She shifted again, embarrassed when she felt the dampness in her knickers. She crossed her legs, hoping to ease the tension. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect. Moving about was just aggravating the situation. How the bloody hell could she keep herself from vaulting over the desk and jumping him? The man could get her hot with just a look. What would it be like if he actually touched her?
Mentally cursing, she shoved the thought away. He finished his call, but she didn’t look up, couldn’t. She didn’t want him to see her blushing, guess the thoughts running like an adult film through her head.
Silence descended on the room then. Unbearable, aggravating. Even as she looked over the notes she’d taken that day, her mind wandered. An itch formed between her shoulder blades, and as she always did in uncomfortable situations, she moved to fill the silence.
She risked a glance at him, almost grateful that he was reading something on his desk.
“You’re after some land?”
He didn’t look up. “Aye.”
“Here in Edinburgh?”
“No.”
She sighed. “Please, Mr. Lennon, don’t overwhelm me with conversation.”
His lips twitched. “I’m a man of few words.”
She laughed, and he looked up at her, his eyes warming and his lips curving as they shared a moment of amusement. Phoebe ignored the flip in her tummy.
With a sigh, he leaned back. “I’m looking to buy some land in the Highlands.”
“Hmm, I love that part of Scotland. I’ve only been up there once, but I’m hoping to make a trip up there.”
“Have you visited the Highlands before?”
She nodded. “Yes. Simon and I went there for our honeymoon. We stayed up at Balmoral.”
His smile faded, and he picked up his pen again to get back to work. “Yes, well—”
“Where in the Highlands?” It was rude, but she couldn’t help it. She told herself she wanted to know more about him to help with her research, but she knew better. Callum Lennon intrigued her, tempted her. Even the sound of his voice was a temptation, and when he turned that intense, intelligent gaze on her… She repressed a shiver.
“North of Inverness.”
“That narrows it down.”
His expression softened. “It’s old family land I’m trying to gain back.”
Again, he looked to get back to work, so she searched for something that would gain his interest. “How do you feel about the clan system having a laird still in charge of some of these estates?”
His narrowed gaze told her that she’d hit on a delicate subject. “’Tis our heritage.”
“I was at a debate a couple of years ago, listening to the pros and cons of it. It seems an archaic way of living.”
“The English can say nothing about our system being archaic. You’ve got a monarch who does nothing more than drain money.”
“The majority of tourists who come to London do so because of the monarch. So in a way, it funds our economy. I understand a lot of these estates are going bankrupt.”
“’Tis the fault of the laird in charge. If some of them would diversify, they wouldn’t have a problem. An estate costs a lot to run. Most of the castles are in disrepair and need an infusion of cash to return them to their grandeur. That’s just a small part. Another is the lack of interest among the younger generation. They’d rather live in Inverness or Glasgow, or even here in Edinburgh. Without youth, the estates are slowly dying. You also have an older generation that refuses to get their hands dirty with common work.”
The passion in his voice stunned her for a moment. It was the first time he’d voluntarily shown any emotion.
“You love the Highlands, the way of life.” She didn’t ask. She knew the answer. He nodded just the same. “Then why do you live here in Edinburgh?”
The animated look on his face faded. The unreadable mask returned. “For business.”
Before she could point out that he could do that anywhere, there was a quick knock at the door. Angus ambled in, tossed a smile in her direction, and then looked at his cousin.
“We’ve got a problem with the new computer system in the Glasgow plant.”
Callum glanced at her, apparently uneasy with her presence. She didn’t know if the cousins needed privacy or he was irritated with her. Either way, she wasn’t in the mood for an argument.
She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to call my mother. Since she’s in Tokyo giving a few lectures, and it’s almost seven in the evening there, I should call now.”
“There’s no need—”
Phoebe interrupted Angus’s denial. “No, really. I need to grab a bite to eat and ask my mother a question about Old English.”
“Exactly what are you going to ask her?” Callum’s voice was sharp with suspicion.
She ground her teeth together and told herself not to get irritated. Or rather, not to let him see it. With great effort, Phoebe curled her lips into a smile. “There were two words I was unsure of. I also needed the name of a book she’d recommended. If you’d like to see the words…” She picked up her notebook and held it out to Callum.
“I don’t think there’s any need for this,” Angus said, embarrassment ripe in his tone as he tossed his cousin a scowl.
Callum hadn’t moved. He still sat behind his desk. Clearly he was a man weighing his words. She wondered why he demanded such secrecy. She understood protecting one’s family. She’d done it herself with Simon, mostly because she’d had something to hide. Which begged the question, what did Callum Lennon not want the world to know?
“I understand,” she said finally. “I’m just as suspicious when I am working a site. We have to be careful that nothing goes missing or we would be liable to the government of whatever country we are in. This is, after all, what I agreed to.”
And maybe if she appeared reasonable, he would loosen up and she’d discover what he’d worked so bloody hard to conceal. The man was a mystery in so many ways, and like good any archeological puzzle, she was motivated to solve him.
