Irresistible in a Kilt (Hot Scots Book 8)

by Anna Durand

  She kisses me. "Thank you, Alex. I'm glad you've gotten back to being your old self."

  "I can't go back to the way I was. This is the new me, the bastard you like to punch."

  "Only did that once. But you are becoming the old you again. Don't fight it, Alex, let it happen."

  Should I do that? Not sure I can, but for her, I'll try. The old me had been a grifter too. It's something I can never cleanse from my nature because it's tattooed on my soul.

  "Tell me more about the amazing MacTaggarts," I say. "I'm sure you have several thousand more cousins I haven't met."

  "Not thousands." She slaps her palms on my chest, leaning into them. "My cousin Arran is an estate agent, which means he knows a lot of people since he's sold a lot of real estate. Then there's my cousin Callum, who's a fireman."

  "Finally, someone who has a useful skill."

  She seems to ignore my comment, tapping her chin while gazing at the headboard. "But I think my cousin Jack could be the most helpful to you. I'd rather not say why yet. You won't want to do it at first, but I'm sure Jack and I together can convince you to give it a go."

  "Give what a go?"

  She looks at me, her smile secretive and a touch smug. "You'll find out."

  Cat slides off my body to hop off the bed.

  "Where are you going?" I ask, pushing up on my elbows. "And where's the bloody toilet?"

  "Down the hall," she says, tugging on the clothes she'd bought yesterday, the large T-shirt and skintight pseudo-trousers. "Follow me. We can have a shower first."

  "Together?"

  "Maybe."

  "Only maybe?" I leap off the bed, rush to Cat, and sweep her up in my arms. "No, love. 'Definitely' is the correct answer."

  She laughs while I carry her off to the bathroom.

  Logan opens his bedroom door just as we pass by it. He smirks and covers his eyes with his hands. "Donnae need to see your erse first thing in the morning, Alex. Donnae ever need to see it, actually."

  I carry Catriona into the bathroom and kick the door shut.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Catriona

  I love taking a shower with Alex, but we have problems to deal with that won't wait. Alex thought it was a joke, but I was serious about enlisting members of my family to help us. Jack in particular has a special set of skills that Alex needs badly, though he'll never agree to letting Jack help him unless I maneuver him into it. Why shouldn't I? He maneuvered me into moving to America and living in his house. My conniving is for a good cause, and it's done with love. Alex needs a sort of help he would never admit to needing.

  Which means it's up to me to secure that assistance for him.

  According to Jamie and the American Wives Club, wives often need to trick their husbands into accepting a hand—from anyone, not just from strangers. Alex is even more stubborn than Rory and Lachlan combined. But if Erica and Emery could straighten them out, I can do the same with Alex.

  Before I talk to Jack, I need to speak to someone else.

  So I corner Rory in his office. Well, it used to be his office when he lived here.

  He's sitting behind the desk with his head resting on his raised hand, his reading glasses perched on his nose. Though he's staring down at the desktop, I don't see any papers there. He's staring at the shiny wood.

  This isn't his office anymore, but I know he's come here to think. A lot has happened recently, so I don't blame him for needing time alone.

  "Are you all right?" I ask, sitting down on one of the chairs in front of the desk.

  Rory startles like he hadn't noticed me walking into the room. "I'm fine, Cat."

  "Good. I need your help." I sit up straighter, clearing my throat. "With Alex."

  "Logan is talking to his contacts to find out more about Reginald Hewitt's escape and the status of the arson investigation. In the meantime, there isn't much we can do."

  "That's rubbish. We can do plenty for Alex."

  "Such as?" He winces as soon as he's asked the question, probably because he realizes he's just offered to help Alex.

  Well, he sort of offered.

  Have I maneuvered him into doing that? I hadn't meant to, but I like that I'd been able to do it.

  "Alex needs our support," I tell Rory. "While we wait for answers, we should do something to make him feel better, to take his mind off things. I also think Jack could be helpful."

  "Our cousin Jack?"

  "That's right."

  Rory sinks back in his leather chair. "I may not know Alex well, but I'm fair certain he will never agree to Jack's methods."

