A librarian. He shook his head. She may have agreed with his instructions tonight, but there was no way she’d go through with it. He’d stake his life on it. Maybe there was a clause in that blasted contract that said he could fire her if she didn’t do her job. He wanted his life back.
Shutting down the document on his screen, he did a quick Internet search for Plymouth Furies. The scowl on his face grew. She was right. They hadn’t made red ones until 1959. No wonder he was getting threatening letters. They were probably from an irate Plymouth fanatic.
Except he didn’t think they had anything to do with cars. He reached across a stack of papers and picked up the last letter he’d gotten. He hadn’t even told Marc about this one. His agent was worried enough as things stood.
Whoever was doing this wasn’t crass enough to use letters clipped from a newspaper. They had used handwritten calligraphy on stationery that looked expensive but was probably common enough. The scent of roses clung to the page, turning his stomach. He’d hated the odor for as long as he could remember, felt like he was smothering each time he smelled it.
Even though he’d memorized its contents, he read the letter again, looking for anything that might tell him who the author was.
My Darling,
You haven’t forgotten me, have you? You never visit me, never show me your love. Do you know my secrets, or even care? I care. I keep your picture with me constantly as a reminder of the past.
Will your family be upset when we’re finally together? I’ve missed you, my heart. But I’m near and I’m waiting for you. Look for me, my own. Find me if you can, if you dare. Time is running out.
Wearily, Angus rubbed his eyes. If you took it overall, there was nothing ominous about the letter, no overt threat. But the tone bothered him badly. Was it someone he’d met, innocently flirted with? It had to be. The notes were too personal, the feelings expressed too proprietary toward him.
He folded the letter and put it back in the matching envelope, trying not to inhale the scent. The postmark on the outside was from New York, as were all the others. But he didn’t fool himself into thinking it would help. The letters could have been dropped into any mailbox in the city.
Opening a drawer on his desk, he put the letter inside. Only the first one had contained a picture. As soon as they’d realized what was going on, Marc had installed a security system and cameras around the house. The cameras were set to record on a twenty-four hour loop, and at night, bright lights flooded the area around the entrance. They couldn’t record every square inch of the estate, but if she got close enough to take any more snapshots they’d have her.
With a sense of disgust, he flipped the computer’s off button. Between the lunatic and the mistress there was no way he could concentrate on writing tonight. He might as well give up until tomorrow.
* * * * *
Kate moved quietly through the house, inspecting rooms, checking windows, and making sure outside doors were securely locked and the alarms working. So far, she’d found a library, a well-equipped gym and spa, something she could only describe as a ballroom, and an indoor pool down in the basement. She’d also found the room with the closed circuit TVs. What she hadn’t found yet was the kitchen, and she was starving.
Making her way through a formal dining room large enough to hold her half of the duplex, she pushed open a swinging door and breathed a sigh of relief. The kitchen.
It wasn’t as big as the dining room, but it came damn close. There was a huge fireplace at one end with all sorts of weird iron implements attached. In the center of the room sat a butcher-block table, copper-bottomed pots hanging above it on a rack. Only the appliances looked new, each reflecting light from their shiny, stainless steel surfaces.
She was examining the contents of the refrigerator when her cell phone vibrated.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Sis. It’s me. Can you talk?”
“Sure. His Lordship is busy at the moment. You wouldn’t believe this guy’s refrigerator. It looks like he’s expecting a siege. I haven’t seen this much food since the last time I went grocery shopping.”
Crystal laughed. “You hate shopping. So what’s he like?”
Kate pursed her lips as she pulled out a shrimp and pasta salad, opened the lid and sniffed. Immediately, her mouth watered. “Let’s just say Sammy has better manners and leave it at that.” She carried the bowl to the table and went back to find a fork.
“That bad, huh?”
“Oh, yeah. This assignment is going to be a real laugh fest. So, how did it go with the boutique?”
“Great. They were more than willing to give me another month once they got their hands on the six thousand. Did you hang the dress up like I told you too?”
Kate paused guiltily in her search through the drawers. Crystal had helped her pick out a dress suitable for the party McLeod was attending next week. Her own fashion sense was nonexistent. “I forgot. I promise I’ll do it as soon as I eat.”
“Damn it, Kate. That was the sexiest, most expensive dress in my shop. Don’t you dare ruin it.”
“I won’t. I’ll treat it like it was made of spun glass.”
“Okay.” Crystal didn’t sound as though she believed her. “I just called to make sure you arrived safely. I’m going to go get Sammy ready for bed.”
Triumphantly, Kate pounced on the forks she’d just discovered. “Give her a kiss from me. I’ll talk to you when I can.”
“Night.”
The phone clicked in her ear and she hung it on her belt before turning toward the table. One step brought her square up against a hard male chest. The man must move like a cat for her not to have heard him. Of course, the floor was stone and he was barefoot.
“Kiss who goodnight?” he inquired mildly.
Hastily, she stepped around him. “My niece. That was my sister on the phone.” She parked herself on a bar stool and dug into the pasta. He might be sexy and distracting, but nothing came between her and food when she was this hungry.