Callum finally took the book and flipped through the pages.
Angus tried to fill the awkward silence. “I’d like to get together and go over what you’ve found so far.”
She turned her attention to Angus and tried to ignore the brooding man molesting her notebook. “I would like that, too. I haven’t found much, yet. At present, I’m trying to figure out the code. I would prefer to use the Internet.” But they knew she wasn’t allowed to be online without Callum present.
“I miss research,” Angus commiserated. “IT is fun. I like computers and technology, but I truly miss getting my hands into a good project.”
Phoebe nodded, smiling as some of her tension drained away. “I don’t know if I could ever give it up. It’s been part of my life for so long I would feel as if I’d lost a family member if I quit.”
Angus opened his mouth to respond, but Callum slammed the book shut, shattering the easy atmosphere.
“There’s nothing to be worried about here. I don’t think the conversation will take more than thirty minutes. Angus?” Callum asked.
“Yes, if that.”
With a nod at each of the cousins, she hurried out of the office. She didn’t slow down until she reached her room. A light on her mobile was blinking indicating she’d missed a call. She knew without looking that it was McWalton.
Even before she had time to flip open the phone, it rang again.
“Yes?”
There was a pause, as if he hadn’t expected her to answer. “Dr. Chilton, how are things going?”
“Fine.”
Another pause. She knew that McWalton weighed and measured every word she uttered. And even though it drove her a little mental, she waited.
“I was wondering if you could meet me this week?”
“I can’t make it to Inverness—”
“I’m in Edinburgh. I thought before I headed back up north, we could meet.”
She hesitated. That
he was here in the city bothered her. She wasn’t sure why, or why she should find it so suspicious, but something tingled at the base of her spine.
“I work most days, all day. But I guess I could try to make it into the city this Friday.”
“That’s good. There’s a little shop on High Street. It is convenient to the library, if you have a reason to drop in there.”
She agreed, given how little choice she had. After gaining directions from him, she rang off, eager to be rid of him. She’d never met him face to face, so she assumed this was a good sign. Nonetheless, it rankled that she had to find time out of her day to do it. Lord knew she could use a break from the heavy, sensual presence of Callum Lennon, but it meant she had to be deceptive again. Unless she went to the library instead of calling her mother. It would definitely be a more pleasant experience. And if she actually did research, she wouldn’t be lying about her trip.
With her plans set, she decided to freshen up, eat, and get back to work. If she had to take a day off, she needed to get a bit more done.
* * * *
Callum tucked his shirt into his pants, the silence in the room growing more ominous and oppressive by the minute.
“I don’t understand you.” Calista’s voice held an odd combination of irritation and curiosity. He glanced at her. She sat amongst a tangle of her favorite black silk sheets, the very picture of a woman ready to be debauched. And damn him, but he’d wanted to be the one to do it. Or thought he had. She still wore the red lace pushup bra and matching thong, not to mention a disgruntled expression. He couldn’t blame her.
“I didn’t ask for understanding.” He zipped up his pants and buckled his belt as she rose from the bed.
“Don’t give me that rubbish.”
He reached for his tie and said nothing. With a huff, she headed for her wet bar. As he watched her, he realized that normally he would take pleasure in viewing the tall, athletic Calista walk through her apartment nearly naked. They’d known each other for several years, and she had always been a favorite bed partner to him. A ruthless business woman with a penchant for bondage, she was perfect for him—or had been up until five minutes ago. No commitment, no ties, just a quick, raw shag.
That’s why it made no sense that he hadn’t been able to close the deal today. His body was ready for a good fuck. Hell, it was fairly screaming for relief. But he’d had his mouth on her flesh and had found himself repulsed. His body rejected the idea of using Calista. It wasn’t that he didn’t think he could go through with it. His libido was alive and kicking, but something was holding him back.
“Who is she?”
“She?” She said nothing in response, only raised one sculpted eyebrow. “We never had an exclusivity agreement.”
She pulled out a crystal decanter and a glass. “No, and we still don’t. But it never stopped you from shagging me senseless until today.”
He paused then continued to straighten his tie. “Now who’s speaking rubbish?”
She poured two fingers of scotch and downed it in one fast swallow.
“Don’t take me for a fool. I know when a man’s mind isn’t on me.”
“You’re making this out to be more than it is. I’m merely distracted today.”
“Callum.” She waited until he made eye contact. There was no anger, no recriminations burning in her gaze. He almost wished there was. That would be easier to swallow than her sadness. “You were ready for a fast, hard shag. I could tell when you called. You get here and you can’t—something that has never happened before.”
“I’ve had some issues with the family.” Which was true—to a point.
“Callum—”
“Bloody hell, Calista, leave it alone.”
Her eyes widened at his temper. It was something he tried to hide from everyone, even his family, and he was pretty sure she’d never seen him angry. He shrugged into his suit jacket and then his coat. He approached her and brushed his lips against her cheek. She smelled of lilies, as she always did. “I’ll give you a ring next week.”
She pulled back and studied him, then said, “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t want me to call you?”
