He was worried about McWalton being in the city, but he was more worried that he’d contemplated not telling his cousins, letting it go. He knew better, that somehow they would find out and there would be hell to pay for not informing them. His motives hadn’t been to spare his cousins. It had been because of Phoebe.
He didn’t trust her. She was English. She didn’t particularly like him, and he didn’t particularly like her. But his cousins knew nothing of his personal motives. That while he would order them to investigate, he didn’t want her to be connected to McWalton. Not for the sake of their project, but because he wanted her. There was a point, one small moment, when he thought of not telling them of the altercation with McWalton. He wanted no one to make the connection, no one to think ill of Phoebe.
And that, he thought, was more worry than any curse or bastard laird.
* * * *
Phoebe powered down her laptop and realized she shouldn’t have skipped dinner. It was nine at night, and the last meal she had eaten was around ten that morning. She didn’t count the candy bar she had around three as a meal. It had been a sorry substitute for afternoon tea, but she’d taken the coward’s way out instead of facing any of the cousins. Upon returning from Edinburgh, she wanted nothing more than to be alone to think. And they hadn’t been pleasant thoughts.
She’d left the shop with a gift for her mother, but she’d given up on Mr. McWalton. She only had a small amount of time to meet with him undetected, and what a bloody mess that had been. Callum in the very shop where she was to meet McWalton. Shaken from the incident, she bought the gift and bolted after waiting for five minutes. Something was bothering her. Her instincts told her McWalton wasn’t being completely truthful with her. Of course he wasn’t. But every time she thought about him or the situation, there was a sick gnawing in her belly. She’d decided to avoid him and turned off her phone because she knew McWalton would call. She needed time to contemplate just what the hell the man was up to.
Her stomach growled, and she frowned. Maybe she was just hungry. Belvidore had shown up at her door at five to six, but she had sent him away. She didn’t have the diary, but she had her notes, and she needed to do some research. At the start of each new project, she always had this surge of excitement, and she’d learned long ago not to ignore it. There was also the need to get a break from Callum.
As she snuck down the hall, she thought of the last week, of Callum’s ominous presence and the effect he had on her. She didn’t particularly like men like him, workaholics with too much self-importance. But she wanted to be there with him, even if he had barely spoken to her since giving her the diary. Granted, she probably wouldn’t have paid much attention, so engrossed in the code she was deciphering, but every now and then she felt an itch at the base of her neck. She was sure he was watching her. Most every time she glanced at him, he’d been immersed in his own work. It made her self-aware in a way she’d never been before.
It had to be her imagination. He didn’t trust her. That much he had proven today at the shop. Still, her reaction was over the top. Each time she thought he was looking at her, her whole body lighted up like New Year’s Eve in London. And, all the while, she’d been thinking how good he must look without his shirt. Hell, she was wondering how good he would look completely naked.
Damn, after this project, she needed to get a life. Or at least have sex.
Phoebe turned a corner and ran into a rather large male body. Whoever he was laughed and stepped back. Angus’s clever green eyes sparkled with humor as he looked down at her.
“And where are you sneaking off to?”
Heat crept to her face. “I skipped dinner while I worked in my room. I just realized I was hungry.”
“I thought you worked all day with Callum?”
“I don’t work with Callum.” She frowned as she realized her voice was sharper than she intended. “I was doing research on old languages. I wanted to be sure I was translating them correctly.”
“Hmm, so you thought to raid the icebox? Looking for a belly washer?”
She frowned, and he laughed.
“An ale. It means an ale.”
“Well…”
“There I go, bumpin’ me gums.” He’d broadened his accent, thickening his brogue. “You know you’re going the wrong way? Come on.”
He offered her his arm, and she accepted. By the time they reached the empty kitchen, she was at ease again. It was impossible to stay tense around Angus. He helped her assemble a plate of berries, cheese, and bread. While she munched, Angus rummaged around a cupboard.
“Do you normally skulk around the hallways at night?” she asked.
He tossed her a grin over his shoulder. “When I have need for something sweet.” He winked then returned his attention to the cupboard. “Ahh, Ada thought to hide them, I suspect. She’s always seen herself in the role of mother rather than cook.”
As she watched him, she wondered why she couldn’t be attracted to him the way she was Callum. The friendly cousin was definitely more her type. They shared many of the same interests. There was a core of goodness about him that told her he would never cheat, never lie.
When he turned, he was holding a blue tin that had seen better days. He opened it and pulled out a cookie. “She makes the most divine shortbread. It’s a weakness of mine.” As he downed his second—or was it his third—he poured himself a glass of milk. “She’s worried that I eat too many.”
“I don’t think you need to worry about putting on any weight.”
“There is that. Ada is just a hen who has to cluck.” He downed a healthy swallow of milk then asked, “Did you find anything interesting in the diary?”
She nodded. “Some, but it’s confusing. They used several different languages, and I’m not fluent in all of them. I detected some Cornish in there. That was easy enough. And Old English and Old French.”
“Oh, give over.”