He strolled to the silverware drawer, got out a fork, and sat down next to her. “Do ye have many brothers and sisters?” Their forks clashed together as he twirled the pasta around the tines.
“Uh, no. Crystal is the only one.” She watched his jaw work as he chewed and swallowed a healthy bite, trying to ignore the hot flush of desire washing over her as arm brushed hers. “Maybe I should get plates.”
“Why? They’d only need washing then.” He gestured toward the salad. “How is it?”
Kate took another bite, answering with her mouth full. “It’s delicious. Who made it?”
“Me.”
“You?” She looked up in surprise.
“Ye didna think a mon could cook as well as a woman?”
“You’re asking the wrong person. I can barely manage the basics. Anything that doesn’t come in a box with clear instructions, and I’m lost.”
“My mother made sure I knew how tae feed myself in what she calls a ‘civilized’ manner. No fast food for her.”
“Yeah, well, mine died before she had much chance to teach me anything.” Except how to dodge a swinging fist, she added mentally. Time to change the subject. “Why do you live in this huge house out in the middle of nowhere?”
He’d finished off half the salad. “Because it reminds me a bit of home. It’s not as big as the castles in Scotland, but it looks like them. So does the coast here.”
“Don’t you get lonely?”
“Nay, I like it. There’s none tae tell me what tae do. I can write all night if the mood strikes me. Do you get lonely?”
Kate paused with the fork halfway to her mouth and gave him a sharp look. “No, I don’t.”
“So, there’s a mon in yer life?”
“If there were, I wouldn’t be here, now would I?”
“Yer an odd person, Kate Carson.” He was watching her closely. “The idea of having sex for money doesna bother ye?”
She put her fork down. “It’s only another
job, one of the oldest professions, I might add. It’s not like I’m walking the streets. Besides, I needed the money and there wasn’t another way to get it.”
“What could be that important tae ye?”
“Nothing you’d understand, I’m sure.” She jumped up and carried her fork to the dishwasher. “Why don’t you just be thankful Marc found someone willing to take the job?”
“I’m that bad, am I?” He gave her a lopsided smile that did funny things to her insides. Until she remembered that damn book.
“Don’t worry, Mr. McLeod.” She slapped her hands down on the table in front of him. “You’ll never be able to tell when I’m faking it. I’m going to make very sure you get your money’s worth.”
“Fake it?” His roar of indignation followed her to the door. “No woman has ever faked it with me! She doesna have tae.”
Kate had to work hard to stifle her laugh when he added in a tone that sounded puzzled and unsure, “At least, I dinna think they have.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Kate nibbled her bottom lip as she stared at the lingerie spread over her bed. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, but she’d been up for over an hour preparing her first assault on His Lordship.
She fingered a wispy bit of lace and shook her head. Driving the man insane wasn’t going to work if she died of embarrassment first. The big guns would have to wait until she was a little more confident than she was now.
The negligee she finally chose was virginal in its simplicity. Made from white silk, the empire style bodice rose to circle her neck, covering her to her chin. Tiny pink flowers spilled in an embroidered cascade down to the skirt, which hit her mid-thigh. It wasn’t until she turned around that the illusion of purity vanished. The gown was backless, exposing a wide expanse of bare skin all the way to her bottom. An inch lower and there would have been nothing left to hide.
Static electricity made the silk cling to her curves and exposed the sides of her breasts. Every move telegraphed the invitation to touch, discover what lay under the prim front.
Kate smiled at her reflection in the mirror. McLeod had declared war with his attempts to make her leave, and she didn’t like to lose. Embarrassment be damned. She’d lived through worse. He was going to regret his tricks even if her face stayed red as a lobster for weeks.
Bracing herself mentally, she picked up the tray she’d left on the dresser and tiptoed to his room. When she heard no noise from inside, she eased the door opened.
His room was identical to hers except for the furnishings and the fact that it was reversed. Her bed was a queen, his was a king. Her sitting room was on the left, his was on the right. The two bedrooms shared a large bath, which had probably been a dressing room before the installation of plumbing. She had lain in bed last night listening to the sounds of him bathing, her imagination going wild. But she had it under control now, and the battle was about to begin.
Quietly, she placed the tray on the table next to his bed and turned to gaze down at him. He was sprawled on his stomach, the blankets pushed down below his waist. That wild mane of black hair was spread across his pillow, part of it tangled over his face. Even in sleep, he looked fierce, dangerous, the impression enhanced by the thick dark stubble covering his jaw and chin. Her heart picked up a beat at what she was about to do. Baiting a wolf wasn’t exactly a safe hobby. Exciting maybe, but not safe.
Silently, she searched the room until she found a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then placed them on the foot of the bed.
Kate took a deep breath. She’d been prepared to sleep with him from the moment she’d accepted the job, dreamed about it, really. If he broke down and actually made love to her, it only meant she’d won. And the closer she got to him, the easier it would be to protect him, a problem she normally didn’t have with clients. They were usually more than willing to have her with them every second of the day, armed and ready.
Slowly, she lowered herself to sit on the side of the bed. Using one hand, she ran her nails gently down his back. The hard muscles under his bronzed skin tightened and chill bumps erupted, but there was no other reaction.
