by India Kells
Mac stayed silent, letting him finish.
“You talk about flaws, but you forget about me. Even if I may appear so, I’m not out of the woods, not yet. I don’t sleep well; I have trouble eating. If I were you, I would run.”
“And if I don’t?”
Wesley hunched his shoulders. “We can’t change the past. If we don’t go our separate ways, the only option left is to go forward. Together.”
“You’re proposing quite a gamble, Sorenson. What if what is growing between us isn’t strong enough?”
“Mac, the only way is if we take the leap. What do you think about free fall?”
Mac smiled and took a step toward him. And then another. “I remember being sick during training. But as we fall, I’ll try to keep my composure.”
A smile touched his lips. “Thank God, I could get sick in sympathy.”
Now, she chuckled, her heart lifting. “I like that side of you.”
“Which one?”
“The funny, sarcastic side, so similar to Lance. That’s what I like about your brother.”
“Do you?”
She nodded and let him draw her in his embrace. “Yeah, just because he makes me laugh. The same thing when he proposed. Even when he told me he was gay, I was tempted to say yes anyway.”
The twinkle of amusement made his eyes shine. “Is that so? Then, I’ll have to get back this side of me. It has become a little rusty, though.”
Her arms circled his waist, her blanket falling to the floor. His embrace tightened, his body heat keeping her warm.
“I will work on it, Mac, but I need a little incentive.”
Mac tried to keep a serious composure, but failed. His newfound playfulness was contagious. “And what kind of incentive do you have in mind?”
Still grinning, he kissed her. How weird such a simple gesture made her world right again. Wesley kept it light and she only let him lead, needing to re-establish the connection she had broken. It’s when her body shivered that she realized they were still there, barefoot, half-naked in a drafty attic.
Wesley straightened and started rubbing her arms. “We should go. I think the Lady of Almirth accomplished her mission.”
Yawning, Mac nodded. Her body was torn between staying awake and letting go.
“When was the last time you had some shut eye, Mac?”
She angled her head to him. “And you, Wes?”
His grin turned into a grimace. “Even if I would sell my soul to make love to you, I think we should go to sleep. If we hurry, we can still have a decent six hours.”
“If you come to my room, I’ll even settle for seven. But only if you stay by my side. Just in case.”
“In case of what?”
Mac took his hand and grabbed the blanket, leading him to the stairs. “In case I see a ghost.”
Chapter 31
Mac couldn’t move. Her mind was still fuzzy with sleep, and when she tried to roll over, it was impossible to move a muscle. Well, not quite, her toes still worked. She dared to open her eyelids and that’s when she smiled, realizing the cause of her predicament. Contentment flared inside of her. Wesley had wrapped his entire body around her, keeping her close to his chest. It was a miracle she wasn’t sweating to death, but it was probably because he had pushed all the covers aside. Her only blanket was Wes. She looked up at his face and he was frowning. No. Not frowning, his expression somewhat focused. What was he dreaming about?
He wasn’t sleeping well, nightmares plagued him, reducing his rest to short bursts. When they came back to her room after midnight, they only slipped under the covers and she remembered being the one snaking herself around his body. His arms closed on her and they fell asleep. Simple as that. Did they put an alarm on? From the angle of the sunlight streaming inside her room, it was still early and in reality, if something arose, they would be called. Mac settled again, her nose against his skin, her eyes closing once more.
“You’re awake.” The rumble still half in slumber made her smile.
“Go back to sleep. We have time.”
Groaning, he put his face in her hair. His breathing relaxed as he returned to sleep. For a long moment, she enjoyed the steadiness of his chest moving, the air he exhaled that tickled her red strands. Mac didn’t want to think about anything else, so she focused solely on him.
She had probably fallen asleep again, too, because it took her time to realize someone was knocking at her door. Or trying to play some sort of rhythmic tune?
Wesley woke with a start and reached instinctively for his gun when the door opened.
“Auntie Ellie!” Lance came in, a large grin on his face and clear mischief in his step.
Wesley relaxed and fell back on the bed, putting an arm over his eyes.
Mac rubbed her jaw before getting into a seated position.
“Good morning, Lance.” She glanced at the clock and it was past 8 a.m. Wow, she was surprised they had slept that long, and she was even more delighted that Wesley was able to get what resembled a decent night of rest.
Lance ignored the two groaning humans in bed and let himself fall on it before sitting again. “I figured you two were on reconciliation mode when I went to get Wesley this morning. And as now you’re officially the aunt of the beautiful angel girl and therefore your sex life is over, I decided to barge in and show you pictures!”
