making her chuckle.
“No. I think Ian scared him enough for one day.”
“Thank God he was there, Maggie.”
“I could have handled it.”
Michael kissed the top of her forehead and said, “My fierce tigress. But I worry about you, Maggie.”
Maggie melted into him, while Ian looked at Michael with something akin to hero worship. If it had been him, he would have reinforced how bad of an idea it was to allow herself to be put in such an undesirable situation in the first place. But Michael was a genius. He called her fierce and managed to convey his concern without pissing her off. He’d have to remember that one.
“I know,” she sighed, but there was no trace of the irritation she’d harbored earlier. “I didn’t check to see who it was before I opened the door; I just assumed it was Ian coming to pick me up. He said he just wanted to talk to me for a few minutes. I should have known Ian wouldn’t have knocked; he would have just barged right in.” From the protection of her husband-to-be’s arms, she shot Ian a scathing glance, but the twinkle in her eye neutralized the effect.
“What did he want to talk to you about?”
Maggie frowned. “I’m not sure exactly. We didn’t really get around to that.”
“What happened, Maggie?”
* * *
Maggie glanced at Ian, wondering just how much he’d told Michael. Given Michael’s relative calm, probably not all of the details. Ian earned back a couple of merit points for that.
“Spencer was just being Spencer. I shouldn’t have let him get to me.” Maggie guided Michael’s hand to the soft swell of her belly, barely noticeable beneath the loose sweater she wore. “I’m going to blame it on hormones.”
“All the more reason to be cautious, sweetheart. Promise me you’ll be more careful. If he tries to contact you again, I want to know about it immediately.”
“Okay, but I don’t think he will.” No, she was pretty sure he wouldn’t. She’d humiliated him twice; he wasn’t going to give her a third opportunity. Once again a feeling of unease took hold – the same one she’d been trying to shake ever since Spencer had arrived on her door earlier that morning.
Whatever the purpose of his visit had been, it was lost now. Maybe it had been as innocuous as a simple visit to see how she was doing and things just getting out of hand. It wasn’t totally impossible, however improbable. A more likely explanation was that Spencer was going to make another attempt at gaining her land before her marriage. Once they were wed, the property would become Michael’s as well, and Spencer had to know that as unlikely as it would be to convince Maggie to sell, it would be impossible to go up against the Callaghans.
She explained as much to Michael. He admitted it was possible, as did Ian, but neither seemed wholly convinced.
“He’s jealous, that’s all,” Maggie concluded, hoping to convince herself as much as them. “He doesn’t like to lose.”
* * *
“You’re probably right,” Michael said, pulling her close to him and rubbing her back gently. Looking over the top of her head, he caught Ian’s gaze. Unspoken words passed between them. Ian nodded in understanding.
“Come on, love,” Michael said, rising, but keeping his arm protectively around Maggie. “Spencer Dumas doesn’t deserve any more of our attention today. Let’s go home. You can tell me all about what you and Taryn came up with today.”
Maggie gave him a blank look.
“Weren’t you going to meet with the florist today after Lexi’s?”
Maggie threw a desperate look at Taryn, whose expression was way too blank for his liking.
“Maggie.” His tone was soft steel. Maggie tried to take a step back, but his arms were like iron bars loosely caging her in. The most Maggie could do was wriggle a bit; escape was not an option.
Taryn was already slipping toward the door. “And you - ” Michael pinned his gaze on Taryn and spoke the command so sharply she obeyed instantly “ – stay right where you are.”
Both women tried desperately to look innocent and failed miserably.
“Want to tell me what you ladies were up to today?” Michael’s voice was forcibly calm.
“No, not really,” Taryn said almost immediately, offering a quick smile. Maggie shook her head in silent agreement. Both women seemed to find their shoes suddenly fascinating.
Who knows how long the game might have continued if Jake hadn’t walked in at the moment, oblivious to the warning signs Taryn tried to flash him.
“So,” Jake said, smiling. “How’d the tat come out?”
