The MacGregor Brides (8 page)

“You needed security.” His voice wasn’t weak now, it boomed out like thunderclaps. “You and my other girls, living there in that city on your own. I protect what I love, and I wasn’t having your grandmother fretting herself sick over you. That’s that,” he said, and thumped his hand on the desk.

“If that was that, it would be a different matter.” She shifted to a new tack, walked around the desk
and fisted her hands on her hips. “Daniel Duncan MacGregor, you are under oath. Do you swear that everything you say is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?”

“I don’t lie, little girl. Now, if you’d—”

“I’m not finished with my examination of the accused.”

“Accused, is it? Accused!” He roared up so that he could tower over her. “Not a year past the bar, and you think you can interrogate me.”

“Yes, sit down. Please. And answer the questions. Did you or did you not hire Royce Cameron?”

“I said I did. His company has a good reputation.”

“And for this service, you paid him a fee.”

“I’d hardly expect a decent businessman to provide his services for free.”

“And did you or did you not encourage him to … socialize with your eldest granddaughter, one Laura MacGregor?”

“Well, this is nonsense. I never—”

“I’ll remind you you’re under oath.”

“I never said a bloody word about socializing. I might have mentioned that my eldest granddaughter was a beautiful young woman of single status.” He sat, sulking a bit. “It’s not a crime.”

“I say you threw me at him.”

“I certainly did not.” His smile spread, craftily. “I threw him at you. And if you didn’t like the look of him, you were free to throw him back, weren’t you?”

“That’s—”

“But you didn’t throw him back, did you, Laurie?”

She scowled, ground her teeth. “That has nothing to do with it.”

“Oh, it does and you know it, or else you wouldn’t be here blowing steam in my face. You’d have had a good laugh and pushed it aside.” He took her hand before she could snatch it aside, gave it a playful squeeze. “He’s smitten with you.”

“He is not smitten.”

“That he is. A man can see these things in another man. And I had him here for nearly two full days.”

She did snatch her hand away. “Bribing him.”

Two could play the interrogation game, Daniel thought. “Did he or did he not do satisfactory work at your house?”

“How would I know? And I don’t—”

“He did the work, and a fine job, so that your grandmother and I can rest our minds. Now, if I’ve a mind to want my own home made safer, more secure, why wouldn’t I call on a man who’s proven himself?”

How had the argument gotten off track? Laura wondered as she rubbed a hand over her temple. She’d had control of it at the beginning. And lost the grip somewhere along the line. “You know very well it’s all a plot.”

“Well, of course it’s a plot. All of life is.” Daniel grinned at her. “He’s a handsome lad, that Royce Cameron. Comes from good stock, has made something of himself. His grandfather was a fine man.”

That succeeded in distracting her. “You knew his grandfather?”

“Oh, in passing only. A policeman, with a strong sense of duty and a good head for Scotch. And his grandmother was a Fitzwilliams, a strong line. Her I knew a bit better.” His brows wiggled. “But that was before your grandmother swept me off my feet. So maybe when I was looking into some small, privately owned companies in the Boston area that a businessman might want to pay heed to, and I saw
the name of Royce Cameron—which was his grandfather’s name, and took me back a few years—I thought, would that be Millie Fitzwilliams’s grandson? And what’s he done with himself?”

Defeated, Laura tugged the open window closed before the two of them froze to death. “So you made it your business to find out.”

“To satisfy my curiosity, to see about the grandson of old friends. And if, when I discovered he was a strong man with a good mind and a decent head for business, I tossed a bit of work his way …”

“And your granddaughter along with it.”

“As I said, I tossed him your way. Nobody held a gun to your head to make you go out dancing with him.”

She set her teeth. “How do you know I went out dancing with him?”

Daniel smiled blandly. “I have my ways, little girl.”

“I want to choke you.”

“Kiss me instead.” He took her hand again. “I’ve missed you, Laurie.”

“Hah,” she said, and made his heart swell with pride. “You never miss anything, you old schemer.” But she kissed him just the same, and it only took the slightest tug on her hand to have her sitting on his lap. “Does he know you tossed him my way?”

“Come now, little girl, I’m better than that. Just what are you going to do about him?”

“I’m going to have a mad, torrid affair.”

“Laura!”