It was impossible to stay mad at the crazy loon. “From what I understand, it’s when you have your own kids that the sex is gone. Not when you become an aunt.”
Grinning, Lance got his phone out. “I took photos of the happy family before they were sent out to the safe house. Jenny says to tell you that everything went well. She’s still debating the name of the baby with her husband, but she was certain she would win.”
The blond man passed his phone and Mac stayed silent for a long moment, looking at the small infant tightly wrapped in pink. Something stirred deep inside of her. Not that she was yearning for a child—not yet anyway—but this little pink angel was the first heir of her brother. Her niece. Family. Unknowingly, she traced the crinkled nose and plump cheeks with her fingertips. Words came amiss. Wesley, who was now looking at her, put a hand on her knees.
“She’s beautiful.” And Mac passed the phone to him.
Lance nodded. “I don’t know which names they are debating on, I suggested some options, but I think they were too original or not Scottish enough.”
Wesley snorted. “Yeah, for a man who suffered being named Lancelot when he was young, I thought you would steer clear from anything out of the ordinary.”
“Lancelot?” Mac bit her lip.
Lance shrugged. “No idea why they chose it. Thank God, Lance is the one commonly used.”
“Apart from the wake-up call service, any news about what happened to the health center? Or of Calvi?”
Lance turned business serious in a mere second, all smiles vanished. “The police are investigating, but they will dig for nothing. The men of Calvi will be autopsied, but once more, they won’t find anything apart from what was already known. Still trying to figure out how Calvi could get out. We surrounded the damn building. My guess is that he prepared a good spot and escaped out later, when we were all gone.”
Wesley pushed himself up to lean against the headboard, one hand tracing Mac’s spine idly as he thought out loud. “Possible, he already knew that was the place where Jenny was supposed to give birth. He had some time to scout the area. Another proof was that he used the ventilation system against us. Wise, as a real fire would be hard to start and control, and even revealed to be a problem for him and his men.”
Mac nodded. “So now, what’s left for him to attack? The castle. He lost Matthew and Jenny, so that leaves me. He has no choice but to come after me.”
Wes’ hand stopped mid-stroke. “And that is a good thing?”
Mac twisted to look at him. As she did, she touched his arm. “He doesn’t have the layout of the castle. We have boosted security and the guards are
experienced. Most of the regular staff have been sent on vacation. If we aren’t airtight, we are close to it.”
Lance pursed his lips. “I would agree with you, if not from the Yuletide Ball.”
Mac winced, and looked at the ceiling. “I forgot about that. I have to try to convince Gabrielle to cancel it. When is it? In three days?”
“Two days, and Jenny threatened to come in person if she heard that the ball was canceled. And I’m not telling you what your brother said. They agreed to go underground only because of what happened at the Almirth Clinic, and the ball remains on the table. What I can repeat is that he trusts you to take the lead and be a great hostess.”
“It’s too much of a risk. There will be throngs of people, outside staff, the caterer, the musicians. How can we control the crowd, make sure Calvi doesn’t come in carrying a machine gun in his pocket?”
“Gabrielle is working on it. And with Sully they’re planners extraordinaire. That was the last message I had to tell you both. Meeting in one hour. Strategy review as per Gabrielle.”
“Is there anything left to eat in the kitchen or you dogs have licked all the crumbs from the cupboards?”
Lance pushed himself away from the bed and walked to the door, a grin on his face.
“The words have traveled among the teams that you’re an outstanding baker. I think half the men are waiting for your talented ass to come down.”
Wesley threw a pillow at his brother as he was escaping with a chuckle.
“I’m not baking for any of them,” Mac said, letting herself fall back on the bed.
Wesley stretched next to her and put his face in his hand. “And for me?”
Mac turned her head. “Mmmm … I don’t know. I’m still tired, it would definitely require strong motivation.”
A predator’s gleam in his eyes, he started crawling over her. “I think I can convince you, if you let me try.”
A smile on her face, she prepared for his attack. “Oh, please try, Mr.Sorenson.”
Chapter 32
Mac tried to massage the kink in her neck without a lot of success. She thought that using her father’s study, which was probably now Matthew’s, would provide a better workspace than what she had in her old room. Plus, she longed for some open sky over her head. If she ought to be kept inside, she would enjoy the windows as much as possible.
The day, which had started with an amazing love-making session with Wesley followed by baked cinnamon buns, had quickly turned to work. As Lance had told them, the Yuletide Ball was in less than forty-eight hours and Mac was the only one with the knowledge of all the possible guests that were supposed to come for the party. So it was up to her to put together the files for the security teams. The right face with the right name. She jogged her memory to make sure she remembered the people correctly as most of them came from quite a distant past.