Smiling she said, “All right. First, your cousin is correct. It’s from a family of witches. There are a few things mentioned, several families in the area—you know it’s from Inverness?” She waited for his nod. “It deals with various…ah…work they did.”
“Work? Spells?”
“Spells, curses, along with the regular medicinal remedies. There are a few different recipes. I’ve gotten some of the passages translated, but they are missing words I can’t translate, so I need to do some more research.”
Angus laughed and joined her at the table, stuffing yet another cookie in his mouth before he offered her one. “And isn’t that the best feeling in the world?”
She accepted one, but didn’t eat it right away. Feeling a kinship she hadn’t felt since she’d discovered her husband’s duplicity, she sighed. It had been a long time since she could share her love of research.
“It is. I realize that this may not be that important to the world at large, but to think I’m reading the words of someone from centuries ago…” She shivered. “It’s almost better than sex.”
Angus’s eyes twinkled, but before he could respond, Callum’s cold voice lashed out at the two of them. “Isn’t this cozy?”
* * * *
Callum flexed his fingers, fury burning in his blood, urging him to tear every limb from Angus’s body. Never in his life had he felt the need to hurt one of his own. It had been his job to protect them, to build a safe world in which they could survive. But seeing Angus sitting in a darkened kitchen so close to Phoebe ignited a blood lust Callum hadn’t felt in years…if ever.
Angus smiled at him. “Phoebe and I were just commiserating over our love of research.”
“Really?”
He hadn’t heard that. What he did hear was his cousin and Phoebe blithely discussing sex. He spared the woman in question a glance, and from her wide-eyed look, he knew she’d picked up on his anger. When he looked at his cousin, Callum realized that if Angus did, he didn’t give a damn. The sod was smiling.
“Angus, if you would give me a moment a
lone with Dr. Chilton, I would appreciate it,” he said between clenched teeth.
Angus’s eyebrows rose and then lowered as his eyes became dark with anger and promised retribution. When Angus turned to Phoebe, his expression was placid once again.
“It was nice chatting,” Angus said to Phoebe. Then he tossed a warning glance in Callum’s direction before picking up his tin and leaving them alone.
A silence enveloped the kitchen, but he didn’t move to fill it. He was too busy trying to control his temper and ignore his lust. He needed to think of the right words to say, to make sure she understood he needed her away from his family. He was still uneasy about seeing McWalton in Edinburgh. Still, he didn’t want to push her too far away. If he did that, she might not talk to him.
And just when did he start sounding like a lad barely out of short pants? The answer was easy. The day Phoebe Chilton walked into his office. Being in her presence was horrible, painful. But the thought of not seeing her had him in a near panic.
“I assure you nothing untoward was going on,” Phoebe said.
When he didn’t respond, she sighed and stood. He watched her move to the sink. It wasn’t until that moment that his head cleared enough to notice she wasn’t wearing one of her ugly suits. Even in the darkened kitchen, he could tell the long-sleeved t-shirt was the color of her eyes. The smooth fabric draped over her generous breasts. Her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders. She no longer looked like the ball breaker. Soft, round, and entirely too enticing.
He curled his fingers into his palms, trying to quell the urge to touch, caress.
With economical movements, she cleaned up her dish, leaving it in the sink. He watched, his blood humming. It was making him bloody mental. He wanted her in his bed, but he also knew he needed to keep her separate from his family. There had to be a way to keep her from his cousins, especially Angus. She could be dangerous, in more ways than one. He didn’t trust her, probably never would, although, until today, she hadn’t behaved the least bit suspicious. She had been working quietly, showing up early each morning, never once complaining that he kept everything under lock and key. But every now and then he would catch her with one of the cousins, chatting as if they were the best of friends.
“I want you to stay away from Angus. He doesn’t need you leading him on.”
She blinked. “You think I was trying to seduce your cousin?”
He said nothing, letting the silence speak for him.
“I assure you, I wasn’t trying to seduce Angus. I wouldn’t even know how to begin.” She was turning to leave when she said, “I know that you dislike me.”
“It isn’t that I don’t like you. I don’t trust you.”
She paused and turned to face him. “Don’t worry. I get that—loud and clear. You made sure I knew that the first day I met you.”
“I have no reason to trust you.”
She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. “There’s something more.”
“Does the name Kenneth McWalton mean anything to you?” The moment he said the words, he wanted to call them back, afraid of her answer.
She didn’t so much as twitch. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I think I would know if I met someone.” She cocked her head to the side and studied him as if he were a bug. “Can you tell me exactly what you think I can or cannot do to your family?”
“I don’t like coincidences.”
“And that’s an explanation?” She raised her hand to prevent his answer. Truly, he didn’t have an answer. The questions she asked made him feel uncomfortable. “You’re suspicious by nature. Most businessmen I know have a touch of it. You are over the top, especially when it comes to your cousins.”
“I protect what is mine. I’ll not allow you to use Angus.”
She moved away from the counter, her body tense with anger. “I have never used another person, especially never in that way. You’ve convinced yourself that I decided to somehow use my considerable wiles on your cousin to somehow gain who knows what.”
