Jared felt something cold press at his neck. “Are you suggesting Kincade was a spy?”
“Not exactly. Hell, I don’t know what I’m suggesting. I’m just presenting patterns, offering possibilities. It’s what you asked me to do, remember?”
“So I did.” Jared rubbed his neck. Was it possible that Maggie’s father had used his business as a cover for transporting official secrets? “There’s another possibility,” he said slowly. “He could have been working for his own government.”
Izzy shrugged. “Hard to say. They don’t exactly post a little red flag beside the names of their operatives.”
“Keep looking, Izzy. If he was on official business, that would change everything.”
“Governments don’t usually turn on their own operatives.”
“No, they don’t.” Jared put his hand on a leaded glass window while possibilities whirled through his head. “Did you check with our usual government sources?”
“I tried. They swallowed their tongues on this one.”
“It’s nice to know that some things are beyond you, Izzy. Restores my faith in humanity.” Jared’s smile faded quickly. “Keep at it. And step up surveillance on that Dutch jeweler Maggie went to visit If he goes running, I want backup and immediate notification. In all your spare time, take a closer look at that French microwave company. The sooner we know what Daniel Kincade was working on before he disappeared, the sooner we’ll know who is trying to track Maggie.”
“Roger that.” Izzy headed to the door, then turned. “By the way, give my regards to the lady.”
“What lady?”
Izzy gave a slow smile. “The one who’s got your glasses fogged up. Makes me glad to know even a hard case like you can get KO’d.” His eyes narrowed as he glanced over Jared’s shoulder. “Speaking of ladies, you’d better brace for impact. Looks like one over there bearing down full throttle. I don’t think I’ll be staying around for the fallout.”
“What do you mean, Izzy? Who—”
“Are you the one?” She was twentyish with a storm of carrot-red hair. Dressed in rubber gardening boots and a faded green suede jacket, she was stunning and clearly furious.
“Am I the one what?”
Her fists settled on her hips. “The man my cousin Maggie is having an affair with?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Affair?” Jared repeated.
“That’s right. Unless you want to call it something worse.”
Jared stared. The woman was about five feet, four inches tall. Her worn denim pants were streaked with potting soil on both knees, as if she had just come from gardening Her hands, at least what he could see of them, were mottled with dirt.
Abruptly, her identity clicked in. This was the cousin with the landscape design firm. But how had she known that he and Maggie were involved? And how had she gotten past Marston? He held out his hand. “You must be Faith, Maggie’s cousin. I’m—”
Her hands dug into her hips. “Don’t try to charm me, Commander MacNeill. I know exactly who you are. I also know my cousin. Maggie’s terribly vulnerable with this exhibition coming up, and it wouldn’t take much for a clever, unprincipled man to worm past all her defenses. So, are you that man?”
Clearly, Faith Kincade had no problem speaking her mind, but Jared wasn’t about to discuss his love life with a complete stranger, even if she was Maggie’s relative. “I’m not sure where you got the impression that your cousin and I were involved.”
He was still holding out his hand.
She stared at his fingers as if they were dead fish. “Where doesn’t matter. And I notice you didn’t answer my question.”
“Maggie and I are not having an affair.” Jared wasn’t sure what he would call it, but it wasn’t an affair. He wasn’t sure any single word would do justice to the feelings he had for Maggie. “And if we were,” he continued smoothly, “I certainly wouldn’t tell you. Any news would be hers to break.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Where’s Maggie?”
“Up at the house, I believe. Would you like for me to find her?”
“No!” Faith frowned as she moved restlessly through the room, straightening an asparagus fern and pinching dry leaves off a dwarf orange. “What a mess. Lord Draycott obviously needs help choosing his gardening staff. And you can forget about finding Maggie. She’ll murder me if she knows I’m here checking up on her.” She gave Jared a sharp, assessing look. “And count on it, I am checking up on her. I want to be certain she’s not in over her head.”
Jared studied her right back. “Are all Kincades so interested in each other’s business?”
“Trust me, I’m the least interfering of the lot. Chessa would have wrung out every detail by now, and you wouldn’t have known what hit you. Finesse, that’s her style. Me, I go right for the jugular.”
“I’m very glad to hear it.”
“No you aren’t, but you’re a good liar, Commander.”
Jared turned a rusted iron garden chair back onto its feet. “Would you like to sit down while you conduct your interrogation?”
“I don’t think so. Something tells me I’d better stay on my feet. Tell me what’s going on?”
At that moment Marston panted up from the courtyard. “Oh, you’ve met Ms. Kincade, I see. I was going off to find Maggie.”
“I skipped out on him,” Faith finished, entirely unrepentant. “I wasn’t about to give him any time to think up an elaborate story.”
“Thank you, Marston. I’ll see Ms. Kincade back to the house when we’ve finished here.”
“Very well, Commander.”
As soon as Marston left, Faith rounded on Jared. “Well? Exactly what’s your interest in my cousin?”
Jared chose his words carefully. “Some odd things have happened since Maggie arrived in London. I’m trying to find out why.”