She took a second to brush the hair away from his face and then used her nails again. This time, his back arched like a cat’s, and there was a faint mumble of words.
Leaning over, she skimmed his ear with her lips. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” she breathed.
He reacted as if someone had wired him to a two hundred and twenty volt electric outlet. Spinning onto his back, he bolted straight up in the bed, eyes wide, the spare pillow gripped in his drawn-back hand.
“Those really don’t make good weapons unless you’re fighting a marshmallow man,” she commented, nodding toward the pillow. “Too soft.”
“What the hell are ye doin’ in my room?” His voice was still raspy with sleep, but he was definitely wide-awake now.
“My job.” Kate smiled sweetly. The blankets had slid farther down with his violent movements and she was trying desperately to keep her gaze on his face. “I brought your breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” He lowered the pillow, his bewildered gaze moving to the tray. “I thought ye couldna cook?”
She reached to the table and picked up a bowl of ripe strawberries. “Even I can manage to make coffee and toast bagels. Now, open up.”
Oh, what the heck. Her curiosity was killing her. Might as well take a peek. She dropped her gaze to his lap and immediately wished she hadn’t. Moisture flooded her mouth and her heart slammed into her throat as if it planned on taking up permanent residence there at the sight that greeted her. Even partially erect, he was magnificent, thick and perfectly shaped. Beneath the silk of her gown, her nipples pebbled. If he hadn’t yanked the blanket up, she doubted she could have looked away.
When she lifted her gaze to his face, he was glaring at her. “See anything interesting?”
Darn right she had. But she wasn’t about to admit it. “Don’t tell me you’re shy? And I was so looking forward to helping you dress after breakfast.” She made a little moue with her lips. “I even picked out your clothes. Well, except for the underwear. I didn’t know which kind you wanted. Personally, I never wear undergarments. Hate the things.”
She offered the strawberry again and he opened his mouth automatically, a dazed expression in his eyes as his glance slid over her gown. He swallowed the berry whole.
“For God’s sake, woman, yer naked!”
Kate ran a hand from her neck down to her stomach, outlining her breasts, nipples hardened, with the move. “Not completely.”
“Go put some clothes on.”
“Don’t you like it?” Putting the bowl down, she stood and turned in a sensuous circle, arms raised above her head, giving him time for a good long look. “I have some that are a little more revealing if you’d rather I changed.”
“No!”
“Great.” Smiling, she resumed her seat, noting with glee that the blanket now formed a tent over his lap. And she was just getting warmed up. In more ways than one.
Choosing another berry from the bowl, she delicately bit into it, letting the juice coat her lips and then deliberately licked it off. Curling her legs under her, she leaned closer, her breasts brushing his chest as she fed him the last half.
“Yer doin’ this on purpose, aren’t ye?” He was starting to look desperate now, and a feeling of power swept over her.
“Of course,” she purred. “Your wish is my command. Is there something special you’d like me to do?” Her fingers trailed down the warm skin of his chest, one hand sliding under the tented sheet to briefly, teasingly, caress the silky skin of his erection. “Or maybe you aren’t ‘disturbed’ enough yet? I can help with that too.”
“Help?” It sounded more like a plea for salvation than a question. A fine sheen of sweat covered his forehead.
“Uh huh, help.” She rose to her knees and placed her hands on his shoulders to brace herself. “You’ve got a drop of juice,” she whispered, “here.” She teased th
e corner of his lips with the tip of her tongue, inhaling the taste and scent of warm, aroused male.
He trembled once and went so still she’d swear he had stopped breathing. That certainly wasn’t a problem she was having. Her breath came in short pants as need washed over her. Her whole body was alive and waiting, wanting. This was no fantasy image on a poster. This was the real thing, the living embodiment of all her deepest desires.
“And here.” She moved to the other side and repeated her earlier ministrations. Only this time, she worked toward the middle. “And here.”
Leaning fully against him, she parted his lips, exploring gently, erotically. Moisture dampened the inside of her thighs and she forgot this was a game. She only knew she wanted him in a way she’d never felt for any man before, wanted to feel him inside her. Her body pressed tighter, instinctively trying to fuse with his.
With a muffled groan, his arms closed around her and his mouth took control, ravaging hers with a desperation that sent jagged shards of lightning jolting along every nerve in her body. His tongue commanded, forced hers into compliance as it stroked, battled for dominance. He tasted of strawberries and male in a heady combination she couldn’t get enough of.
All her senses were in a state of heightened awareness. She could actually feel the texture of his tongue as she gave in to its power and caressed it eagerly with her own. The stubble on his cheeks created a friction against her skin that was painfully pleasant. Beneath the silk of her gown, she felt his muscles tense and relax, tense and relax, in a rhythm that struck an answering chord low in her anatomy.
She was going to climax just from his kiss.
Abruptly, she found herself sprawled at the foot of the bed, Angus staring at her as though she’d grown horns and a tail. He was sure breathing hard now. In fact, he was drawing in great gulps of air.
Trembling with the need for release that had been so close, Kate stared back in confusion. “Did I do something wrong?”
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