by India Kells
Still not looking at each other, she continued, her eyes searching the black sky. “Nothing complicated or big. In fact, I was considering contacting your brother, Owen.”
“Owen? What for?” She didn’t know what to make of his reaction. Some sort of suspicious questioning.
“I liked that little apartment above his club. I was wondering if he would allow me to stay there.”
“You mean you want to rent it?”
The more she thought about it, the more the idea appealed to her.
Wesley turned his head to look at her. “I see from the smile on your beautiful face that your mind is already set.”
“Well, not completely. It depends on something else.”
“What? The rent? Once my brother meets you, he will rent it to you for next to nothing. Especially if he knows you can moonlight at his club as a bonus.”
That stupid grin not leaving her face she turned to him. Arms crossed, tense, Wesley still looked right in front of him. Oh yeah, he wasn’t happy.
“Not really. I would appreciate a low rent. I’m sure I will like Owen as my landlord, but it’s another brother I’m interested in. And what his sleeping arrangements are.”
Did the corner of his mouth quirk up or it was a play of the light?
“Lance would make a great roommate.”
Now she burst out laughing, swatting at his thick, bulging arm. His smile was slow but stunning when he looked at her.
“What are your plans, when everything is done here, Wes?”
“I’m doing better, but I don’t know how long it will take me to be fit for the battlefield again. I have rounds and rounds of psychotherapy and my body is still in recovery, and even after that, there is no guarantee.”
He hesitated, something she’d rarely seen him do. His fingers searched and linked with hers.
“But if you’re game, I am, too.”
Everything in her softened. “Aren’t you worried about your reputation? I mean, living above a BDSM club?”
He seemed to be considering it.
“I’ve been tied down half-naked in a dungeon. I think my reputation is long gone and running by now.”
“I’m all about being very traditional in bed from now on.”
“Sweetheart, there is nothing traditional about you. And if, heaven forbid, we get really bored in our room, we’ll only have to go downstairs.”
Mac nodded. “We haven’t tried all the rooms yet.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Leaning forward, Wesley brushed his lips against hers. Mac shivered. The wind blew and the storm, the worst one, was quickly gathering forces, but for the first time since she fired that deadly shot, she was ready for it.
Chapter 34
This was the strangest battle outfit she ever donned. Again and again, Mac looked at herself in the mirror and didn’t recognize her body. It was true that it was been closing on ten years since she had worn a ball gown.
The emerald silk sheath of her mother flowed over her curves to perfection, thanks to small adjustments. Her red hair was pinned up on her head in a loose and elegant chignon. When she looked through her family’s jewelry, she found beautiful pieces, but one caught her eye, one she never remembered on her mother. It was an intricate choker made of onyx. It extended into a spider web pattern over her throat. The effect was stunning. Completing her outfit with matching pendant earrings and a pair of black gloves, she assessed the ensemble. Elegant with an aura of danger her mother would have disapproved. So unladylike. But that was her. The new Elorian. She hid for so long behind Mac that it took her a forced trip back memory lane to realize she didn’t despise the person she was. She was an eclectic blend of all the women before her and there was nothing shameful about it. Proud, she would make peace with her past, leaping more solidly into her future. With Wes.
Last adornment was her earpiece keeping her connected to the security team, and her clutch that would hold her gun. Ready for action, she checked in.
“Gabrielle, I’m on my way.”
Most of the security personnel would remain out of sight. Gabrielle was installed with Sullivan in a spare room. Lance was in a tuxedo, already mingling with the crowd bustling in the castle. The visible guards had been carefully selected, nothing had been left to luck. Not tonight.
“Good, all cameras are up and running. Everybody has been scanned, everything is under control. Your earpiece will only be used in case of emergency, so not to distract you from what you’re doing. Wes is waiting by the landing for you.”
Wesley had been adamant that he would stay by her side the entire evening. Her very personal bodyguard, he joked, but she knew that even though every stone had been turned, a snake may still have made its way inside.
“Understood.”
“Good luck. I dare say, I’m happy that you’re the one going into this arena filled with lions. You’re a courageous woman, Mac.”
“I was born and raised in this arena. Let’s hope I remember how to tame the beasts.”
Before she opened the door of her room, she pushed her shoulders back, and kept an image of her mother in her mind. If one woman from her lineage could host such a gathering like a queen, it was her mother.
Wesley was standing with his back to her, just before the staircase opening into the awaiting crowd. Laughter, discussion, and music from a small orchestra in the ballroom flowed upstairs, the volume louder and louder.
“Wes, are you ready?”
Sensing her, he spun, a word about to cross his mouth, and froze. She would never know what he wished to say. Very still, his eyes grew a stormy blue before an appreciative smile curved his lips.
“You are … I can’t find the words. Amazing, beautiful, sexy, glamorous, all those words wrapped up in you.”
