Callum (6 page)

Her self-depreciating humor almost did him in, but he steeled his conviction. “And you don’t want notoriety? I find that hard to believe.”

She laughed. “No. I’ll be brutally honest with you. I have spent most of my life under a microscope. Thanks to my IQ, I have been the subject of many studies throughout my life. Many weren’t pleasant experiences. Between that and starting college in the middle of puberty, I’ve had my share of notoriety.”

There was something there beneath the pleasant speech, something like pain. Nothing in her expression showed what she was feeling as she continued smiling at him, but he sensed it. Something in her past was hurting her, and the need to be the one to soothe the ache surprised and irritated him.

“Why?”

She cocked her head to the side. The interest was back and directed at him. “Why don’t I want notoriety? I thought I explained that.”

He shook his head. “Why do you want to do it then? Why do you research Celtic legends?”

She relaxed back into the chair, her gaze turning contemplative. “From the moment I was born, my parents had my life planned. Everything has been their choice.” She drew in a deep breath and returned her attention to him. “Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Lennon. I’ve had a charmed life. There are things I have seen and done that people only dream about. I owe my parents a debt of gratitude for it. But Celtic mythology and legends are my own little addiction. Something I love to do. I’m lucky enough to be able to indulge in it when I want, again, thanks to my parents.”

He nodded as he took a sip of wine. When he said nothing, she continued.

“So, when you ask me about why, I can only tell you because it is the one non-scheduled activity I can indulge in. I share it with no one. Not my parents, not even my husband when he was alive. It is the one extravagance I’ve allowed myself. When an opportunity like this arises, I jump on it if possible. With my schedule for the next year and a half, my little addiction is going to be hard to squeeze in, so that’s why I came all this way now.”

Callum didn’t want to believe her, but he did. Responsibility had been riding his back for more years than he could remember, so he understood her need. People depending on you could weigh you down, even if you loved them. It could get damned hard to remember that you were an individual, and he sensed she’d struggled with that for most of her life.

Apparently worried she hadn’t swayed him, she said, “Truthfully, with your money and resources, you could make sure anything I tell the press doesn’t make the light of day. And I’m sure you know with one word from you, my reputation would be destroyed. It is the one thing I do not play lightly with.”

After that, she waited. Again, he didn’t want to be swayed by her arguments, but they made sense. She had no idea what she was talking about because she didn’t know exactly what she was getting into, but he could destroy her, her reputation, and her parents on a whim if he wished it. Granted, if the information made the rags they would be scrutinized, perhaps even considered freaks, if anyone believed the truth. He had fought most of his life to keep their secret safe. He would destroy anyone who threatened their safe haven. But clearly she understood what such rash actions could cost her.

He knew that all the other cousins had conceded to let her look at it without a contract. Callum wasn’t comfortable enough with it.

“A confidentiality agreement then?”

She nodded. “After I see the diary.”

Bloody hell, the woman wouldn’t give over, not even a centimeter.

“And you give me your word you aren’t working for a paper?”

She laughed then, a real one that sent lust curling in his belly, rolling through his veins. “No. In fact, there is one particular reporter for
The Mirror
who has a non-harassment order against me. The press and I are not the best of friends.”

“You physically threatened a reporter?”

“No. I punched him.” She waited a beat. “Then I threatened to castrate him if I ever saw him again.”

He couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. It was hard to believe this woman would be able to hurt anyone, especially a grown man. Her head barely reached his shoulders. “Was there a reason?”

“My late husband was actually a very distant relation of Prince Phillip. When Simon was sick, there were a few people who thought to make a story of it and his…our personal life. I thought otherwise. I protect what is mine.”

He was momentarily distracted by the mention of her late husband. It nettled that he wanted to know more about the man, what their marriage had been like. Why would he give a damn about that?

He mentally steered himself away from that subject and back to their discussion. Her expression and voice held a conviction he admired. He understood what it took to hold onto that conviction through troubled times. The strength of her character showed by her actions. He knew at that moment he was going to cave to her wishes. There really was no other choice. They had no one else they could turn to, but he knew there would have to be some kind of agreement.

“If I agree to this—without requiring a contract—there are some rules I will not bend on.”

She nodded and waited. Smart lass—too smart.

“Only you will review the book and only in my office. It is a rare find, and I will not have it misplaced.” She opened her mouth to argue, probably trying to defend herself, but he didn’t have the time or patience. “First, you need to understand that I don’t often work without written agreement other than for payment. Also, I am not only talking of you, but of others. The book is worth a lot of money—one reason we haven’t told the staff about it. Anyone with a brain might think to take it.”

When she smiled at him, a full smile with dimples and teeth, he knew she would agree. She thought she’d won. Which, he conceded, she had. But he would do everything to make sure it was on his terms.

“You will not have possession of the book unless I am present. You are only allowed a minimal amount of notes when you leave, and I will review all of those.”

Phoebe nodded. “Agreed. Can I see it?”

Her eagerness made him uneasy. Why would she agree so quickly and without haggling?

“Don’t you think it is a little late to start?” He glanced at his watch. “I assumed you would like a night’s rest before you start.”

She sighed again, the sound as arousing as it was irritating. “Okay, I’ll wait.”

He could tell she wasn’t happy. Callum didn’t care. He needed a break from her presence before he made a bigger ass out of himself.