The last ball she attended was her debutante ball. A souvenir she’d rather forget. And with great luck, all pictures of that awful moment were now erased or destroyed.
Memories took the best of her, as images of the last Yuletide Ball with her family started to form before her eyes. Everything gleamed and she could almost smell the Christmas trees her parents placed in every room of the castle. Just before the guests arrived, her parents would come down the main stairs like glamorous movie stars—her mother in a forest-green silk dress, her father in full kilt regalia. Her mind couldn’t remember what she was wearing or what Matthew looked like, but instead recalled how she felt. Proud with deep love and tenderness. At most times she was at odds with her parents. However, in celebration, when all the family was gathered, especially at Christmas, she chose to stop the fight. An unofficial cease fire, that every one of them observed religiously. Another image was one of her father, opening the festivities by escorting her mother to the dance floor and gliding with her around as the musicians played.
Melancholy clogged her throat and blurred her vision. As she rubbed her eyes, someone entered the room. Wes.
“You won’t help your eyes, by treating them like that.” He came behind her and started massaging her shoulders.
“Gabrielle wants the list?”
Wesley made a sound that may have meant anything. Instead of making him repeat it, she leaned back even more to his touch.
“I like that.” His voice had a new tone to it.
Mac opened her eyes and looked at him. “Like what?”
“You. When you make a decision, you don’t do it halfway, do you?”
“Okay, now, you’re not making any sense.”
Instead of answering her, he kissed the top of her head, while gently pulling at her ponytail.
“I came here to confirm you didn’t lose your sanity over the list of guests, and also to give you an update about the security upgrades.”
“I will need a few minutes to get my mind around anything else but a bunch of rich ladies and lords of the manor.”
“Isn’t this the pot calling the kettle black?”
“Come again?”
Wesley opened his arms, gestured the study. “And you wouldn’t put yourself in the same group of wealthy hotshots? The villagers referred to you as Lady MacKinnon, after all.”
Mac twisted in her chair. “All this is for the heir of the MacKinnons, my brother. They may still call me Lady, but Jenny is now the one who should have that name.”
“And the money?”
She shrugged. “It sits somewhere in an account. My inheritance from my parents. Weird that I received any. I was such a disappointment to them, I thought they struck me out of their will. Twice I tried to give the money back to my brother, twice he refused. I don’t need it, and despite all of you can see, running an estate such as this, is a money pit. It’s a miracle they can maintain it and even spend the Yuletide Ball funds on charities. But Matt always had a way with money. A talent. That alone makes him the rightful heir.”
Mac paused for a second. “Too bad Calvi isn’t after riches, I may have been able to strike a deal with him.”
Wesley whistled. “That much?”
Winking, she pushed herself to her feet and came to stand toe to toe with him. “Mr. Sorenson, are you trying to figure out how much I’m worth if you stick around?”
The tone was teasing, but he didn’t even smile. “You’re worth much more than money to me.”
Her heart started to thump wildly in her chest at his words. His lips skimmed her cheek and reached her throat. A deep moan rose from her, but she stepped away.
“How long until you’re done here?”
Mac turned to her computer and sighed. “A couple more hours. I still need to do some background checks and give that to Gabrielle. And you? Are you done with the security upgrade?”
“We’re on target. I’m going for some errands. Do you want to come with me?”
A smirk formed on her lips. “And Gabrielle agreed with me leaving the castle?”
“Well, not exactly, but I figured that if I would find a hat for your red hair and a big coat, you would blend in with the security.”
“Now who’s being a hot-head?”
Wesley rolled one of her stray locks around his finger before letting it go. “I think you’re rubbing off me, Lady MacKinnon.”
He said it to lighten the mood, but it struck her too hard to ignore it. She cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at her, straight in the eyes.
“Be careful. Extra careful, do you understand? You’re the tactical head between us.”
Mimicking her, he cupped her face in return. “And you worrying about me shows how wise you truly are.”
His mouth was hard on her, desperate, and before she could lean in, he pushed away. Grinning, he retreated to her door.
“I need to go, but tonight, against ghosts and assassins, I intend to use some of the tricks from the club on you. If I can convince you to see yourself the way I see you.”
“That will be an interesting attempt, Sorenson.”
“Don’t doub
t my capacities, MacKinnon.”
Mac smiled at the closed door and then returned to her desk. That crazy grin remained on her face for most of the time she had to sweat over the verification. It’s only when she finally sent her report and unglued herself from that chair that she realized she had stayed immobile far too long. As she stretched, she gauged that the sun was up for one more hour.