The shock and horror in his voice was almost payment enough for the embarrassment. “You reap what you sow, Grandpa. And since you’ve put such a fine specimen of man at my disposal, I’ll use him as I choose, until I’m done with him.”

He jerked her back, stared hard into her eyes. “Ah, you’re joking.”

“Maybe I am.” She smiled slowly. “And maybe I’m not. So you just think about that the next time you play laird with me, MacGregor.”

“Now then, Laurie—” He broke off when he heard his wife’s voice.

“Laura? Daniel, is that Laura’s car outside?”

“Up here, Grandma.”

“Ssh!” He gave Laura a quick shake to dislodge her. “Don’t call her up here. The woman’s got a nose like a hound. I only had a few puffs, damn it.”

“I’ll be right down, Grandma.” Laura angled her head. “You owe me, Grandpa. And if you don’t remember it, I might just let it slip that I saw a couple of Cubans taped to the back of your file drawer. Under
S
for
Sneak.”

Now he did pale. “You wouldn’t.”

She kept that smug smile on her face as she strolled to the door. “Don’t bet on it.”

But because she adored him, Laura hurried down the stairs before her grandmother could come up. They met on the landing with a long, tight hug.

“I wish you’d told us you were driving up. I never would have gone out.”

Laura eyed the small mountain of shopping bags. “Busy morning?”

“I’m determined to have my Christmas shopping done by Thanksgiving this year.” She slipped her arm around Laura’s waist and led her to the parlor. “Let’s sit down. I’ll ring for some tea.”

“I’d love some tea.” Laura sat, watched as Anna called for the housekeeper to brew a pot.

So lovely, Laura thought, as she always did. So sturdy. She thought of her grandmother as a trailblazer, a woman who had pursued her dream of practicing medicine when such careers for women were either laughed at or frowned upon.

She’d not only made the dream reality, she had triumphed, become one of the top thoracic surgeons on the East Coast, while raising a family, making a home.

“How do you do it, Grandma?”

“Do it?” Anna sat, sighing a little as she set her feet on a hassock. “Do what?”

“All. How do you do it all?”

“One step at a time. Oh, I swear, there was a time a morning of shopping wouldn’t wear me out.” She smiled. “I’m so glad you’re here. Now I can sit here and be lazy for a while.”

Instantly concerned, Laura sprang up. “Maybe you should lie down. You shouldn’t do so much.”

“Laura.” Her voice was serene, warm as sunlight. “My feet hurt, that’s all. Now sit. Tell me, did you drive all the way up here to shout at your grandfather?”

“I …” Laura huffed out a breath. “You know everything.”

“I know he’s been meddling, and expected you a week ago. Royce Cameron must have had quite some effect on you, for it to have taken you this long to figure it out.”

“He’s gorgeous.”

“I’ve seen that for myself.”

“I just told Grandpa I’m going to have a mad, torrid affair with him.”

“Oh.” Anna sighed and wiggled her toes. “I suppose he deserved that.”

“But I am.” Laura wondered how many women could say such a thing to their grandmothers. “I am going to have an affair with him.”

Anna said nothing, grateful that the rattle signaled the tea trolley being wheeled down the hall. She waited until the housekeeper left them alone, and poured two cups of tea herself. “I don’t have to tell you to be careful. You’re a bright, self-aware young woman.” Then she sighed. “I’ll tell you to be careful anyway.”

“I will. Please don’t worry. I’m … powerfully attracted to him. I’ve never been so attracted to anyone. And I like him. I didn’t think I would. In fact, I was sure I wouldn’t, but I like him a lot.”

“And obviously he feels the same way.”

“Yeah.” She sipped at her tea, then set it aside. “You know, men drive me crazy. I really had no intention of— I’ve got so much I want to do, and I just don’t have time for this kind of complication. Then Grandpa hires him. Hires him, for heaven’s sake. You laugh.”

“I’m sorry, darling. I shouldn’t.”

“It might be funny ten or twenty years from now,” Laura muttered. “Right now it’s just humiliating. And then Ian decides he needs to play chaperon and won’t give me five minutes’ peace. And you’d think Royce was his best pal ever since he punched him.”

“Ian punched Royce?”

“Other way, but it was a misunderstanding.”

“Naturally,” Anna said calmly, and drank her tea.

“And then Dad barges into my office this morning.
My
office, and bares his fangs just because Royce was kissing me.”