“It’s her father again, isn’t it?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Isn’t it always?” Abruptly Faith turned and clicked her tongue over a sagging camellia. “Don’t you know these things have to be watered on a rotation cycle?” She shoved up her sleeves and dumped the straggling plant on to a nearby potting table. “Anything will thrive in the right soil with proper sun and water.” She eased the plant from a packed ball of clay and inspected the roots. “Still intact. In another week it would have been beyond help.” She tipped soil into the pot, slid in the plant, covered the roots. “What kind of things?”
Jared blinked, then realized she was talking about Maggie’s situation, not the plant she was repotting. “We were attacked and nearly run down by a backhoe. Then someone broke into her hotel room in London.” He decided not to mention the recent bomb incident.
“What? She never said a word to me. I’m going to murder her myself,” Faith muttered, elbow-deep in potting soil.
“She was right not to tell you. The fewer people who know about this the better.”
Faith looked up, anger flaring in her eyes. .”I’m not anyone, Commander, I’m her cousin. Maggie and I don’t keep secrets from each other.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve got professional written all over you A Scotsman, too. There’s nothing like a man in a kilt.” She measured him some more. “Why don’t you have the accent?”
“We moved a good bit while I was growing up. Now it comes and goes.”
“Or you make it come and go. Very useful when you’re romancing the ladies.” She gave him no time to answer. “There, it’s finished. See that it’s watered daily for a week. Standard fertilizer after a month.” She looked around the room, brushing her hands and leaving another streak of dirt over her chin. “Unforgivable to let a beautiful old place like this go to ruin.”
“I’ll pass on your message to Lord Draycott.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll tell him myself.”
Jared had no doubt that she would. He had the firm impression that where any growing thing was concerned, Faith Kincade would be relentless. “Why did you ask if this had to do with
Maggie’s father?”
“Whenever things went wrong in Maggie’s life, her father was usually involved. My uncle was never home—not when it counted.” She swept her hair up off her shoulders with a sigh. “Even after he died, the problems didn’t stop.”
“What kind of problems?”
Her lips pursed “Are you good at what you do? Can you guarantee you’ll keep Maggie safe?”
“I’m good.” At one time he had been the very best. But that was before he’d spent fourteen months inside a box buried under two feet of Asian dirt. “I’ll be protecting Maggie every minute until this is settled. No one is going to get past me.”
“Even if it means risking your own neck?”
“There’s no halfway about security. An explosion goes off or it doesn’t and there’s no way to take a bullet halfway, Ms. Kincade.”
“I hope you mean that. Because if anything happens to Maggie—”
Jared heard the break in her voice. “We’re doing all we can. Unfortunately, there aren’t enough facts for us to be sure of anything right now.”
She rubbed her neck, spreading a line of dirt beneath her ear and paying no attention whatsoever. “So what do you know, Commander?”
In just a few moments Jared had come to know many things about Faith Kincade. She could be a tigress when her principles or her design skills were called into question. She also appeared to be fiercely loyal to her cousins and prone to meddling when she thought it was necessary. There was an easy way to find out if she had any other information she wasn’t telling him.
Jared leaned closer. “You’ve got some dirt on your neck.” Calmly he brushed at the long black smudge and concentrated on Faith Kincade.
He slipped under the irritation and the bravado to find shadows and an old sadness. Another swift brush left Jared with the impression that the source of that sadness was a man, but he probed no deeper, unwilling to uncover secrets that did not involve Maggie.
He stepped back. “Maggie’s father is involved.”
“We were told her father is dead.”
“According to official reports. As you know, his remains were never conclusively identified.”
Faith Kincade’s dirty fingers drummed restlessly on an overturned terra-cotta pot. “Do you believe that he’s alive?”
Jared made an impatient movement with his hand. “What I believe is irrelevant. Someone has been watching Maggie, stalking her and harassing her. Either he suspects that Maggie has something of value, or he feels that she is the best way of getting at her father, who they think is still alive.”
Faith went pale. “How are you going to stop him?”
“I’m going to stay with her. I’m going to watch her and keep her safe, even when it makes her madder than hell.”
Faith smiled a little sadly. “She was so excited about this trip to England. Now this.”
“What was her father like?”
Faith turned to pace the room. “He could be funny and charming. There isn’t a stone he couldn’t identify or a facet he couldn’t make better. But he was reckless and irresponsible with those who loved him most and I’ll never forgive him for that.”
“You don’t appear to have trouble speaking your mind.”
Something came and went in her eyes, and then she shrugged. “Don’t change the subject. We’re talking about Maggie. She has the true Kincade stubbornness, and she wouldn’t take a penny from any of us. His debts were her responsibility, and she meant to handle them herself.”
Jared frowned. “So she sold his inventory, painful or not.”
“How did you know that?”
“Because I was there. I saw her do it. An amazing sight, it was.” Jared remembered exactly how she’d looked in black silk and gray pearls. It wasn’t something a man would ever forget.
Faith eyed him closely. “You must be the one who threw the reporter out the door.”
Jared smiled, not saying a word.
“For the record, she hasn’t had many men in her life, Commander. She’s not like Chessa, our cousin, who must have been through half the New York City phone book. Strictly the better half, of course.” Faith stared into Jared’s eyes, as if trying to probe his mind and heart. “Take care of her,”
“I intend to.”