Ian coughed, probably in an attempt to stifle his laugh, but it came out more like a choking sound. Michael’s normally implacable expression was frozen somewhere between shock and disbelief, his mouth hung partially open. Taryn slipped behind her large husband, making sure he was in between her and Michael. Maggie was cornered, biting her lower lip even while managing to suffuse her obvious anxiety with a touch of defiance.
“You got a tattoo?” he growled, abandoning any previous effort to keep his voice calm. Ian snorted, then looked away.
“Yes.” Maggie spoke softly. Her eyes were large and wide as Michael pinned her.
“She was awesome,” Taryn piped up. “She never even flinched, even when he - ” Michael’s laser-like eyes swiveled in her direction. Jake quietly pushed Taryn behind him, managing to cover her mouth as he did so.
Michael turned back to Maggie. “Why, Maggie?”
Maggie straightened her shoulders slightly, stood a little taller. That put her face to face with his collarbone, so she tilted her head upward bravely. “Because I am going to be your wife.”
Michael searched her face, saw the resolve, the pride beneath her fear of his disapproval. “Taryn says that everyone in your family wears the crest,” she continued before she lost her courage. “That it’s a symbol of the love and loyalty you have for one another. I – I wanted to be part of that, too.”
No one was laughing anymore. Maggie’s eyes were bright with moisture.
“Show him, Maggie.” Taryn spoke softly, nothing but a disembodied voice from somewhere behind Jake’s massive frame.
Maggie carefully lifted her sweater above her head, leaving only the silky camisole beneath. She angled her body away from his, revealing the stark engraving behind her right shoulder. The Callaghan Family crest, complete with Michael’s custom caducis. Beneath the medical symbol lie a perfect rose, the traditional symbol of a Callaghan bride. The whole design was framed by intricate Celtic knots.
Michael reached out, his fingers lightly skimming the edges of the cellophane bandage. Words failed him. It was ... beautiful. Somehow the artist had managed to take the masculine crest and transform it into something inherently female. Feminine, yet powerful, it cradled the rest within it.
Ian whistled as he leaned over the bar to get a closer look. “He outdid himself this time.”
“Tiny?” Michael asked, his voice rough. Tiny ran a tattoo and piercing shop over in Birch Falls; he had been handling the family ink for as long as they could remember.
“You think I’d trust her with anyone else?” Taryn scoffed.
“It’s exquisite.”
Taryn smiled. “I know, right? I liked it so much, I made him vamp up mine, too.” She smiled brightly, lifting her shirt to show off hers as well. “After all, we Callaghan women have to stick together.”
A familiar hunger lit Jake’s eyes as they took in the recent artwork. “Ian. Watch the bar, man. Taryn and I have so
mething to discuss.” Without another word, Jake took her hand and led her from the room so quickly Taryn was forced to jog to keep up with his long strides.
“Talking, my ass,” Ian mumbled, but Maggie and Michael didn’t hear him.
“Yeah,” Michael said, his voice husky and an odd expression on his face as he helped her pull her sweater back on. “Maggie and I have some things to do, too.” Murmuring words of thanks to Ian, he led her from the Pub and into the Jag.
* * *
Maggie wasn’t quite sure what to think. Was he angry with her for getting the tattoo? She had wanted it to be a surprise, a permanent expression of her love for him.
Michael remained unusually quiet for the ride home. He kept his eyes focused on the road, but every now and then he’d glance her way, his expression unreadable. Maggie wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but couldn’t bring herself to do so. The only time she’d ever seen him like this was when something was really bothering him, or when he was really pissed. She remained quiet, trying to quell the nervous wriggling in her belly.
He parked the car. She followed him into the house. The second they were inside the door he pinned her against the wall, his expression as fierce as she had ever seen it. Seconds later his mouth came down on hers, hot and hungry yet infinitely tender.
“Mine,” he growled, and a bolt of pure heat shot through her.
