“Those two have a father-son relationship that’s as warm and caring as the Almighty and Lucifer’s,” Da says regretfully. “Word is out on the dark web. Richard’s taking bids for the formula, the little bastard. I dinna think he’ll give it up for his sperm donor’s safe return.”
“I thought Deacon was the more dangerous of the two,” I admit. “Richard escaping our menandwith the nerve gas formula was not a factor I ruled in for the rescue. But we do have Grayson in custody. Extracting enough information to track down hisskobieof a son is surely possible.”
“Not if the other four families involved are hiding Richard,” Uncle Cormac says. I know he’s angry. I called in the cavalry too soon. But I also know any other man or woman at this table would have done the same thing.
“I dinna fulfill my mission.” I stand up from the table, nodding respectfully. “I submit myself for punishment.”
“Sit your arse down, ya eejit,” Uncle Cormac scolds me. “Ya did well with what time ya had. I likely would have lost my patience and killed ‘em all the second day in. We have intel and a hostage. Let’s take a break, all of ya head home and get some sleep. Lachlan’s having a chat with Armstrong as we speak.”
“It is possible that I might be feeling a wee bit sorry for the poor bastard,” Wallace says. “I’ve seen Uncle Lachlan in action.”
“It’s nothing Armstrong dinna deserve,” Da says. “We’ll meet again in the morning after Georges and Xenia have combed through the data they pulled before we incinerated the island.”
Uncle Cormac’s gaze turns to Catriona. “There is an undisputable law in the MacTavish Clan. We dinna kill women. Why did you poison them, too?”
Cat’s always been a fierce little thing, and she looks her father right in the eye. “Those girls lured Luna and her friend to that island. After those feckingLordswere finished with them, they would have sold them off. We already found the email Armstrong sent to a potential buyer with roots deep in human trafficking. It would have happened again. And again.” Father and daughter are staring each other down as the rest of us lean back slightly to stay out of the way of the energy crackling between them.
“I will always judge women more harshly,” Catriona says, “because we are better than men. I stopped them fromdestroying any more lives, and I will never be sorry for it. Chieftain,” she adds hastily.
The stare down continues until Uncle Cormac nods. “Last question. What’s the likelihood that Richard knows we’re responsible?”
“Not high,” I say. “The Lords never questioned my identity, and we destroyed all the video footage in the house.”
He nods with a smile. “Off ya go, then. We’ll talk in the morning.”
My arsehole cousins might give me shite for my haste in returning to Luna, though no one can disagree that she deserves some careful handling right now.
“Have ya ordered Luna a new passport, then?” Logan’s dropping me off at my place.
“We’ve been off the island for less than six hours,” I say sourly. “I’ve been a wee bit busy, brother.”
He laughs in a way that makes me want to elbow him in the chest again. “Admit that you dinna want to. She’s bonnie, that one.”
“More than,” I agree. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in an age, though it’s her fierceness that makes her irresistible.
Feck. I’m gettin’ hard just thinking about her.
Willing my cock to go down, I throw my keys on the table in the front hall. The girls are cackling, and I follow the sound into the great room.
Ah, shite. Catriona brought out the troops. She and Luna are laughing uncontrollably on one of the couches while my cousins Maisie and Sloan fold a pile of clothes they’ve brought for her. Inotice four bottles of my Boërl & Kroff Magnum 1996 and a litter of champagne glasses covering the coffee table.
“I see you ladies are showing our guest a grand time,” I say, leaning against the doorway.
“Oh, you’re home then!” Cat gives a ladylike burp. “We took Luna on a tour of your wine cellar. Folding clothes is hard work.”
Luna’s cheeks are flushed with laughter and €4,600 bottles of champagne, and I dinna mind a bit.
“Did they at least feed ya before getting ya sloshed, lass?”
“Yes,” she says, holding up an empty takeaway box. “We saved some food for you; it’s in the fridge.”
“Good lass,” I say, watching her face turn even redder.
“Aaaand, that’s our cue to leave,” Sloan says, rising and hauling a giggling Maisie up with her. “Luna’s set for clothes for a while, and we brought some makeup and other girl stuff as well.” She shakes her head sadly. “This man leads a tragic bachelor life, Luna. It’s a miracle he didn’t rip out all the toilets and just install urinals in all the bathrooms.”
“Not a good visual after a big meal,” Luna says. “I’ll go… uh… heat up your food.”
My cousins make as much noise as possible exiting my house, and I’m left with a half-drunk Luna and enough clothes to set up a dress shop.