When she said it like that, he felt juvenile and petty.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Lennon. I’ll avoid your cousins from now on.”
Which is what he wanted, but at the same time, he felt like the lowest form of scum, even if it was the best choice. The diary could hold their secrets, and the less she connected to them, the better. They just needed it translated and for her to leave. As soon as that happened, he would be free of this affliction, he was sure.
“I’ll do my work and take my meals in my room.”
He heard the hurt in her voice. His need to banish Phoebe was as unexplainable as the need to ease her pain.
She attempted to brush past him, but he stepped in front of her, blocking her one exit. “I didn’t say you needed to avoid my cousins.” It was what he wanted, needed, but here he was contradicting his own thoughts, again.
When she looked at him, there was no humor in her gaze, no studied interest as he’d seen before. Now all he saw was loneliness, and he ached.
“No. I’ll finish my task and leave. I know you must have a very good reason, although I can’t understand what it could be. I will respect your wishes.”
Again, she tried to move past him, but he refused to budge. That same fresh scent of her reached his senses, seducing him. Even as he was reaching for her, his mind was screaming stop. He ignored it and every other protective instinct. The only thing roaring through his head was to take, to claim.
“It isna my family that has me worried, lass.” The moment he wrapped his hand around her upper arm, her head shot up, surprise lighting her eyes and her mouth falling open. “It seems being around you isna good for my peace of mind.”
He jerked her against him. She gasped, the sound filled with both fear and excitement. Arousal spiked and his body craved—demanded—more intimate contact. Knowing it was wrong, even knowing it was dangerous, he bent his head and took possession of her luscious mouth.
Chapter Five
Phoebe froze. Her breathing hitched and her heart stuttered. Every thought she possessed stalled then fizzled into nothing. She wasn’t accustomed to a brooding Scotsmen grabbing and kissing her. Hell, she wasn’t used to anyone doing that—which was a right shame—so she didn’t know how to respond. She just stood there, immobile, not able to even think of a response.
Callum pulled back. His breath feathered over her face. She shivered and opened her eyes. The harsh lines of his face seemed even more pronounced. His sleepy, bedroom eyes were barely open.
“Let me in, lass. Please.”
Stark need threaded his voice. It shook her to her core, spoke to her soul. Before she could think otherwise, she softened, eager to do as he bid. She opened her mouth, gladly accepting him. He growled, his tongue stealing inside, giving her a taste of him. Wild, possessive, delicious. His heat surrounded her, comforted her. The flavor of him captured her, enticed her. As he pressed against her intimately, she felt his arousal, and her body responded in kind. Her breasts grew heavy. Her mind spun as liquid heat poured through her veins.
He slipped his hands up her body, and she bowed her back, urging him to caress her breasts. She had to bite back her own growl as his knuckles brushed the sides of them before skimming up her throat and cupping her face. His fingers were strong and warm as they slid over her cheeks. Slanting his mouth over hers, he deepened the kiss.
Time suspended, stretched infinitely. She gave in to the craving she’d had since she’d first seen him, cravings that had filled her days and haunted her nights. With a moan, she moved her hands up to his shoulders then around to the nape of his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair. She wanted this, wanted him with a hunger so sharp it actually hurt. Her nipples hardened against his chest as he shifted closer, but she still wasn’t satisfied. Their layers of clothing irritated her. She wanted nothing more than to get him naked and feel his flesh next to hers.
Tension gathered in her stomach, circled then
tightened and slid between her legs. Arousal crawled through her, and she knew at this moment she would do anything he asked, give him anything he needed.
As abruptly as it had started, it stopped, with Callum jerking away with a curse.
She protested with a moan and moved closer, but he stepped away, removing his hands from her. She almost lost her balance and fell over.
“Phoebe.”
She opened her eyes and found him studying her as if she were some kind of unknown species. He was breathing as heavily as she, his face flush with embarrassment or excitement, she wasn’t quite sure which. Her gaze traveled down to the obvious bulge in his pants, and then shot back up to his face. It was then that the ramifications of her actions hit her.
Holy Mother of God.
She knew what she had been thinking. But a man like Callum Lennon didn’t come on to a woman like her without a reason. Every move in his life was calculated, planned. Phoebe knew better than to think he’d been overcome with lust. She eased away from him, needing space. “I—I have no idea what that was about.”
“I—”
“I told you I would stay away from your cousins. There was no need to try to scare me off using these kinds of tactics.”
His eyes widened then narrowed. “That had nothing to do with it.”
She snorted to hide the pain, but her voice cracked when she next spoke, shaming her. “To think you would use sex…” Phoebe couldn’t continue with the thought. She would surely break down if she did. All the warm feelings she’d had from the kiss drained. Cold seeped beneath her skin and chilled her blood. Even so, her voice was harsh from fighting back sobs when she spoke. “I don’t appreciate your tactics. They’re cruel.”
He said nothing, his eyebrows furrowing with confusion…or irritation. After a moment, a calculated look entered his eyes; his lips curled into a snarl. His tone was both sarcastic and condescending. “I will do anything to protect my cousins. I think you comprehend that now.”
Callum Page 8
