That’s why Alec kidnapped my wife. He knew her father wouldn’t hesitate to surrender himself to save her. Caroline, Alec’s mother is standing in the corner by the window, clutching her hands together. And Alec, my best friend, my brother, the man whose nose I’m about to break is lounging behind his desk.
Ah, and two guards standing behind the couch, their guns drawn and aiming at Cormac Sr.’s head.
“You finished too quickly, I should have given you a harder target,” I say, putting my hands in my pockets and strolling closer to his desk. I’m vibrating with rage, it’s buried under yearsof learning to control myself, but it’s there, twisting and coiling in my gut like a python.
“What can I say?” Alec says, “I had a schedule to keep tonight. I believe you recognize your father-in-law?”
MacTavish squeezes Sorcha’s hand and tries to stand and the guards flip the safeties off their guns.
“Da,” she whispers, pulling on his hand. “Please, sit down.”
He does, never taking his eyes off me. “You’re the man who bought my daughter? What kind of a man buys a woman at a slave auction!”
“The kind of man who can do business anywhere,” I say. “I recognized your daughter and knew that half the men in that room were ready to do unspeakable things to her before killing her and dumping the body at your gate.”
Sorcha flinches, and I give her a reassuring smile.
“You bought her and forced her to marry you!” MacTavish stubbornly sticks to his key issue.
“Sorcha is my wife, and I intend to honor and protect her as long as I draw breath,” I say sharply. “You, however… I owe nothing to you. I would suggest you calm down so we can figure this out.”
“There’s nothing to figure out,” Alec says, “he’s agreed to give his life for his daughter’s, so he’s not as cowardly and pathetic as I’d expected.” His gaze turns to MacTavish and his face darkens, like storm clouds over the sun. He swallows the rest of his drink and rises to make another.
“You want one?” he offers, holding up a glass.
“Not right now, thank you.”
He chuckles, “Alastair and I have been known to down expensive bottles of scotch on occasion. I’d say I’m drowning my demons in Macallen, but it seems they know how to swim.” His hands are steady as he pours the drink, so he’s not too far gone.
Yet.
Looking around the room, I notice that Caroline and MacTavish don’t look at each other, even though he’s examining everyone else in the room. Sorcha’s huge eyes are still fixed on me, and Alec throws himself heavily back into his chair.
“You’re just in time,” he says, toasting me with his glass before draining half of it. “My mother came bursting into the study just moments ago. I’m a bit unhappy about that since my next order of business was to shoot MacTavish. Several times, in fact.”
“Stop this!” Caroline’s anguished voice halts Alec’s ponderings on how to murder Sorcha’s father.
Something I know I cannot allow him to do.
“Mother, you shouldn’t be here.” Alec’s voice softens as he watches a tear run down her cheek. “This is going to happen. How could you not want justice for the man who murdered your husband? My father?”
“Because…” she restlessly pulls down her sweater, smoothing it compulsively.
“Please go, it will be quick,” he promises.
“No! You can’t kill him because-” She hurries over to his desk, hands shaking.
“Why? Mother, how the hell could you not want this?” Alec might be drunker than I thought, he stands up, pulling a Glock out of his shoulder holster.
“Alec, stop!” I say.
Sorcha stands up, trying to cover her father. “You canna do this!”
“Sweetheart, sit down,” MacTavish says urgently.
The guards look back and forth, perplexed and eventually staring at Alec, waiting for instructions.
“Because HE’S YOUR FATHER!” Caroline shrieks, slapping her hand over her mouth in shock.