“Oh.” Anna’s smile warmed. “Poor Caine. His baby girl.”

“I’m not—”

“You’re his baby girl and always will be,” Anna said gently, interrupting her. “I suppose you argued.”

“We shouted at each other for a while. Mama smoothed it out, mostly. But when he said that Grandpa had … Well, the light dawned on how the whole business got rolling, so I had to come up and yell at Grandpa.”

“Naturally.” The MacGregors never failed to make their point at top volume, Anna mused, and brushed her hand back to tidy a wave of her sable-colored hair. “But you’ve made up now.”

“You can’t stay mad at Grandpa. He wheedles it out of you.”

“No one knows that better than I. And no one loves more than Daniel.”

“I know.” She bit her lip. She was about to say what she hadn’t allowed herself to say before. “Grandma … I think I could fall in love with Royce. If I let myself.”

“Laura.” Anna reached out, took the hand Laura held out to her. “The thing about falling is that you have absolutely no choice. It just happens. Here comes Daniel.” She gave Laura’s hand a squeeze when she heard Daniel’s heavy tread on the stairs. “I wouldn’t mention that last part to him just yet.”

“I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction,” Laura said primly, and picked up her tea as Daniel strode in.

“Well, well.” He smiled broadly. “Two beautiful women. And they’re all mine.”

Laura didn’t go home. She drove back to Boston, stopped and ate dinner alone to give herself time to think. As she saw it, she had two choices. She could be stubborn, attempt to teach her meddling grandfather a lesson and never see Royce Cameron again.

That idea didn’t make the hot-fudge sundae she had treated herself to go down pleasantly.

On the other hand, she could simply allow her relationship—if it was a relationship—with Royce to progress naturally, over time. She could consider that this blip, this interruption in the forward rush of things, was a sign to slow down, to consider carefully. To look before she leaped.

But MacGregors were leapers, not lookers.

And that was why, at one-fifteen in the morning, she was standing outside Royce’s apartment, banging her fist on the door.

The door across the hall opened a crack, just enough for her to see a pair of scowling, bloodshot eyes peering out at her. Laura narrowed her own and hissed. The door shut again with an abrupt snap.

She pounded again, heard a thump and a curse. Then saw a narrow light beam under the door. She angled her head and smiled blandly, certain Royce was staring at her through the Judas hole. An instant later, locks rattled open.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

“Why should there be anything wrong?” She sailed inside. “Shut the door, Royce, you have a nosy neighbor across the hall.”

He shut the door, leaned back against it and struggled to orient himself. She looked as fresh and pressed as she had at ten o’clock that morning in her tidy pin-striped suit and practical heels. He felt as rumpled as last night’s sheets in the ragged jeans he’d managed to find on the floor and tug on.

He rubbed his hands over his face, heard the crackle of beard against palm, then dragged his hands back and through his sleep-tangled hair. “Is it one in the morning, or did I oversleep?”

Laura turned her wrist, gave her watch a careful study. “It’s 1:17 a.m. To be exact.”

“Yeah, let’s be exact. What are you doing here?”

Enjoying herself she wandered the tiny living area. “I’ve never been up to your place.” She noted about a week’s worth of dust on scarred furniture. Newspapers piled on the floor by a sagging sofa. A small, really excellent watercolor of Boston Harbor on the wall, a high-end stereo system on a set of pine shelves and a Berber rug that was in desperate need of a good vacuuming.

“Now I see why.” She arched her brows. “You’re a pig.”

“I wasn’t expecting—” He caught himself. It was one o’-damn-clock in the morning, he remembered. “Yeah, so what?”

“Just an observation. Do you have any wine? I didn’t want to have a drink, since I was driving.”

“Yeah, I think there’s—” He pulled himself up short again. His brain was mush. It had been years since he had to wake alert at a moment’s notice. “You came by for a drink?”

“Is that a problem?” She kept the casual, pleasant smile on her face and, judging the kitchen to be to the left, wandered toward it. “Do you want some wine?”

“No.” He stared after her, raked his hands through his tousled hair again. “No. Help yourself.”

“I will.” He obviously stayed out of the kitchen as much as possible, she mused. It was neat enough to indicate disuse. But she did find a decent bottle of chardonnay in the fridge and, after a brief search through cupboards, an unchipped glass. “No frills for you, huh?”