“You had me at macaroons,” I sigh.
Putting the box on a little table by the bank of windows, she drags over two chairs and produces some napkins. “Tuck in,” she says before taking an enormous bite of one of the tarts.
It’s possible that Kenna is my soul mate since she has even less interest in conversation than I do while there are desserts to be had. It’s only after the box is nothing but cake wrappers and crumbs that she sits back with a blissful sigh.
“Best thing you’ll ever put in your mouth, aye?”
Looking at the last bite of my macaroon, I ask, “What’s in this? It’s more solid than the ones I’ve had before.”
Kenna licks her fingers. “Potatoes. They take mashed potatoes, mix them with icing sugar to form a circle, and then dip them in chocolate and coconut flakes.”
“Well, I happen to like potatoes, too, so this might be the only thing I eat for the rest of…” My enthusiasm melts as I realize she has seduced me with soft words and even softer sweets.
She smiles like she knows exactly what I’m thinking. “There ya were, minding your own business on holiday, and now it’s allgone sideways and ya dinna know what the hell is going on, aye?”
“Did your brother send you up here to keep me from freaking out?”
“To be honest, I would think ya were a nutter if ya weren’t freaking out,” she says, sweeping the crumbs off the table and throwing the box away.
“Nutter. Is that an official psychological diagnosis?”
“Of course,” she says placidly.
“Speaking of freaking out, why aren’t you?” I ask. “These monsters are threatening to kill your entire family.”
“To be honest, this is not the worst threat the MacTavish Clan has faced,” she says. “We crushed the bastards then, and we’ll crush them now.”
There’s the savage MacTavish streak,I think.
“But in the meantime, what to do with you?” Kenna smiles, though there’s a bit of steel in there, too. “I can almost see you with one foot out the door, aye?”
Involuntarily, my eyes dart to the windows.
“Or, out the windows like a bird flying free,” she laughs before sobering quickly. “I know you’re new to this life, but when my brother tells ya there’s no other way, thereisno other way. I know we’re on short acquaintance here, but I like ya. And I dinna want to imagine what will happen if ya try to go out on your own.”
“I’ve taken care of myself since my parents died when I was twelve,” I say sharply. “I’m not helpless. The concept of a man casually telling me that I have no choice but to,” I make airquotes with two fingers, “be under his care is…” I search for the right words. “It’s everything I’m not.”
“One of the hardest things to accept in this clan is the utter overprotectiveness of the men,” Kenna says. “Unfortunately, enough terrible things have happened to the people we love that the endless hovering isn’t going away any time soon. I have a bodyguard who is the approximate size and shape of a wooly mammoth and he sits in my waiting room all day. My patients are terrified of him.
“Kai is one of the more reserved of us. He does more watching than jumping in. He takes his responsibilities very seriously and sometimes, that makes him rigid and a wee bit of an arsehole to deal with. The most infuriating thing is when heisright and we must admit it.”
Kenna pats my arm and stretches, groaning. “I have to get back to the hospital for my rotation,” she says. “And fight off wantin’ a nap because those Ecclefechan tarts are making me want to curl up on that bed right there.”
“Isn’t that bed amazing?” I agree. “Like sleeping in the sweet embrace of something magical, like a unicorn or a narwhal.”
“What’s with you and the pointy magical creatures?” Kenna says with a wink.
“A narwhal is real,” I point out.
“True. If Freud were here, misogynist that he was, I’m sure he’d interpret your focus on creatures with long, thick body parts as a subconscious wish for-”
“Oh, stop it right there!” I yelp. “Stop before this warm feeling I have for you brought on by the pastries is gone.”
“After six years at University, I can tell ya that the field of psychology is comprised of about 97% sex and 3% daddy issues,” she laughs. “Though that might just be in the mafia, I’m not sure. I’ll leave ya to explore the place. Kai’s gone off to meet with the others, and ya have guards at each entrance.”
Following her down the stairs, I see what she means. A guy who looks like he pulls tractors across fields for fun is stationed at the front door.
“Can I hug ya?” Kenna opens her arms. “I’m one of those.”
