Lethal in a Kilt

by Anna Durand

  What about Serena?

  As if on cue, the elevator doors slid open to reveal Serena inside.

  When her gaze met mine, she blinked several times quickly. "Logan. It's you."

  "Glad you remember my name."

  She looked spectacular, in a cream-colored pantsuit that hugged her body without being overtly sensual or inappropriate. Her hair curled around her face and tumbled over her shoulders. I wanted to tear the clothes off her body and pin her to the wall of the elevator car.

  "What are you doing here?" she asked.

  "I work in this building. Why should you be surprised to bump into me?"

  She laughed nervously. "I'm not surprised."

  "You gawp at everyone, then?" I stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the first floor. "What are you doing away from your desk at two in the afternoon?"

  She made an exasperated noise. "I have meetings too, you know."

  "Of course you do." I moved over a little, enough to let me admire her body while the car began its gradual descent. "I'm sure Evan told you about our business trip."

  "Yes," she said curtly. "I'm seriously considering sneaking poison into his coffee."

  "Don't do that. How can I fuck you again if you're in prison?"

  "You're obsessed with sex." She toyed with the cuff of her shirt, where it poked out of her jacket sleeve. "I...thought you might be quitting. After what you said the other day."

  "What did I say? Don't recall telling you I wanted to resign."

  "You apologized for being evasive and said you wouldn't pester me for sex anymore. You also said you understood if I didn't want to talk to you." She glanced at me sideways. "It sounded like a goodbye."

  "It was goodbye—for the moment." I studied her facial expression and her nervous movements, the way she fingered her cuff and then fussed with her collar, repeatedly. Could she have been worried I would go back to Scotland? Did she want to have me around? I edged closer to her until a space of inches separated us. "If I meant to leave the country, or even the state, I'd tell you. And I wouldn't leave it open to interpretation. You would know for certain."

  "Sure, whatever." Another nervous laugh bubbled out of her. "It's not like I care what you do."

  Ah, but she did care. Everything about her demeanor and her tone of voice attested to that fact. Did I want her to care whether I stayed or left? Damned if I knew. Since the day I'd first met Serena Carpenter, I'd been sure of nothing. If she'd told me she was quitting her job and moving to another city or state or country, how would I feel about that?

  My throat tightened. My skin went cold.

  I took two steps backward. "I'm sorry if I worried you, but it's not as if we're a couple. I assumed you wanted me to stop bothering you, so I did."

  She peeked at me over her shoulder, but her expression had changed. She no longer seemed edgy. Her eyes had softened, her posture too. "Maybe I was worried, and I'm glad you're not quitting."

  Before I could formulate a response, she rushed toward me, captured my face in her hands, and crushed her lips to mine. Right about the time my shock wore off and I was about to haul her body into mine, she pulled away.

  "Seattle might be fun," she said. "I've never been there before. Have you?"

  My mouth opened, but I couldn't speak. The lass had kissed me, and now she casually talked about our business trip. She was the most confounding woman I'd ever met.

  "I've never been to Seattle either," I finally managed to say. "At least we don't have to travel commercial. Evan's jet is much faster and more comfortable."

  "Yeah, I've been on it before."

  Evan would have flown her to Scotland for the family events she'd attended. I should've guessed she'd been on the jet before, but my brain had stopped functioning when she kissed me.

  What on earth was happening to me? Speechless over a kiss. Me. I'd seduced my fair share of women in the line of duty, and for personal pleasure, but Serena stole my voice and my good sense.

  The elevator doors opened. We had reached the ground floor.

  I gestured for Serena to exit. "Ladies first."

  "This isn't my stop."

  "Why did you ride down to the first floor if you didn't need to?"

  She nibbled on her bottom lip but said nothing.

  I stepped out of the elevator. "Where are you headed?"

  Her shoulders hunched, she curved her lips into a shy smile. "Third floor."

  The doors glided shut while Serena and I regarded each other.

