Logan

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Logan Page 17

by Melissa Schroeder


  “Yes. There was a little heat in your voice when you talked about him.”

  “It’s because he’s a pompous ass.”

  Izzy laughed. “You are attracted.” Phoebe opened her mouth to lie, but her friend was too fast for her. “Don’t even fib to me. I’ll let you go, but I want regular updates.”

  Phoebe sighed. As if she could talk Izzy out of it… “You got it.”

  After ringing off, Phoebe looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was still a mess, her makeup still streaked her skin. This was not the most auspicious of beginnings.

  * * * *

  As soon as Fletcher escorted Dr. Chilton from the room, Callum shifted weight from one foot to the other, trying to calm his body’s reaction to her. Bloody hell, he’d practically jumped over the desk and kissed her, not caring who was there to witness.

  Be truthful, Callum. You wanted to do a whole lot more than kiss the lass.

  Aye, he did. She made his blood pump, and he wanted to know if she’d look as heated when she moaned his name.

  “Just what the fucking hell was that?”

  Angus’s cursing wasn’t normal. Callum knew he deserved the rebuke, but it didn’t mean he cared for his younger cousin’s tone.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “You willna question me on this, Angus. Nothing happened and nothing will.”

  Callum turned and watched the younger man approach him. As leader, Callum allowed discussion, but with his body still aroused, any debate was like pouring salt into the wound. Not only was he angry with himself for the desire still curling in his belly, but he’d shown disrespect to a woman by showing such blatant lust, not to mention giving her a way to use him. If she had any idea how much he wanted her, she could get just about anything she wanted. He never bedded women who worked for him. Ever.

  Dr. Chilton had been attractive in a rumpled sort of way. He had a feeling that under the ill-fitting jacket, she had curves he couldn’t find on women today—ones he thirsted to explore. He still didn’t trust her. Not many people would turn down money just because of a simple contract. Callum couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about the woman bothered him. Other than the fact he wanted her beneath him, digging her nails into his back.

  Sweet Jesus, when she’d stood up to him, mild interest had shot to heated desire in the blink of an eye. The force of it had left him shaken to his soul.

  “We can’t have you tupping the help, Callum.”

  He smiled, knowing it was all teeth and no humor. “Have you ever known me to?”

  “No.” Angus looked out the window, and Callum could almost hear his mind turning over the problem. When he met his cousin’s gaze, Callum realized he wasn’t angry but worried. “But I’ve also never seen you act like that.”

  “I’m hardly a virgin.”

  Angus smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, a hint of sadness darkening his gaze. “I know that. Seriously, if it were anyone else, I would say take her to bed for a week—even if I think you two are completely wrong for each other. You have a business mind, she has a scientific mind and you would never—”

  “Sweet Jesus, Angus, just get on with it.”

  He sighed. “This is too important.”

  Guilt, familiar and uncomfortable, had the muscles in his gut clenching. He knew he’d failed before when it had counted the most. But he refused to let his emotions get the better of him again. Even for a woman with the fire Phoebe Chilton showed—especially when she held their future in her hands.

  “Doona fash yourself.”

  Before Angus could reply, Fletcher returned, Anice following close behind him. A frown puckered her brow as she kept darting nasty looks at Fletcher.

  Without preamble, Fletcher said, “I think we need to be careful of Dr. Chilton.”

  “You have no basis for that.” Anice had crossed her arms which was a sure sign she was ready to fight.

  “For the love of Christ, you haven’t even met the woman. I have, and she was asking too many questions about us and the company.”

  “The company?” Callum asked, his suspicion rising.

  “She wanted to know when you took over Lennon Enterprises and who was in charge before you. I tried to dissuade her, but she kept on it until we reached the room.”

  “I’m sure she forced you to answer her.” Disgust ripened Anice’s voice. “You’re over six feet tall, and she is barely five and a half feet.”

  “I’m not saying she forced me but that she was persistent.”

  “I think—”

  “Enough!” Callum shouted. When brother and sister got going, they could make him barmy.

  He thought of her refusal to sign the contract, possibly turning down a healthy amount of euros. People just didn’t do that without cause. Now she was asking about them. She was insistent enough to make Fletcher question her motives, and he rarely thought straight when a woman was involved.

  “I want you to check out her background.”

  Angus studied him with a frown. “I did. I double-checked it, in fact. There is nothing to indicate she would sell out.”

  Callum gritted his teeth and then blew out an aggravated breath. “Triple check. I want to know everything there is to know about Phoebe Chilton, especially if this turns out to be the cure we’ve been searching for.”

  Angus nodded.

  “Since I missed my meeting, I need to ring up the supplier and set a new one. I’ll be having dinner by myself with her tonight,” Callum said.

  All three cousins looked at each other. Angus, the one who had always been their spokesperson said, “I don’t think that is a good idea.”

  “I didn’t ask.”

  Callum sensed that Angus wanted to say more, but nodded instead.

  “I need some privacy to get this done so I can meet Dr. Chilton for dinner. The sooner she gets it translated and decoded, the sooner she is gone.”

