“Never trust a leader who sits back and lets his people take the risk for him,” I agree in disgust.
“Are you ready to go home, wife?” Dougal cups my cheek. “You were a force of nature tonight.”
“Aye, like a hurricane with a Category Five level of destruction,” Colin says behind us. After commanding the ground force, he looks even rougher than I feel, with multiple bandages, two are still leaking blood. “Your bride here took out five explosive drones that could have collapsed the house into rubble and mowed down I dinna ken how many hostiles. I’m mighty glad you’re on our side, Mrs. MacTavish.”
He holds out his hand and I shake it gently, mindful of his splinted fingers.
“It’s possible I might be finding you a wee bit terrifying,” Dougal whispers as he helps me up.
“My mother used to say that was the perfect balance between husband and wife,” I smile sweetly.
We spent the next day in bed, my husband very carefully making love to me, both of us trying to avoid each other’s wounds.
“I must go see Papa tomorrow,” I say, mostly into my pillow because my muscles are jelly. Dougal’s gently rubbing my back with some heavenly-smelling almond lotion.
“Do ya’ want me there with ya’?” His hands slide lower to my arse, kneading the sore muscles with his strong hands.
“It’s better if it’s just me this time,” I groan as his slick fingers move between my cheeks. “I… um… I want to talk to him about your Da’s call.”
“Then you’ll have a security team with you. Muñoz is still out there. Now, no more talk about our parent’s issues,” he says, one finger circling my pucker. “I want to talk about bein’ inside you, here.”
The tip of his finger slides in and I stiffen up. “Not ready? We’ll wait ‘till ya’ heal up.” He kisses the back of my neck. “But I will be inside your lovely little arse very soon, lass.”
“Don’t talk about my arse,” I whine, ignoring his chuckle as he kisses each cheek and rises from the bed to turn on the shower.
“Isla! Thank god.”
We’ve just pulled up to my father’s favorite cafe, I’m climbing out of Dougal’s armored SUV that he’s insisted I take and Tasgall steps in front of me.
“Sir, you need to step away,” he says coldly.
Gideon’s trying to get around him, eyes wide and worried. “I have been tryin’ to reach you. I have some information you need to hear.”
“Look… I’m sorry, I’m meeting my father. Maybe another time.”
“You have to hear me!” he groans, “It’s about your brother Ewan and the MacTavish’s. There’s more to his accident than you know.”
My heart gives a leaden thump in my chest. No. I don’t believe him. Dougal would never hide something like that from me.
His family hid the story of the Queen’s Eye for forty years,an ugly little voice pipes up.It canna’ be a surprise that there might be more.
Biting my lip, I check the little cafe. My father’s not here yet. “All right, just a few minutes. But you’re wrong about the MacTavish’s, that canna’ be right.”
“I have the proof in my car,” he insists. His Mercedes is parked two cars down from mine. “Pictures, accident records your father never saw. I’ve been searchin’ for this information ever since you were kidnapped by that man.”
My bodyguard is frowning at me and his stance is clear.
“Taskall, come with me,” I relent. “Stand by the open door and I’ll sit with him for a moment.” I know Gideon. I’ve known him for ten years. He’s a nice banker’s son with nothing more severe than a misguided hankering for me.
Gideon keeps a respectful space between us as we walk to his car, the look of relief clear in his anxious puppy dog eyes. “I’ve been so worried about ya’, lass. There’s so much to show you. Your brother’s death was no accident.” I slide into the back seat, Taskall positioning himself at the open door between me and the sidewalk.
“You’re wrong. Ya’ dinna think the Blackwoods would tear the report apart if there was anythin’ suspicious?”
“Here,” he tapped on his laptop, “let me show ya’.”
His driver is looking at me in the rearview mirror, and it hits me. I know him. He’s Gideon’s personal assistant, a silent shadow at his shoulder that I’ve seen at events before. He’s the man in the picture Dougal captured in front of the restaurant right before the C4 detonated.
Swinging my feet to leap out of the car, I gasp as Gideon catches me in a headlock as another man shoots Taskall, throwing him onto the sidewalk and slamming my door as the Mercedes takes off, tires squealing. I headbutt Gideon, feeling his nose break against my skull before a needle plunges into my neck and my body lolls bonelessly. Staring up at the roof of the car, my mouth moves soundlessly until everything goes dark.