“Good.” Her head tilted. A devilish gleam shot through her eyes. “And for the record, I’m glad you two are together.”
“I didn’t say that—”
“You didn’t need to. It’s written all over your face. Just treat her right, so I don’t have to come back and cripple you for life.”
Jared hid a smile. He had to be a foot taller, yet she was issuing the threats. “I’ll keep it in mind, Ms. Kincade.”
“Faith,” she corrected. “Something tells me we’re going to be close. Maybe even family. Now I’d better scram. If Maggie finds me interfering, you and I will be in serious trouble.”
Her boots squished softly as she padded over the lawn and back toward the drive.
~ ~ ~
Ten minutes later, Jared looked up and felt his heart kick. Maggie was walking over the grass in blue jeans and a white shirt, with her hair floating out around her.
His knees went weak at the sight of her.
He tossed down his gloves and crossed the last distance, pulling her into his arms. “Good morning,” he said softly, bringing her palm to his mouth.
“It is now. You should have wakened me.”
“Impossible. Not unless I had solder and pliers to sell. You were working hard in your sleep.”
“Well, I’m not working now.” She brought her hands to his chest. “Are you?”
“No,” he said huskily, seduced beyond measure by her voice, by the brush of her hands. “Maggie, no matter what happened last night—”
“You think it was a mistake?”
“Never.” He stopped and tried again. “Damn it, there are reasons we shouldn’t be involved,” he said, trying one last time to be sane while his mind slowly turned into sawdust.
“You don’t turn into a werewolf at midnight, do you? Will you dreeenk my blood?”
Even now she could make him forget the darkness and laugh like a love-struck boy.
“Not lately.” He looked down to see a black blob launched at his foot. The blob barked once, then attacked Maggie’s knee with furious exuberance.
“Down, Max.”
The puppy gave another high, straining leap.
“Don’t yell at him, Jared. He’s lonely.”
“He’s not lonely, he’s dangerous.” Jared frowned as another gob of puppy saliva covered his shoe. “Down, Max,” he ordered. “Go find your own friend. This one’s already taken.”
Somewhere up the hill they heard Marston’s call, then a low whistle. Max ran around them once, then streaked off, ears back and tail flapping.
“Who’d have thought Max was such a fair-weather friend?” Maggie said, laughing.
“No, just a realist. He’s probably gone off in search of food. He had filet mignon for breakfast today. Marston’s spoiling him rotten.”
“Prim, proper Marston? Another tough guy with a heart of gold,” Maggie whispered, nuzzling Jared’s ear.
“Are you suggesting that I…”
“Absolutely.” Her hands slid around his neck, and she pressed her body against him, tantalizing and slow. “Got a problem with that, MacNeill?”
He tried to think. He tried very hard. Suddenly complicated brain processes were entirely beyond him. “Problem?” he repeated blankly.
Then he put all his reservations behind him and bent his head slowly, knowing she expected speed and hot possession. Instead he brought her racing tenderness and the gentle brush of his palm on the curve of her breast. He was determined to be different, the man she would always remember.
He cupped her face with his palm. “You make me feel savage. Maybe you should worry about what happens when the moon rises.”
“In that case, I guess I’ll be giving blood early this year
.” She bit gently at his lip. “Or maybe I’ll do some conquest of my own.”
“No need. You’ve already seduced, invaded, and conquered completely. I’d given up, Maggie.” He trapped her mouth for a hungry kiss that had them both breathless.
The sunlight was a drifting, physical presence around them as he caressed the fine line of her cheek. “I’ve waited too long to feel this way,” he whispered.
“What way?”
“Remembering old dreams, dreams I was absolutely certain were dead. Don’t ask me why, Maggie. Feeling this way is enough. So I’m damned well going to enjoy it. I’m going to see that you do, too.” The words came roughly against her brow.
Maggie looked up at him. Her heart took several jerky beats that intensified the sense that she’d been dunked deep and stripped of air. “Jared, there was something I was supposed to tell you. Nicholas. He’s inside—” She closed her eyes. Tried to think. “He said—never mind what he said. Just kiss me.”
His eyes glinted like silver sent to the flow point. “That I will,” he said roughly. His head bent as he gathered her close. “But you’d better hold on, my love, because it’s going to be a hot, bumpy ride.”
~ ~ ~
From his sunny office, Nicholas Draycott looked outside, where two people were silhouetted against the old conservatory. Behind him the door opened.
“Nicky, are you in here?”
“Right here, love.” Nicholas turned, and as always his heart skipped at the sight of his wife.
“I couldn’t find you anywhere.” Kacey straightened her husband’s lapel and smiled as he tugged her into his arms.
“I told you not to come,” Nicholas said tensely. “There have been too many problems down here. I don’t want you and Genevieve hurt.”
“Your daughter is fine, ensconced on a chair in the kitchen with Marston, singing raucous ballads and eating fresh peanut butter cookies.” Her words faded on a sigh as he kissed her thoroughly.
A Highlander for Christmas Page 29