As he looked at her, she was unable to turn her gaze away from the handsome warrior in front of her. Wesley was the kind of man who could wear a tuxedo as if a second skin. The cut was perfect, emphasizing his broad shoulders and trim waist. And she relished at the fact that under this suit, was a wealth of muscles and warm body. His blond hair was slicked backward, giving him an otherworldly charm.
He came forward and gentlemanly hooked her arm around his elbow. On his lapel, there was a beautiful boutonniere of heather, her favorite flower.
“Whatever is in your wicked brain, my lady, you better stop. If not, we may never make it down the stairs.”
“How could you possibly guess what I’m thinking?”
“Your pupils dilated, you moistened your lips and sighed.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I know all about it because I probably did the same thing when you appeared before me.”
Mac appreciated his compliment, she needed it.
“Let’s do it, Mr. Sorenson.”
“At your service, Lady MacKinnon.”
At the top of the stairs, she was thrown back in the days when the Yuletide Ball was at the height of good society. Never did it crossed her mind that she would ever be the hostess of such an event.
In a gesture of support, Wesley squeezed her hand and escorted her down the stairs. As it curved down to the wide open ballroom doors, guests mingled and chatted everywhere. It only took a minute for people to notice their arrival, and when they started to clap, she paused a few steps from the bottom. Wesley let go of her hand and shifted away, applauding with the crowd.
Mac found comfort in her mother’s memory, when she gestured gracefully until silence allowed her to speak.
“Thank you for your warm welcome. After years away, I never thought I would return again and meet so many amicable faces. I feel very privileged for being with all of you tonight.”
More applause and Mac paused.
“As many of you know by now, my brother, Matthew, and his wife, Jennifer, are the proud parents of a little girl. They hoped very much the new heiress of MacKinnon would have waited a week more, as she was supposed to, but as some MacKinnon women, she already has a rebel heart.
”
Laughter rolled.
“But they wished for the Yuletide Ball to remain as it is very important to them and our community. Your generosity brings joy and support to so many, I’m honored to step in and welcome you tonight. Be merry, enjoy this evening, and together, let’s gift a brighter future for people in need.”
A roar of approval shook the castle walls, soon flooded with applause. Mac smiled and Wesley came by her side, offering his arm for the remaining steps.
That’s when the round of welcome usually started. A first couple approached her, and she recognized them as old friends of her parents. She had definite images of the woman, with her bleached blonde strands styled with an excessive amount of hairspray as one of her mother’s charity function. Her husband was a banker, his tuxedo tight over his ample belly. But it was his kind face and eyes that drew attention. Joan and Michael Finnicker.
“My dearest child! Elorian! I couldn’t be happier to see you!” The woman gushed profusely over her before air kissing her. Wesley released her arm, but remained by her side, a pleasant smile on him. His eyes, though, were constantly scanning the room.
“Mrs. Finnicker, Mr. Finnicker. A true pleasure to meet you again after so many years.”
The older man squeezed her hand gently, leaving to his wife all possible discussion.
“Oh, Elorian, I’m so happy you finally decided to come back! Don’t get me wrong, your brother is doing a fantastic job, but his new wife lacks the luster of a true MacKinnon. I heard she was a policewoman in America. I told Matthew to be careful, to worry about those gold diggers, unfortunately he wouldn’t listen. I pray Jennifer will quickly learn our ways, and be a real wife to your brother.”
Mac bit her cheeks, refraining from shutting down the older woman with an acidic reply. It wouldn’t be helpful and would draw too much attention. If that over-bleached canary dressed in matching bright yellow only knew Jenny and how she loved her brother.
“I’m sure she will exceed your expectations, Mrs. Finnicker.”
“Oh, you must be right, my dear.” When her eyes slid to Wes, silent by her side, she realized it was her turn to be under fire.
“And you’re escorted by such a fine young man.”
“Mrs. and Mr. Finnicker, may I present Wesley Sorenson. Wesley, Mrs. and Mr. Finnicker are old friends of my parents.”
Joan didn’t hesitate to grab his offered hand, and Mac arched a brow as he brought her gloved paw to his lips for an elegant kiss. She swore the old cackler blushed. Then he straightened and shook her husband’s hand.
“Mr. Sorenson, is that Scandinavian? Oh, my dear Elorian, you wouldn’t dare marry a commoner like your brother did. Your mother had much higher expectations for you!”
At that exact moment, she couldn’t help but imagine a target right on the middle of her forehead. As she took a steadying breath to tell the old geezer that they weren’t royalty and that it was the twenty-first century, Wesley intervened.
“Mrs. Finnicker, may I reassure you that I’m bound by the same obligation of my dear Elorian, as I’m part of the Norwegian royal family from Queen Sonja’s family tree. I have the utmost respect for tradition and wouldn’t dare ask Lady MacKinnon to forget her duties.”