  "You mean because you would never do it." I shake my head. "Why are all the men in the MacTaggart clan so bloody stubborn? It took a free-spirited, determined woman like Emery to set you straight. Otherwise, you'd still be the Ogre of Loch Fairbairn, wouldn't you?"

  He studies me for a moment, his lips working and his flinty gaze narrowed on me.

  "Come off it, Rory," I say. "You know that look doesn't scare me. I'm even more stubborn than you are, so you might as well agree to my plan."

  "What plan? All you've said is we need to make Alex feel better." He squirms in his chair, his expression pinched. "Ahmno hugging Alex, if that's your plan."

  I can't help laughing. "That won't be necessary. I was thinking we could use your favorite tactic for getting bloody-minded men to see the light. It worked with Gavin, Evan, and Logan." I smile sweetly at my brother. "It certainly worked for you, Rory."

  He squints at me, but this time I know he's thinking, not trying to intimidate me. Honestly, he knows he can't intimidate me, so he's wasting energy every time he tries it. At last, he rolls his chair closer to the desk and folds his arms on it.

  "All right," he says. "I'll arrange it."

  "Thank you, Rory." I spring out of my chair and bend over his desk to kiss his cheek. "You're my favorite brother."

  "Yes, I'm sure I am. Until you ask Lachlan to do something for you and have to wheedle him into agreeing." Rory gives me a halfhearted scowl. "But you get to ring Jack and talk him into his part of your plot."

  "Agreed."

  "I doubt Alex will appreciate what you're doing for him."

  "Not at first, but eventually he'll see it for what it is. An act of love."

  Rory purses his lips. "You do love him, don't you?"

  "Isn't that what I've said several times? Yes, I love Alex. Stop being grumpy about it, Rory, and try being happy for me."

  "That might take considerable time."

  "Fine, but at least stop glowering at him." I rest my erse on the desk. "May I borrow your office for a while?"

  "Yes."

  "And may Alex borrow it too? He's used to hiding in his study, but he doesn't have a house anymore, much less a study."

  Rory purses his lips again, but after a few seconds his mouth relaxes. "All right. You can both use my office today."

  "And make sure everyone stays away from the sitting room this morning."

  "I'll do that too. Any other orders?"

  "No, nothing else. Thank you." I kiss the top of his head. "You really are a sweetie-pie, just like your wife says."

  He grunts, then gets up and walks out of the office.

  I take the big leather chair behind his desk and pick up the phone to ring Jack. When he answers, I say, "It's Catriona. I have a problem that requires your professional expertise."

  "You've never wanted my kind of help before, but I'm happy to—"

  "No, Jack, it's not for me. My boyfriend needs your help."

  "Boyfriend?" Jack is quiet for a moment before he says, "Is this the British Bastard we're talking about? I heard you've been living with him in America."

  "No, I'm not talking about any British Bastard. This is for Alex Thorne, the man I love."

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. That's what everyone's calling him. But I did hear about the fire that destroyed his home. I imagine he does need a neutral
party to talk to." He hums notes that aren't really a tune, the way he often does when he's thinking. "I'll clear my calendar and come right over."

  "Thank you, Jack. You're my favorite cousin."

  He chuckles. "That's sweet, but you don't need to butter me up. I'm happy to help."

  "There's one more thing." I chew on my fingernail but catch myself doing it and stop. "Alex doesn't know you're coming, and he has no idea what you do for a living."

  "A sneak attack? Sounds like fun. I've been left out of the adventures so far, though I was there when you and Alex met again for the first time in…how long?"

  "Twelve years."

  "That's a long time. No wonder Alex needs help adjusting."

  I tell Jack where to meet me and Alex, and we say goodbye. When I join everyone in the dining room for breakfast, Alex is already there, sitting next to Emery. Rory has taken the seat at the head of the table. An empty chair waits for me beside Alex.

  Mrs. Brody, the housekeeper at Dùndubhan, has made a large breakfast for us full of all the Scots foods we love. I accidentally call her Mrs. Darroch, which was her name before she married the gardener, Tavish Brody. Sometimes I forget that. She doesn't mind, though. No one talks much during the meal, but afterward, I convince Alex to come with me to the sitting room.