  Anice, the peacemaker, stepped in. “And the sooner we will be able to start working on a resolution to our problem. Come on, boys.”

  Fletcher curled his lip. “I take offense to being called ‘boys,’ especially at my advanced age.”

  But he followed his sister just the same. Angus looked to argue again, but Anice said, “Come on, cuz. We have a meeting with department heads, and we’re already late.”

  When the door shut and Callum was blessedly alone, some of his tension eased. He stared out at the garden again, watching the wind blow the naked limbs this way and that. He knew the feeling, the loss of control to outside forces—the impotence over the failure to shape your own destiny. He’d sworn never to feel that way again.

  If it meant he had to resist a golden-haired angel with the temper of the devil, so be it. He would ignore the momentary loss of control and find another woman to satisfy his needs. Angus was right. Tupping the help would not only be bad for business, it could dash any hopes the other four had. That and he still didn’t trust her. This diary could hold the secrets that could save them—or doom them to the hell they now suffered. He couldn’t chance it. Regret shifted through him when he realized he would enjoy sparring with the woman and slowly conquering her. But even as a surge of fire lit through his blood, Callum ordered his body and soul to ignore it.

  The clan was all that mattered.

  ANGUS

  Book Two

  A man who only believes in fact.

  Even after everything the Clan has endured, Angus has always held onto his scientific leanings. He isn’t a believer of instant attraction, so, he is surprised by the force of his attraction to Irishwoman Maggie O’Conner. He doesn’t trust her, but she soon become an obsession he can’t seem to shake.

  A woman who defies every logic.

  Single mother Maggie comes from a long line of magickal women, but she walked away from that part of her life. When Angus bursts into her life, she tries to ignore the handsome Scot, but soon finds that she needs his protection. She knows he’s not normal, bu
t she never expected him to be the one man who could capture her heart.

  A passion they could not deny.

  As they work together, their need for each other threatens to consume them both. But just as they close in on the next jewel, a new enemy emerges and puts everything they hold dear into jeopardy.

  Now enjoy this excerpt from Angus:

  Angus studied the clearing before them and stifled a sigh. How he had allowed his brother Logan to talk him into coming to see a witch was beyond rational thought. A fine mist was already starting to fall, but he could feel the change in the air. A storm was coming and they were going to be drenched before they returned to the holding.

  He glanced at Logan.

  “What are we doing here?” he asked. Angus would be the last to admit it out loud, but he had a horrible feeling about this. Logan would say Angus had an ability to foresee the future. Angus would say it was just a lesson he’d learned as a child. It wasn’t the first time Angus had to follow his brother into trouble.

  “Grandfather said that she has the Sight.”

  Angus rolled his eyes. The Sight. Who really believed in that nonsense? He studied Logan. His brother apparently did. Of course, artists were like that, believing in things that didn’t actually exist. From the time they were boys, Logan had lived in a dream world.

  With the current situation in Scotland, Angus didn’t see how Logan kept his dreamy perspective on life.

  “And, what does this have to do with me? Or you for that matter?”

  “Don’t you want to know what your future holds? What you will do with your life?”

  Unfortunately, Angus didn’t have that ability. Not really. His dreams at night didn’t allow him to ignore the future. If he disregarded the odd dreams he had been having over the last year, he could say that he would be a man of science. Inwardly, he snorted. What man of science dreams of things before they happen?

  Angus shook that thought away and squinted into the clearing in front of the house. Had the fog gotten thicker? His mind was playing a bit of trickery on him. He glanced at his brother, finding only eagerness on his face.

  “Why would you? Everyone knows you’re going to be an artist. So, I repeat, what the bloody hell are we doing here?”

  “I told him to bring you,” a scratchy female voice said from out of the doom. He had to fight the urge to scream. It tangled there in his throat, almost choking him. She cackled.

  He squinted at the woman as she hobbled forward. She was older, of course. Weren’t all witches little and old. But there was a brightness in her blue eyes that told him to be careful of her. She might appear fragile, but she wasn’t.

  “He’s just as you warned, Logan.”

  He glanced at his brother, again irritated. “You told her we were coming?”

  Logan shrugged. “She said she had a vision.”

  A vision of how to gain some money.

  “I ask nothing from you.”

  He let one brow rise, pulling another cackle from the witch.

  “You’ll do, Angus.” She motioned with her hand. “Come. We have much to discuss and there is not much time before.”

  He opened his mouth to ask before what, but she was already hurrying off to her cottage.

  “If you don’t believe in it, it shouldn’t really matter, right?” Logan asked, with amusement. Angus studied his younger brother, wondering how they could share the same blood. They looked alike in a way, but that is where the similarities ended. Logan believed in a dream world where fairies and witches frolicked in the forest.

  Still, Angus had a sense of curiosity that fueled his love of discovery. He couldn’t fight the temptation of learning something new or the challenge his brother presented.

  Without saying anything, he turned and walked to the cottage. Logan kept pace beside him.

  “For some reason, she wanted to see you. She mentioned you by name. How would she know your name?”

  “I’m the grandson of a laird. Most people would know my name. And your name, too.”