“Breakfast is usually served at six sharp. I’ll meet you here.” He glanced at her plate and noticed she had finished her meal, the napkin lying over the china. He buzzed for Belvidore, who arrived immediately. Knowing his distrust of anyone not in the Lennon family, the butler was probably waiting by the door.

“Please show Dr. Chilton to her room.”

Amazingly, she didn’t argue with him. She stood, her smile telling him she was satisfied. “Thank you. Mr. Lennon.”

After the door shut behind them, Callum leaned back in his chair and growled. What the hell was wrong with him? Not only did he give in on an issue, which he never allowed, he now had condemned himself to her presence. All day, every day, until she left.

Damn
. He’d be barmy by the time she finished.

Not that he had to be physically in the office, and there were times he would have to be gone. Perhaps Angus could watch over her. As quickly as he thought of it, Callum dismissed that notion unless completely necessary. He couldn’t allow any of the others to spend too much time with her. She might start digging into their past too much, and Angus tended to have a loose tongue, especially around women. Anice would be a poor choice because she would probably spill all their secrets over chocolate.

Logan and Fletcher were both completely unacceptable. Known seducers, caging them in a room with a woman as pretty as Phoebe… He shook his head. No. That he could not allow. Their existence, such as it was, depended on the façade he’d created several years ago. One crack and they would be doomed to live in this hell for eternity.

Which meant he was stuck working with a woman he wanted beneath him, above him—hell, he would take her every way possible, and he was certain it wouldn’t be enough. He scrubbed his hand over his face and prayed for patience. He was going to need it.

Phoebe breezed into the dining room behind Belvidore and smiled at Callum. He noted her presence with a nod and a frown. Did the man ever smile?

Callum stood, always the proper Scot. “Good morning, Dr. Chilton. I’d like you to meet my cousin, Logan Lennon.”

It was then she noticed the man standing next to Callum. Amazing, she hadn’t even known another person was in the room. She had to be going mental to miss this one. Almost as tall as his older cousin—although all four men appeared to be about the same age—the last male cousin was gorgeous, just like the other three. His hair was a darker blond than Angus’s, curling over his ears and the collar of his shirt telling her he was late for a trim.

She smiled at him, and he responded in kind. Oh, what a delicious smile. While there was a strong resemblance amongst all the Lennon men, there was definitely something different about each of them. This one could hold his own in the looks department, but there was something almost…poetic about him. Logan’s green eyes had a spot of blue, adding a dreamy quality to them. He completed the look with a goatee.

“Good morning, Dr. Chilton,” Logan said.

“Good morning, but please call me Phoebe.”

He nodded and said nothing else as she took her seat—the same one as the night before. Once she was settled, both cousins followed suit.

“What would
madam
like this morning?” Belivore asked, disdain dripping from every word. Usually she would get mad, but his attitude made her want to laugh.

“Just a spot of tea with lemon and toast with butter, please.”

He brought her the tea then left to retrieve her toast. Callum pushed the plate of lemons toward her.

“Thank you.”

He grunted in response and picked up the paper he’d been reading when she entered.

“I was surprised to see you so early,” Logan said as he drank his tea. “I thought you might sleep in a bit after all your traveling yesterday.”

Even in his movements there was something, well, so…artistic about him. Which made sense because she had read he oversaw the art department and created all the ads for Lennon Enterprises. He dressed casually compared to his cousin—who was wearing his normal “Lord of the Dead” black business suit. Logan wore a loose fitting white shirt, no tie, and casual chinos.

“Mr. Lennon said I should be here at six in the morning.”

Logan glanced at his cousin, humor lighting his eyes. “Really?”

“No problem. I believe in a strict schedule. Otherwise, chaos reigns.”

“Chaos can be interesting.”

She laughed. “Spoken like a true artist.”

Callum shook his newspaper, but said nothing. He didn’t even look in their direction. She figured he was annoyed with the conversation, but if he didn’t like it, he shouldn’t have ordered her to breakfast. She almost always played by the rules—especially when it benefitted her. And irritating Callum Lennon was a definite benefit.

He was frowning—again. Not that she expected anything else. Although, it did bring out the minx in her. She wanted to muss the top of his head, slipping her fingers through his hair, but she knew better. If she ever indulged in touching him, she would embarrass herself and do more than just touch. She’d have to know how he tasted.

Oh, lord. What the hell was she thinking? She needed to keep her mind on that diary and away from her adversary. Lusting after him would make it harder to go after the grant. It had to be because of the dreams. She’d not slept well. Dreams of whipped cream and Callum Lennon had disturbed her rest. And even as she told herself that Callum Lennon was off-limits, her gaze drifted back to him. Something about that stoic Scot expression made her want to see him smile. She was positive a true smile from him would turn her into jelly.

With a sigh, she took a sip of her tea and turned her attention back to Logan. He was frowning also, not in irritation, but contemplation. His gaze shifted to Callum, then back to her. Oh, bother. She needed to change the subject and fast.

A half hour later, she settled in front of a spare wooden desk that Callum had placed in his office. The male assistant kept asking her if she needed anything to the point of being a nuisance, but she couldn’t fault him. Apparently, Callum could.

“That will be enough, Gregory.”

The young man blushed to his hairline, bowed his head in her direction, and left them. She swiveled in her chair and said, “You needn’t be so harsh with him.”

“He would have hovered all morning if I hadn’t put an end to it.” His disgust made her chuckle. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

“In dealing with young men, you need to show a little more patience.”

He shot her a look out of the corner of his eye as he walked across the room. “You have a lot of experience with young men?”