  For a minute or two after the doors closed, I stood there immobilized by the realization that Serena had taken the elevator to the ground floor, instead of getting off at the third floor, simply to be with me. She must have. Why else would she seem embarrassed when I asked? The facts led to one conclusion.

  She liked me.

  And worse, I liked her.

  Bod an Donais.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Serena

  The doorbell rang while Chase and I were carrying the remnants of our dinner into the kitchen. My son had volunteered to wash the dishes. A teenage boy. Voluntarily doing chores. Well, I'd always known my kid was no average boy. I supposed growing up without a father had made him feel obligated to lend a hand, since I'd worked crazy hours as a nurse before taking the job with Evan.

  The old guilt rose up inside me like a monster crawling out from under my bed. I should've gotten a different job years ago, so I could spend more time with Chase. But nursing was what I'd trained for before Rob died, and I hadn't known what else to do.

  At least the chiming doorbell distracted me from the guilt.

  I left Chase to start washing, though he reminded me, "They have these machines that wash dishes for you, Mom. It's not the Stone Age anymore."

  "Sure, but—" I cut myself off before I said those machines were too expensive. Evan paid me enough that I could afford one. So maybe I should get a dishwasher. Christ, it was hard to give up the penny-pinching mindset after living that way for over a decade. I settled for telling him, "I'll think about it."

  Then I hurried to the front door and pulled it open.

  Isla MacTaggart smiled. "Serena, I was hoping you'd be home. Am I imposing? I don't want to be a bother, but I thought you and I should have a good blether."

  Luckily, I'd spent enough time around the MacTaggart clan to know she was suggesting we have a chat. In this case, a woman-to-woman chat. Did I want to have this kind of conversation with Isla? She seemed nice, but if she wanted to talk about me and Logan, I wasn't sure I was up for that.

  "Donnae worry," she said. "I'm not here to interrogate you. Whatever you and Logan do together is your business, not mine. But since my brother clearly likes you, I wanted us to get to know each other better. Logan told me the two of you are flying to Seattle early in the morning, so I won't keep you long, I promise."

  Isla wore an outfit similar to the one she'd had on the day we met at Evan and Keely's house. The choker with a large jet stone at its center still encircled her throat, but her dragon earrings had been replaced with silver pentacles.

  "Come in," I said, swinging the door open and moving aside. "We can talk in the living room."

  She crossed the threshold, and when I pointed toward the doorway to the living room, she headed in that direction.

  I closed the door, feeling a little weird about chatting with Logan's sister, and followed her.

  We both sat on the sofa, Isla at one end and me at the other, and angled ourselves so we could see each other. Logan's sister looked chic in a Gothic way and very put together, but I was wearing sweats and an old T-shirt with well-worn mule slippers on my feet. Mismatched slippers. Unconsciously, I reached up to feel my hair and... I don't know. Try to fix it? That was a hopeless task. I needed a shower.

  "Relax," Isla said. "I'm not here to judge you, Serena. You should see what I look like when I'm at home. You wouldn't recognize me."

  "How did you kn
ow I was thinking about my crummy clothes?"

  "I'm psychic." She maintained a serene expression for about two seconds, then burst out laughing. "I'm having you on. You were touching your hair and looking at your slippers. I love mules, don't you? They're so easy to slip on and off."

  "Sometimes they fall off my feet."

  "Oh, I hate when that happens." She scooted a little closer. "You must think we're off our heads, my sisters and I. But we're not as eccentric as you might think."

  "I don't mind eccentric. Actually, I admire that about you three. You don't care what other people think and do your own thing, which seems to make you happy. That's all that matters."

  She nodded gravely. "Aye, but I cannae say the same for Logan. His time in the military and the SIS has made him so closed off."

  "He was in the military?"

  The revelation shot a cold spike through me. I'd loved one military man and wound up devastated by losing him. I wasn't in love with Logan. Wasn't even sure I liked him. But the thought of developing a relationship with another man who put himself in harm's way on purpose... I wasn't sure I could go through that again.