  Jack is waiting for us. He stands by the fireplace with his hand on the mantle, gazing out the tall windows at the mist-shrouded morning.

  When we enter the room, Jack steps away from the fireplace and smiles at us. "Good morning, Cat. And you must be Alex Thorne.

  Alex casts me an annoyed glance. "What have you done now?"

  "I found someone who can help you." I gesture toward Jack. "And here he is. This is my cousin, Jack MacTaggart. And Jack, this is Alex Thorne, my boyfriend."

  Alex's brows lift, and his gaze swerves to me.

  Probably because I called him my boyfriend. What would he rather I call him? He doesn't like the British Bastard.

  Jack approaches Alex and offers his hand. "Glad to meet you."

  Alex eyes Jack's hand with suspicion but then clasps it. "Glad to meet you too. If you're here to batter sense into me, there's no need. Her brothers will take care of that."

  "No, I'm not here for that," Jack says with a hint of laughter in his voice. "I'm here to shrink your head."

  "What?"

  "Didn't Cat tell you?" Jack crosses his arms over his chest. "I'm a psychologist."

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Alex

  "Bloody hell, Cat," I say while her cousin stands there looking rather pleased with himself. Shouldn't a psychologist evince empathy and sensitivity? Jack MacTaggart seems like he can't wait to crack open my skull and dig around inside my brain.

  "Donnae say 'bloody hell,' Alex," Cat tells me, "before you give it a go. Jack is very good at his job, and he has no agenda."

  "I'm meant to spill my ruddy guts to a MacTaggart? Your entire family hates me."

  "Not Logan or Evan. Not even Rory…anymore."

  "Anymore?" I laugh, but there's no humor in it. I feel like a condemned man who just got delivered to the executioner. Is that a guillotine I see outside the window? "Even if your brother doesn't want to murder me anymore, I'm sure that's a temporary situation."

  Jack tips his head to the side, analyzing me with his gaze. "Interesting. Why do you assume Rory won't tolerate you for long?"

  Cat backs up toward the door. "I'll let you and Jack talk in private."

  I squint at her. "You're not leaving me alone with your psychotic cousin."

  "The term is psychologist," Jack says, "not psychotic."

  Cat, who's now halfway out the door, blows me a kiss. Then she hurries out and shuts the door.

  Oh, that woman is underhanded. Tricking me into enduring a therapy session with her cousin? She'd better have barred the door from the outside, otherwise I will leave the second Jack asks me how I feel about whatever thing from my past he thinks I need to examine with a microscope.

  "Cat warned me you'd be extremely resistant," Jack says, "maybe even hostile, to the idea of therapy. Don't worry, I've dealt with much more stubborn men than you."

  "I doubt that."

  He gestures for me to sit in one of two high-backed chairs positioned by the windows. "Have a seat, Alex. Get comfortable."

  Yes, I'll feel very relaxed and completely comfortable while being coerced into sharing my feelings with a total stranger. Well, lying is my forte. I don't have to tell this man the truth about anything. If I weave a fantastic web of lies around Jack, it will serve Cat right for pushing me into this.

  Therapy is rubbish.

  Jack settles onto a chair, bracing his ankle on the other knee.

  I approach the second chair, turn it slightly toward the windows, then sit down and prop my feet on the windowsill, ankles crossed. "Do you have a PhD?"

  "This therapy session is about you, not me."

  "Ah, that means no. You're a con man pretending to be a psychologist."

  "That won't work, Alex. I can sit here for hours listening to you insult me and dodge answering my questions."

  "Can you? Let's test that theory." I link my hands behind my head and slouch a little in my chair, like I'm as comfortable as any human can be. It's rubbish, but rubbish and bollocks and bullshit are my best tools. "If you don't have a PhD, you really shouldn't advertise yourself as a psychologist. What sort of therapy do you specialize in, anyway? Brainwashing the men who date the sisters of the Three Macs?"