“I’d love it.” She shook her head. “But I don’t think I’ll hear from you.”
Too uncomfortable with her words—and the idea they may be true—Callum left without another word. He stepped into the lift, pushed the button, and let out an aggravated sigh the moment the doors shut.
He’d called Calista when he’d escaped to Edinburgh. After five days with Phoebe in his office, he’d been happy for the break. With Phoebe occupied for a few hours at the library with her research, he’d assumed he could take the edge off with Calista and a bit of bed sport. Since Calista was Phoebe’s direct opposite in personality and looks, he’d hoped she would clear his head of the good doctor.
Instead, it had the direct opposite effect. He had Calista gasping, begging for release, and he couldn’t do it. In his mind, he knew he wanted—needed—the relief, wanted to give her satisfaction, but every fiber rejected it. There was no doubt he could return and finish it up right now. All it would take was a bit of cajoling, and he could have Calista back in bed. He could use her, and knowing her like he did, she wouldn’t object. But he just couldn’t order his finger to press the button to her floor. He didn’t want the sleek, athletic body. No, when he closed his eyes, his soul craved a different woman. One with curves, a tumble of blond curls, and mermaid eyes.
The lift’s doors slid open silently, and Callum stepped off, his temper still brewing, his libido still humming. Just what the hell was he going to do? The woman was in his head, and he couldn’t push her out, even when touching another woman.
Callum was sure pretty words and promises were something Phoebe Chilton would expect. With one marriage behind her, he got the feeling that she would want another—not to mention children. She just seemed the type of woman who would thrive in a marriage. He could never offer her that, even if he wanted to. It annoyed him every time she brought up her late husband. Her passing reference to her honeymoon on Wednesday had him forcing back a growl of frustration. Why did it bother him if she had gone to the Highlands with another man? And why did the need to be the one to show her his homeland almost suffocate him? It didn’t help that Angus sensed his irritation and brought up her husband on a regular basis.
Bloody curse! He just had to keep his hands off Phoebe and all would be well. If he didn’t, Callum knew any liaison with her would fuck things up—especially in his head. The future of the Lennon clan was on the line, and as Angus had said a few days ago, this might be their last chance. If there was even the smallest of possibilities that the diary held the secrets to end their suffering, he couldn’t chance it. On top of that, he didn’t trust anyone outside of the family, and especially not an Englishwoman. Everyone had agreed it was best that she work in his office. Even Anice, who still wanted to believe the best of Phoebe, admitted that it would be prudent to keep the book safely locked up. And if the bloody doctor didn’t finish her damned research soon, he was going to go out of his bleeding mind. Or fuck her on his desk.
From the moment she’d lost herself in the research the first day, he’d been in a state of arousal. Their discussion a couple of days ago hadn’t helped, or the way she’d stared at him while he’d been on the phone. Just watching her skin flush with excitement, the way her breathing had hitched and the wary arousal had blossomed in her eyes, almost had him vaulting over his desk to reach her. His body had been screaming for the relief he knew he could find buried deep within her body. Hell, his hands had shook with need, and he’d almost acted on it, had almost taken her. And he could have. He’d sensed her arousal. It was plain on her face. The fact that she wouldn’t object added another level to his lust. Every primal instinct urged him to mount and conquer. Thankfully, Alastair had pulled him back from the brink with just a quick comment, and he’d turned away before he’d made an ass of himself.
He b
lamed the woman. Every time she found something new or discerned a clue, she gasped and sighed. It wasn’t even sexual, but his cock didn’t seem to care. Just seeing the look of rapt study as she read the diary left him hard, and after she retired at the end of the day, her scent lingered. He needed this break, a quick shag, and then he would be fine. But he knew now that wouldn’t happen.
A strong gust of wind hit him, pulling him out of his irritating memories. He tugged up the collar on his coat and stepped off the curb to cross the street. Anice had asked if he would pick up a watch she’d had repaired, and while he usually hated doing errands like this, he’d latched onto the idea of spending more time away from Phoebe. It only took a few minutes to finish his task, and he was heading for the door. As he pulled it open to exit, the object of his thoughts tumbled in right into his arms.
Chapter Four
The instant Callum touched Phoebe, his body reacted. His pulse jumped as most of the blood in his brain headed south. The cold air that rushed in behind her did little to cool him. He tried to right her, but she slipped and laughed. The sound of it sent a rush of heat racing down his spine. When she finally stood up and tossed her hair out of her face, her eyes widened, her lips parted, and a flush of heat filled her cheeks with a delightful blush. She looked like a woman who had just had a good tumble. Since he hadn’t seen her in a few hours, perhaps she had. After the debacle at Calista’s, the thought that she had succeeded in a liaison when he could not both provoked and disturbed him.
“Oh, my.” Her breathy voice held a note of worry and something that sounded like arousal. It slipped beneath his skin, danced along his nerve endings. “I didn’t think to find you here.”
He still hadn’t let go of her arms—and didn’t want to. They stood there blocking the doorway as he fought the urge to pull her closer.
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