  Logan wasn't in the military or the SIS anymore. Did he still crave danger? Did he need to be a hero, even as a civilian?

  "Logan was in the army," Isla said. "I don't know what he experienced during those years, since he won't talk about it, but I know it changed him. Joining MI6 changed him even more. He's afraid to trust anyone."

  "I get the feeling you're trying to tell me something, but I don't know what."

  She inched closer still. "Logan is a good man. He was a sweet and loving lad, and I know he can be that way again. Maybe not exactly like he was before, but happier than he is now." She touched my knee. "And I'm positive you'll be the one to show him the way."

  I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Show him the way? I wasn't a swami or a guru or whatever. If Logan needed way-showing, he wouldn't get that from me. Even if I could figure out how to loosen him up, I wasn't sure I wanted to do that. It would mean getting involved with him. Seriously involved. Relationship involved.

  "You're conflicted," Isla said. "But you want to give it a go with him, I can see it in your eyes."

  "Are you sure you're not psychic?"

  "No, just very perceptive." She folded her hands on her lap. "I have to be. As the oldest child, it's always been my responsibility to look after my sisters and brother. Our parents never forced me to do it, but I wanted to. I love them all so much, and I want them to be happy."

  "What about you? Who looks after your happiness?"

  She averted her gaze. "We're talking about you and Logan."

  "There is no me and Logan. We work together." And occasionally had sex in inappropriate locations. Sure, we'd had lunch together once. And maybe I'd stayed in the elevator instead of getting off at the third floor so I could hang out with Logan a little bit. None of that meant anything. Pathetic excuses, I knew. "Look, I think Logan is nice enough, but I'm not the one to set him straight. Honestly, we don't get along that well."

  "Nonsense." She touched my knee again. "I can tell from the way he talks about you, and the way he looks at you, that the two of you get on very well. You're compatible, in the opposites-attract way. He's the rough and tumble sort. You're the nurturing type. A perfect complement to each other."

  Rough and tumble? Oh, I definitely could not get involved with a man like that.

  I winced, because I had to admit a part of me liked his bad boy side. A somewhat large part of me that kept growing every day. Sex in the copy room? Not my style at all, but when Logan suggested it...

  Heat tingled over my skin at the memory.

  "The spell should be working by now," Isla said. "Things will be better between you two."

  "Spell? What on earth are you talking about?"

  "My sisters and I cast a wee spell to make Logan more receptive to the idea of falling in love."

  Great, his sisters put a spell on him. Even if I believed in that stuff, I wouldn't want him to develop feelings for me because of a magic incantation. "Does Logan know about this spell?"

  "Oh, he knows."

  Even better. I couldn't believe Logan would buy into their magical powers, but he must've been less than thrilled with their meddling. If anything, their "spell" had probably made him less receptive to the idea of love.

  "Look, Isla," I said, "you're sweet, and I appreciate that you want Logan to be happy, but you've really got the wrong idea about us."

  Isla's lips parted, but she didn't get the chance to speak.

  "Wrong idea about who?" my son asked.

  My focus swerved to the doorway where Chase stood. I swore he hadn't been there a second ago, but there he was now. He must not have heard much, based on his question.

  "Oh hello," Isla said, beaming at my son. "It's so nice to see you again, Chase. I'm Isla. We met at the brunch on Saturday."

  "Yeah, I remember. You're Logan's sister." Chase rushed over to shake Isla's hand. "Logan's awesome. Are you, like, a witch or a sorceress or something?"

  "Yes, I'm a Wiccan."

  "Awesome!"

  "Chase," I said, "eavesdropping is rude."

  "I didn't mean to do it. This house isn't that big."

  "Yeah, I know." But I was on edge thanks to my conversation with Isla and all her suggestions of something brewing between me and Logan. "Sorry, honey. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

  "It's okay. Were you guys talking about Logan?"

  "Aye," my guest said.

  Chase aimed his excited face at me. "Are you and Logan, like, dating now?"