Michael pulled away only long enough to relieve her of her clothes, then took her right there by the door.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The fact that Spencer Dumas was up to something became clear a few days later when Lexi was called unexpectedly into a meeting with her longtime friend and business partner, Aidan Harrison. It was unusual for him to summon her, especially when he knew she was busy planning the evening’s specialty menu.
Lexi did have a private office right next to Aidan’s, but she was rarely in it, preferring to remain in the kitchens with the staff while Aidan oversaw the day to day business operations. Lexi was the “phantom” partner – the silent talent behind the unprecedented success of the menu, the one who shunned publicity regularly and whose loyal, devoted staff protected her fiercely.
Several times throughout the day Aidan tended to find his way down to her to discuss whatever needed to be discussed, to sample the day’s creations, to just spend time with Lexi. He did everything he could to keep her away from all of the ugliness of the business, letting her focus on what she did best: namely, creating their unique culinary offerings, and keeping Aidan grounded and in touch with the staff. They knew every one of their employees by their first names, knew the names of their spouses and children, and treated them like family. For as elaborate and high-brow as the Celtic Goddess appeared from the outside, within it was all very casual and informal, a close-knit family that worked together remarkably well.
She was therefore quite surprised when she received the rather formal request at the hand of Aidan’s personal assistant, a very efficient woman with sharp eyes and short hair and a heart of gold. Discarding her chef’s coat, she smoothed down her cotton blouse, swapping her rubber-soled black Reeboks for a pair of slip-on gold sandals. With her faded blue jeans – standard attire for Lexi – and partially-freed multi-hued golden hair she looked more like a teenager than a world-renowned chef.
“Thanks for joining us, Lex,” Aidan said when she entered the office. He was, as always, impeccably dressed in a dark, tailored designer ensemble, though Lexi always told him he’d look just as good in Levi’s and boots instead of his Dior slacks and Bruno Magli shoes. He stood and tried to bite back a smile as he discreetly wiped a smudge of flour from her cheek with his thumb.
“Lex, this is Spencer Dumas. Mr. Dumas, allow me to introduce Alexis Kattapoulos, the heart and soul of the Celtic Goddess.”
Lexi blinked questioningly at Aidan’s deliberate use of her maiden name. She’d taken Ian’s name upon their marriage, and literally glowed whenever anyone referred to her as ‘Mrs. Callaghan’. Though his manner was outwardly pleasant she caught the warning undercurrent in his eyes.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Dumas,” Lexi said politely. She’d heard the name often enough lately – and usually not in a complimentary way. Never having met him herself, she was a bit curious.
He didn’t look anything like she would have expected. Instead of the cutthroat, high-brow businessman she had envisioned, the man who stood before her looked like the boy next door. The boy next door in a two-thousand dollar, custom-tailored suit, anyway.
“And you, Ms. Kattapoulos. I must say, you are nothing like I envisioned.” His voice, too, was deceptive, as was the slight hint of a dimple that revealed itself with his disarming smile.
While Lexi was trying to decide whether that was a compliment or an insult, he added smoothly, “You are even more beautiful than I imagined. Only now do I feel I have a better appreciation for the inspiration behind the Celtic Goddess.”
In a gallant gesture, he took Lexi’s hand and kissed it lightly. “I must say, I am a great fan of your magnificent creations.”
“You are too kind, Mr. Dumas,” Lexi said, blushing slightly.
Over the top of Spencer’s bowed head she looked questioningly at Aidan, who was watching the scene with genuine amusement. No doubt he was imagining what would happen to Spencer Dumas if Lexi’s husband was witnessing this. Ian was very protective of what was his, and to Ian, Lexi was everything.
Outside of family, Aidan was probably the only other male on the planet permitted within her personal space, and even that was questionable at times. He was tolerated because one, Aidan had saved Lexi’s life on more than one occasion, and two, because Aidan was her best friend, and Lexi would have it no other way.
“Mr. Dumas has brought some very interesting information to our attention, Lex,” Aidan prompted.