  "I have a PhD, so you can rest easy knowing I am qualified to listen to every crumb of pig's wallow you want to throw at me." He tips his head to the side again, and I'm beginning to hate that little action. "I specialize in couples therapy."

  "Couples?" I laugh like he's told me the barmiest thing ever. Which he has. "Then why am I in this room alone with you? I'm sure you're a decent bloke, but I'm not interested in dating you."

  "But you are involved with Catriona. How do you feel about that?"

  "Let's revisit your qualifications to advise me on my relationship with Catriona. Do you have a wife or girlfriend?"

  Jack watches me for a moment before he answers. "I'm divorced. No girlfriend at the moment."

  "Why on earth should I listen to a man who couldn't make his own marriage work?"

  "Sometimes it's easier to see other people's relationships clearly. You have more distance from it." He steeples his fingers, tapping the tips of them. "So tell me, how do you feel about reconciling with Cat? How's the sex?"

  I fly out of my chair. "This session is over."

  "Calm down, Alex. Let's talk about why the idea of discussing your relationship with Cat makes you want to run and hide."

  "My feelings are none of your business."

  He watches me with a bland expression while I stand there fuming, my fists clenched.

  Finally, Jack asks, "You do love Cat, don't you?"

  I look at the door, wanting to leave, but my feet won't move.

  "You can go," Jack says. "But you know Cat will be disappointed if you don't at least try talking to me. Think of it as a conversation, not therapy."

  "Bugger it all," I mutter, then I drop onto the chair. "Of course I love Cat."

  "Do you want to marry her?"

  "How is that any of your concern?"

  Jack shrugs. "It's not, but I'm wondering if the rebirth of your relationship with Cat is making you doubt everything. What are you most afraid of?"

  I turn my chair fully toward the windows, and the rug under it gets crumpled up. I half rise from the chair to lift one of its legs and fix the rug.

  "Why can't you face me while we're talking?" Jack asks. "What are you afraid of?"

  "You already asked that question."

  "Answer it, then."

  I scowl, glancing at him. "You're a bloody annoying wanker, do you know that? Repeating questions over and over won't make me more inclined to answer."

 
"Maybe not, but I'm fair certain it'll be fun for me, watching you squirm. Have you ever seen someone plunge an electrified rod into the ground to make the worms come out? You remind me of those wriggling little beasties."

  "Oh, thank you so much," I say with enough sarcasm to prove to him what a bastard I am. That ought to convince him how much I don't want to bare my soul to him. What does he expect? The arse just compared me to wriggling earthworms. "If you're planning to use electric shock therapy on me, may I at least have a glass of Scotch first?"

  "You're sidestepping again. Try answering one question, honestly, with no verbal tap dancing."

  "Now I'm a tap-dancing earthworm?"

  "One question," Jack says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. "Answer one question for me."

  Grumbling, I gaze out the window at the grey sky. "Go on. Ask."

  "Don't think about your answer, just say it. What are you most afraid of?"

  "Losing Cat again."

  Why am I playing this game? It's ridiculous, and I hadn't meant to say that. Jack MacTaggart is driving me insane with his irritating calmness and his caring voice that makes me want to bludgeon him with my shoe.

  "Why would you lose her?" Jack asks. "She loves you, and you've told her everything she wanted to know. Haven't you?"

  "Yes, but—" I shake my head. "It doesn't matter."

  "People say that about things that matter the most." He pauses, but I refuse to glance at him and find out why. "I was there, you know. On the day you and Cat were reunited here at Dùndubhan. As I recall, she hit you."

  "Catriona punched me in the gut."

  He chuckles. "Aye, she's a feisty one. Did you deserve it?"

  "What if I did?"

  "I saw the argument you two had in the garden that day."

  "How? The only ones there besides me and Cat were Logan and Serena."

  Jack taps his steepled fingers like he had a few minutes ago. "I'd gone into the garden to relieve myself behind a large bush. When you two started arguing, I thought it was best to wait it out and not disturb you."

  "You're an eavesdropper? So much for client confidentiality."

  "Neither of you was my client then, but I've never told anyone what I saw and heard."