  What could I say to that? What should I say? We argue a lot, and sometimes we screw, but I have no fucking idea what we're doing. No, not an appropriate parent-to-child conversation. I struggled to come up with some kind of response, but I failed.

  "They're friends," Isla offered, with a furtive wink at me. "And it's their business. We should leave them to figure things out on their own, don't you think?"

  "Sure, yeah," Chase said.

  The look on his face told me he really, really wanted me to say I was head over heels for the cool ex-spy, and the wedding would be in two weeks.

  Isla clapped her hands on her thighs and got up. "I'll say good night. Serena, please call me anytime you want to talk. I'd like us to be good friends."

  "I'd like that too," I said, rising to show her to the door. "Thank you for stopping by, Isla. Maybe we can have lunch sometime."

  "That would be lovely." She glanced back at Chase. "Good night, dearie."

  Chase said good night too, and Isla left.

  The instant I shut the door, Chase rushed up to me. "Are you dating Logan? It would sooooo cool if you were. Logan's awesome."

  "Uh-huh." I ruffled his hair, earning a whiny groan from him. "I have to pack for my trip. Remember, Evan will be here at five thirty to pick us up, and after you guys drop me off at the airport, you'll go to Evan and Keely's house for the weekend."

  "I know, Mom," he said in a long-suffering tone. "I'm not brain damaged. I can remember things for more than five minutes."

  "Just making sure. It's a mom's job to be a pest, you know."

  He snorted out a laugh. "Duh."

  I tousled his hair again. "I love you too, sweetie."

  "Mom," he whined. "You're so embarrassing."

  "There's nobody else around, so you can't be embarrassed."

  He rolled his eyes.

  "Better go pack," I told him. "Scoot."

  He rolled his eyes again but hustled to his bedroom.

  Chase would have fun with Evan and Keely, but I faced a weekend alone with Logan MacTaggart. Either we would murder each other, or we'd wind up getting it on in the most inappropriate places in Seattle. Evan had insisted Logan and I have hotel rooms right next to each other. At least there was no adjoining door. I thought. I hoped.

  Me and Logan. All weekend.

  What h
ad Isla called us? The perfect complement to each other. I wanted to dismiss the idea out of hand, but something inside me wouldn't let me do that. Maybe we could be more than fuck buddies. Maybe...

  No, no, no, I did not have feelings for Logan.

  While I retreated into my bedroom to pack, I couldn't help wondering if Isla's instincts were right. And if Keely was right about why I insisted I hated Logan. And if maybe, possibly, I should try to see past my fears and give him a chance.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Logan

  My sisters showed up at the airport to say goodbye. Evan had meant to simply drop off Serena, but her son insisted on saying hello to me, so both Chase and Evan joined us on the tarmac. With Evan's jet behind us, we talked for a few minutes about banal things, until my sisters arrived. They descended like a plague of locusts—smiling, cheerful locusts dressed like folk-rock singers—and hugged me and Serena so fiercely and so often that I felt sure we both were suffering from lack of oxygen.

  When Isla hugged me for the last time, she whispered into my ear, "The spell is working, I can feel it. You are open to the possibility of love. Show Serena who you really are, don't be afraid."

  Isla and Elspeth, who had been hugging Serena, switched places. Elspeth threw her arms around me and murmured in my ear, "Serena's wonderful. I'm so happy you finally have a girlfriend."

  "Serena is not my girlfriend."

  "Donnae ruin it and chase Serena off, Logie."

  "Never call me that again."

  Elspeth pulled back and pointed at the right side of her head. "What did you say? I didn't hear you. Bad ear, remember?"

  "That's your other ear, Elspeth."

  "Oh, is it?" she said with a grin.

  Isla collected up Kirsty and Elspeth, and the three of them left.

  Chase had gone too, to spend the weekend with Evan and Keely.

  Serena and I boarded the jet alone.

  I dropped onto a sofa and propped my feet on the table in front of it, but Serena gingerly lowered herself onto a chair, gripping the armrests and clamping her teeth over both her lips. Her gaze flitted here, there, and everywhere.