  The door was open when they reached it.

  “Hurry. Events are growing darker.”

  At the sound of her ominous tone, Angus rolled his eyes and stepped into the cottage. It wasn’t what he had imagined. No bats, no potions bubbling over the fire. He sniffed. There was some kind of soup simmering and fresh baked bread. The witch motioned toward them.

  “Come.”

  He did as ordered, just wanting to end this insanity. He stepped into the light and she squinted up at him.

  “You are not the one I would have chosen.”

  He glanced at Logan who shrugged.

  “Chosen?”

  She hummed. “Yes. For Titianna.”

  “Who?”

  She shook her head. “That might not be her name. Tis what I call her.”

  She closed her eyes and he exchanged another glance with his brother. Small birdlike fingers wrapped around his wrist. Her nails dug into his flesh.

  He gave her a narrowed look.

  “She will not be alone. There will be another. Another who needs you as much as she does.”

  Logan jabbed him with his elbow. “Ooch…looks like you are going to have more than one woman.”

  She gave Logan a look of admonition. “Not another woman, but a relative.”

  Her eyes slid shut again and the small space seemed to grow darker. She shivered. Cold burst through him, followed by a blast of heat. It spiraled through his blood and almost brought him to his knees. Pain sliced through his veins but in the next instant, it was gone. When she opened her eyes, they were black. She spoke, but not with her own voice.

  “There will be a time, long from now, when men can fly. You will seek her out, but not for the right reasons. In the end, the test will not be of the strength of your mind. That has always been strong. In some ways too strong.”

  “I told you she had the Sight,” Logan murmured, but Angus ignored him.

  “This will be a test of your heart and soul. It will rip you apart, sending your world into chaos; but if you choose the right path, she will be your salvation.”

  She released him then, and stumbled back. Logan grabbed her, keeping her from falling into the fire. He looked at Angus and he could tell his brother was wondering at Angus’ inaction. He could not speak. His heart was beating too hard, his head whirling with the visions she had spoken of.

  When the witch opened her eyes again, they were normal. “You have dreamed of it.”

  Cold fear slipped down his spine. “What?”

  “A time of men flying in the air and cities with buildings as tall as mountains. Horse carriages carry men from one place to another so fast it makes you dizzy. And you have dreamed of her—the one with the red hair.”

  “No.” But even to his own ears, he did not sound that convincing. He could feel his brother’s study. Angus ignored it. He needed out of there and away from the woman.

  He turned to leave.

  “You can run, Angus, but she will find you. It will be many years in the future. She will fight you, but she is your other half.”

  He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “My other half?”

  “Yes. Together, you can do anything you want, but hear me, Angus. Treat her well or you will regret it.”

  He turned to fully face her.

  “Is that a threat?”

  She smiled. “No, tis a fact. We don’t appreciate it when people hurt the women in our family. Heed my warning, or your world will turn dark. Darker than even the days we have ahead of us.”

  That stopped him. “Do you know something?”

  The smile she gave him held no humor, only sad knowledge. “Life as we know it—as you know it—will end. But, it means a new beginning. Remember Angus of the McLennans, that all things will be worse before they resolve. Now go.”

  She didn’t have to tell him again. He hurried out of the cottage, his mind clouded and his heart heavy.

  * * * *

  Tension le
ft the air in Callum’s study heavy. Angus rolled his shoulders trying to push away his worries. Of course, it didn’t work. The fact that Phoebe and Callum called a family meeting within hours of returning from their honeymoon definitely told Angus there was something big on the horizon.

  Since he hated waiting, Angus decided to get the ball rolling. “You’ve figured out where the next jewel is.”

  Anice, his younger cousin and the most optimistic of the Clan, jumped out of her seat, a smile curving her lips. “You have?”

  Callum and Phoebe exchanged a look. A sense of foreboding settled on his soul.

  “It’s not good news.” A statement from Fletcher. Angus glanced at his cousin, Anice’s older brother. If Anice was always optimistic, Fletcher was cold calculation.

  “No.” That one word from Callum sent vibrations of irritation through the room.

  “Oh, for goodness sake, Callum, stop drawing it out.” Phoebe shook her head. Brilliant in a way that not even Angus understood still, Phoebe had come to them months earlier to help with the witch’s diary. Since she and Callum had fallen in love, the bond had helped their clan grow stronger.

  Callum scowled up at her. “Love—”

  “Don’t love me. Lord, I don’t know why you have to act like you’re a character in Braveheart all the time.”

  Angus chuckled.

  “Shut up, Angus,” Callum warned.

  “Okay, let’s get on with it. I’ve work to get back to.” This came from Logan, who worked odd hours. He might be the head of their art department, but he was still an artist who hated to conform. He did a lot of his work at night.

  “Indeed,” Phoebe said with a smile. Then, it slowly faded. “I found some references in the witch’s diary to the emerald.”

  “You mentioned that a couple weeks before the wedding.”

  She nodded. “Well, we put a few feelers out and found it.”

  “So, Callum can buy it, we can put it in the sword, and then on to the next one,” Fletcher said. He always thought everyone had a price.

 

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