“Ah, yes,” said Spencer, releasing Lexi’s hand somewhat reluctantly. She didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered upon her fingers, subtly checking for the presence of a ring. Lexi never wore her bands while cooking anymore, not since she accidently lost one in several pounds of croissant dough that the staff spent the better part of an hour pulling apart. She guessed – correctly – that Spencer was adjusting his ‘presentation’ based on her marital status.
“I know your time is precious, so I’ll get right to the point. I understand the Celtic Goddess is interested in forming a business venture to procure locally-grown organic produce.”
Lexi flashed a look at Aidan, then back to Spencer. He could only be referring to the deal they were trying to put together with Maggie. Legal was still working out the details; nothing had been officially announced.
“I wasn’t aware that was public knowledge, Mr. Dumas.”
Spencer smiled, flashing several of his perfect white teeth. “I do not believe that it is, Ms. Kattapoulos.”
“Mr. Dumas is well connected in the local business community,” Aidan explained, pulling out a chair for her.
Lexi hoped she looked suitably impressed. “Do you hold such property, Mr. Dumas?”
He smiled confidently. “Not yet, Ms. Kattapoulos. And please, call me Spencer.” Lexi offered a demure and encouraging smile, but made no such offer to him in return. She’d dealt with enough like him to know that they were disappointed if she didn’t offer at least a slight challenge.
“The Flynn property is of particular interest to Dumas Industries,” Aidan said casually, but Lexi knew him well enough to hear the warning in his voice. As handsome and smooth as Aidan was, Lexi always said no one ever saw the danger before it was too late.
“Ah, Mr. Dumas – Spencer – I do hope this does not mean we will be competing against one another.”
His eyes glittered. “Not at all. What I propose is a collaboration, not a competition.”
Lexi nodded, wondering where this could possibly be going. She sat back in her chair, taking her time crossing one leg over the other. The flash of gold caught Spencer’s eye for a moment. Lexi forg
ot she was wearing the gold and diamond anklet Ian had gotten her for Valentine’s Day, resembling something a belly dancer might wear. It was one of Ian’s favorite pieces. Apparently other men found it enticing as well.
“Please, continue,” she coaxed.
Spencer’s gaze snapped upward. “My sources tell me you are attempting to create an agreement with the current caretaker of the property, Magdalena Flynn, by which you contract for the fruits of the land, but not the property itself.”
“Your sources are quite well informed.”
He inclined his head in acknowledgement.
“But I fail to see of what interest this is to you.” She allowed some of her Greek grandmother’s accent into her words, intuitively playing the role Spencer expected to see.
“Beauty, talent, and intelligence,” Spencer mused. “What a lethal combination. How do you stand it, Mr. Harrison?”
Aidan beamed beside her. “She brings out the best in me, Mr. Dumas,” he answered sincerely. “Demands it of me repeatedly, in fact.” His lips quirked as she shot him an amused glance, as if they shared a private joke.
Spencer smiled knowingly at the inference, at the veiled warning. “Then you are a lucky man, indeed, Mr. Harrison.” His manner lost some of its flirtatiousness then, though it didn’t seem to detract from his perfectly manicured charm.
“To be quite honest, I would like to create a similar association between the Celtic Goddess and Dumas Industries.”
“Forgive me, but I do not understand. You do not own the land, Mr. Dumas – Spencer.”
“A temporary situation, I assure you. Let us just say that I am preparing the path for what will be.”
Lexi arched a perfect brow and looked questioningly at Aidan before turning her attention back to Dumas with a gentle smile. “I must admit, Spencer, you have piqued my interest. Can you tell us more?”
Spencer’s eyes sparkled, more than a little pleased with Lexi’s interest. “I’m sure you will understand that I cannot go into specifics just yet, Ms. Kattapoulos. Dumas Industries has not become the successful business it is by giving away all of its secrets prematurely.”
House Calls: Callaghan Brothers, Book 3 Page 20
