A Highlander for Christmas (21 page)

“Jared?” A woman’s voice poured silkily over the line. “I tried your main number and only got your machine. Why didn’t you call?”

Maggie stared at the receiver.

“Jared, are you there?” Petulance warred with the warmth in the unknown voice. “No, don’t answer. Let me apologize first. I was—well, completely off the other night. You have your job and I understood how it would be. But I’m lonely, so come over, won’t you? It’s so lovely and warm here in bed.” Sheets rustled softly. “And there’s nothing but me. I want you in the most appalling way, Jared.”

Maggie swallowed. What should she say?

“Jared, why don’t you answer me?”

Maggie took a deep breath. “This is Mr. MacNeill’s answering service. I’m afraid he is unavailable right now, but I will see that he gets your message. What name shall I give Mr. MacNeill, please?”

“To hell with my name.” The woman muttered something else, hot and unrepeatable, then slammed down the phone.

No, it wasn’t the sort of message you could leave with a third party.

Maggie wandered back to bed, only to toss restlessly. She fought a jab of jealousy at the thought of Jared wrapped in warm sheets with another woman. Some instinct told her he would be a masterful lover, as careful in pleasure as he was with the other details in his life. He would be a man who took time with a woman, overwhelming her with his intensity and his control.

The thought left her cheeks flaming.

Not with her, he wouldn’t. She didn’t know the man well enough to be jealous, and she wasn’t ever going to.

But her hand rose to her mouth, retracing a faint thread of memory.

Then with a hiss of anger, she mounded her pillows over her head and closed her eyes.

~ ~ ~

Maggie blinked, waking to bright sunlight.

Outside, the river was a road of beaten silver banked by dark trees. She was still absorbing the beauty when she heard the sound of feet and a knock at the door.

“Awake yet?” Jared was wearing the same soft jeans, but now a dark sweater hugged his chest.

“Possibly. It depends on that lovely smell.”

“Coffee. Eggs. Fresh scones.”

“Don’t tell me you
cook
.”

His brow arched. “Purely in self-defense. Chasing people through dark alleys always leaves me with an appetite. Now up with you or everything will be ruined.”

Maggie fought back a wary smile as she tugged on a robe that was miles too big and followed him into the kitchen. Jared set a full plate before her, then sat back to watch.

She paused with a fork halfway to her mouth, oddly disturbed by his scrutiny. It was almost as if he was trying to slip past skin and bone to find the heart of her. “You aren’t eating?”

“I’ve already eaten:” His eyes narrowed. “Did you sleep well?”

“
Umm
.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“It’s an
umm
.”

He studied her over the rim of his teacup. “Have any new memories surfaced?”

The question left a weight at her chest. For a while she had managed to forget the abbey and its shadows, along with her concern for her father. “None.”

“They’ll come.”

“I almost hope they don’t.” Maggie took a long breath. “What about the man in the alley?”

“I’ve notified the police. Without a license plate or a clear description, I’m afraid there’s not much they can do.” He reached out and brushed a crumb gently from her cheek. “Let me worry about it. There’s more when you finish that.”

His hand moved and Maggie felt the feather-light touch like a jolt of direct current. For a moment the room seemed to shift, and the air seemed too heavy.

She was relieved when he pulled away. She took a bite of the omelet and sighed in pure satisfaction. “I need to leave soon. I have two shops to visit on Brompton Road this morning.”

“Fine. I’ll pick you up afterward.”

“You’ve been very nice, but that’s not necessary.”

“Five o’clock. The
Ritz.
I’m taking you to dinner,” he said firmly.

Maggie frowned. He was crowding her again, overwhelming her. “I’ve got other plans.” She pushed away her plate.

“Cancel them.”

“No.” She didn’t stop to consider, sweeping to her feet. The man was too sharp, too cool. Any more contact would throw her off balance entirely. “I said I can’t.”

“Then afterwards. The
Ritz
lobby at seven.”

She sighed. “No.”

“One way or another, I’m going to see you home safely tonight.”

Maggie glared, taking in the firm set of his jaw. “Are you always this obstinate?”

“No.” A smile lurked in his eyes. “Sometimes I’m worse.”

“Fine. But make it eight instead.”

He took her hand as she rose. “Be careful today.”

“I always am.”

His fingers closed, tracing slow circles over her wrist, and Maggie felt electricity dive straight down her spine. She didn’t like this shivery feeling that came with every movement of his hands. Even worse was the way his eyes narrowed, as if he could see exactly the effect he was having on her.

“It might be worth it, you know.”

“What?”

“Letting go, just once. Putting down all that heavy guard of yours while you stop looking for shadows. Maybe you could even try trusting someone for a change. People do that on occasion.”

He wasn’t cocky now, Maggie saw. There was a fine edge of tension to each word, and banked desire shimmered in his eyes. His fingers moved slowly over her palm, and she felt her hand open unconsciously at his touch.

When had a simple meal become such a dangerous thing?

Maggie closed her eyes and pulled free. “When you let go, you get burned, MacNeill. And I have enough adventure in my life.”