What the hell? What was he talking about?
Joan Finnicker smiled, tears flooding her eyes. “Oh, my dear son, I’m so happy you have found Elorian and brought her back where she belongs. And her parents would be so proud of you. Finally, they will rest in peace, knowing their daughter has chosen well and accomplished her duty.” Then she turned to Mac. “We have kept you from your guests for too long, but I will call later this week, so we can chat some more.”
Just before she was closing her eyes in despair, Mr. Finnicker winked at her and whisked his wife away.
It was the first time the woman had put her on the spot, and she didn’t like it a bit. That snippet of conversation had almost rendered her breathless, she didn’t dare imagine what effect a tea would have on her.
Wesley offered his arm again and lead her more into the room, just before they were to be hooked into another insane chat session, she squeezed his forearm, whispering to his ear, “That was quick thinking telling her that lie on your distant relation to the crowned family of Norway.”
“What lie?”
Mac stood utterly still for a second. “You mean you’re related to the Norwegian royal family.”
Wesley shrugged. “It’s quite distant in fact. So far, that my family has no right or money whatsoever from them. I don’t even have the dual citizenship, so it could appear as a fib.”
“But you weren’t fibbing.”
“No, sorry to disappoint, but there is a tiny amount of royal blood in my veins. No need to bow to me, Lady MacKinnon.”
“Scratch disappointed for relieved. For an instant, I feared that I would have to bow to your Highness.”
Wesley’s wicked smile tugged at him again. “Maybe you could call me your Highness when we do another scene in the dungeon.”
Mirth bubbled inside her. “You would like that.”
Wesley laughed as more people came their way. She saw in the eyes of many guests this speculation on who Wesley was to her. They were quite evasive in their answers, and it suited her. He was her secret.
Her head was so full of names and faces, her throat parched from speaking and her jaw sore from smiling, Mac found it hard to keep up this masquerade. One thing she was certain; her brother would be proud of her work. The hostess of the Yuletide Ball was flawless.
And she had the most perfect escort she could dream of. The warrior had transformed for the night, bringing her sparkling water when she coughed, elegantly ending conversations so she was able to jump into another group. But he took her breath away when the orchestra started playing an old Scottish ballad and he stole her from the most boring man alive to step onto the dance floor.
Mac wasn’t much of a dancer, but the tempo was slow, and it gave her a moment to gather her thoughts and breathe. Breathe and realize where she was and with whom she was dancing. She looked around the room adorned with fairy lights twinkling near the windows, garlands draped over doors and across the room. Two immense Christmas trees flanked the entrance.
When she glanced up at him, his short blond hair like burnished gold and his eyes the deepest blue she had ever seen, she almost forgot the resilient warrior underneath that gloss and veneer or why they were here.
“Who are you?” The words left her mouth before she really thought about them.
His face was questioning, clearly not understanding. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, it’s just that an image of you popped up in my mind, the first time I noticed you in the club. Grouchy, shouting, angry, limping. And now, here we are, on the other side of the Atlantic, in my highlands, dressed up and dancing in a castle. I can see all the steps in between, but the leap is nonetheless incredible. And to top it off, you can dance, hence my question.”
Wesley nodded. “In my defense, I have a very stubborn mother. When it was clear she was only to have boys, she decided to teach us all that a true gentleman would ever need to know. Those were her exact words. And there was no way to deny her, ask Lance or Owen.”
“So that’s where your stubborn streak stems from.”
“You could say that. A formidable woman indeed. I’m sure you two will get along quite well.”
His statement made her miss a step, but he shifted elegantly, turning her mistake into a whirl, helping her regain her balance.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself. I’m not meeting your mother. Not anytime soon.”
On her answer, Wesley smiled and made her twirl. “We’ll see.”
“Oh, no, you’re not starting using that sentence.”
“We’ll see.” But the second time he said it, there was glee in his voice.
They danced together until the song finally came to an end while so much was still left unsaid. When the couples walked away from the dance floor, he bro
ught her to the side, kissed her cheek, and winked at an old lady who almost swooned. Discreetly, he made a sign that meant he would be checking on things. All seemed well as there were no communication from Gabrielle or any of the other guards so far.
Mac toured the floor and went to sit, desperate to get off her feet. High heels were fashionable but she would have traded them for a pair of boots in an instant. It didn’t take long for someone to come and settle beside her.
Everyone was very kind, with very different levels of interest. Most of them had known her parents and had established a solid relationship with her brother. It made her proud, but also made her realize what a burden it was to be the chieftain of the MacKinnons. And for many years, she had left him alone, carrying it on his shoulders without any help—the money, the demands, the pressure. Until now, she never really thought about that. Not truly.