“Maybe not,” he said. “Maybe neither of us does. It might be one hell of a time to find out.” He watched her rise, the force of his gaze almost painful.

Maggie made her decision as she went off to dress. She owed Jared MacNeill for her rescue, but she wanted no more involvement. Her life was messy enough, and she had no room for personal entanglements.

So she had
no
intention of being anywhere near the
Ritz
lobby that night, not at seven or eight or any other hour.

At ten minutes to eight Jared pulled his Triumph into an empty spot near the
Ritz. When he
strode inside. Maggie was nowhere in sight. He had suspected she might not show, of course, and had taken precautions.

After a quick conversation with the maître d’, he flipped on his phone.

“Jared, is that you?” his friend Izzy answered promptly.

“Afraid so. Where is she?”

“Staring at the jewelry window at Harrod’s, looking like someone with all the time in the world.”

Jared muttered something low and graphic in Gaelic.

He’d been right. She’d had no intention of meeting him tonight. “Any sign that she’s being followed, Izzy?”

“None that I’ve picked up, but I’ve been mostly in the car. If you want, I’ll circle the block and then go in on foot to check.”

“Don’t bother. Just keep on her. I’ll be by as soon as I can cut through traffic.”

Less than ten minutes later, Jared moved up silently beside Maggie. She was peering through a window at a necklace of matched black pearls set in braided platinum. “Making your Christmas list early?”

She spun around, one hand to her chest. Her gaze locked on his formal white shirt and black evening jacket. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be—”

“At the
Ritz?”
he finished calmly. “So I was, until you failed to arrive.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“I had you watched.”

“You did
what
?” Her face flushed bright pink.

Jared took her arm and pulled her down the street, blandly ignoring the interested looks from a pair of passing men.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking you to dinner. Unless my information is wrong, you haven’t eaten since breakfast. I expect you must be ravenous after visiting four jewelry shops, two museums, and a dozen bookstores.”

“You had no right to have me watched…” Her voice broke off with a sputter.

“There’s no need to snap at me. You’ve got to eat, and I’m prepared to take you. How about Hunanese?”

“I wouldn’t eat with you for all the tea in China.” She wrenched away. “What makes you think you can follow people around, poke into their lives and then swoop down to force them to your bidding?”

“It’s dinner, Maggie, not a lifestyle change.”

Or was it? Jared thought. Did trust come so hard with her that a simple dinner invitation became a major assault?

“I can’t imagine what she sees in you.”

Jared frowned. “Who?”

“Your woman friend with the purring voice. She phoned last night while you were asleep. It seems that she was lonely. She wanted your company—in bed.”

Jessica had phoned again? Jared tried to hide his irritation. She had been after him for three months, since they’d been introduced at a party given by one of Nicholas’s friends. She still refused to accept that Jared wasn’t interested.

“She’s not my woman friend.”

“No?” She shrugged, but Jared saw a glint of irritation in her eyes.
“
I suppose complete strangers call you in the middle of the night and offer you their bodies.”

“One can wish.”

Maggie looked away, frowning. “I don’t need a watchdog. I just want to be left alone.”

“That won’t be possible.”

“What happened last night was a random crime. It had nothing to do with me or my father.”

He waited, saying nothing.

“You still don’t believe that, do you?”

“In my experience, coincidence doesn’t exist,” he said grimly.

“Was following me Nicholas Draycott’s idea or yours?”

“Both.”

“In that case, you
both
can—”

She was about to say more when a garbage can clattered down the sidewalk, barely missing her feet. A black shape shot through the darkness, yelping wildly.

Maggie froze. “If that was an overfed English rat, I don’t want to know.”

“Not many rats that I know yelp. It was a dog, I think.” Jared studied the gaunt shape cowering in the shadows.

The dog stiffened, growling softly as another can rattled over the drive. Behind the clanging metal a trio of young boys swaggered into view.

“’Ere, where’d the brute get off to?” one demanded, scowling at Jared.

“Haven’t seen it.”

“No? Then what d’ ye call that mangy bag of skin pressed against yer feet?” The tallest boy, probably all of sixteen, made a poking stab with a stick pulled from beneath one arm.” ’E’s my bleedin’ dog. Going ’ome with me, so’e is.”

Jared caught the stick and sent it flying. “The dog stays here,” he snapped. “He’s frightened and he’s shivering and I expect he’s tired of your bullying.”

“’Ere now. Property’s property, ain’t it?”

Behind Jared the puppy flattened his ears and slunk backward, trembling.

“This ‘property’ appears to have different ideas.” Gently, Jared picked up the trembling animal and his eyes turned very hard. “Now push off before I take a stick to you, the way you’ve done to this little fellow.”

The boys looked at the dog, then looked at Jared’s broad shoulders, then set off toward the street.

Silence fell. The dog yipped
happily,
shoving a wet nose against Jared’s face.

He winced. “Probably has fleas and worse.”

The thin body lurched enthusiastically.

“What’s your name, then?”

A quick bark. More wild wriggling.

“I guess that leaves the name up to me. What a mess you are.” Jared chuckled, scratching the small, alert head. “You look like a cross between a fox and a mongoose. I shudder to think what your parents were.”