It was one thing meeting Logan’s family in the comfort of his parent’s home - after a car chase and a shootout when I was too shaken up to have time to worry. The wee detail my husband neglected to mention about tonight untilnowis that MacTavish International is sponsoring the performance. Now there’s cousins and aunts and uncles and second and third cousins once-removed to face.
This black evening gown is very simple, thank the lord, though I know that simple in this case usually means obscenely expensive. It fits snugly in all the right places and for a strapless dress, it’s surprisingly comfortable, though that long slit in the skirt means I’m gonna have to pay some decisive attention to how I stand up and sit down. One of the boxes held black high heels with the signature red Louboutin soles and I’m leaning heavily against the wall, awkwardly trying to put them on.
“We should stay home. I canna concentrate with ye looking like this.”
Logan’s behind me, reflected in our full length mirror and looking all kinds of braw in his tuxedo. I remember on the night we met he’d been wearing it, and even before finding out he was in danger I’d been surreptitiously looking at him all night. Of course, so was every other woman and probably half the men in that room, so I dinnae feel guilty about it.
Now, though, this man is mine.
At least for now.
Smoothing my hands over his chest, I shake off that thought. “This tuxedo is bespoke, aye? There’s no off the rack suit that fits shoulders like yours.”
He rolls his eyes.“Nothingoff the rack seems to fit me. Now you, baby… you’d look bonnie in a potato sack. Now, wearing this? I’m going armed tonight to keep men off ye.”
“Really now? You’d go armed anyway and we both know it. Please dinnae shoot anyone, though. There are few enough people who like classical music. I used to play some of the louder pieces in my classroom for the bairns. They lovedTchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture.”
“Tonight’s performance is gonna be a lot of fun, then.” He runs his hands down along my waist, thumbs stroking the velvet bodice. “Berlioz's Requiem, loud as feck with a big brass section.”
“Oh! I’ve always wanted to hear theRequiemperformed before…” my smile drops for a moment but I pin it back on my face, “before I lost my hearing completely. Thank ye, this will be a wonderful night!”
Something flickers in Logan’s eyes before he clears his throat. “Did ye open the last box?”
Smoothing down the front of my dress again, I shake my head. “I dinnae think anything else is going to fit in here, husband.”
“Close your eyes.”
I do, and he slips something cool around my neck.
“Ye can look.”
It’s a diamond necklace, with a big amber stone set in the center. His long fingers settle the chain over my collarbones so the stone centers just below them. “I saw this necklace in a store window in Milan, and I had to get it. It’s the color of your eyes.”
“My eyes are brown. Are ye needing glasses already?”
“Not just brown. When the light hits them your eyes glow, golden like this amber. Aye, that’s perfect.”
He has to lean down - even with me in these skyscraper heels - to put his bearded cheek against mine. Logan is a man reckless enough to set fire to three yachts because the owner “annoyed him,” yet attentive enough to find facets in my eye color that look like a priceless stone.
How am I going to let him go when the time comes?
The Glasgow Royal Concert Hall isn’t my favorite of the legendary buildings downtown. It’s modern, brick, with few embellishments, though the curve of the structure is pretty. It also has a massive lobby where apparently half the city’s population is milling around, holding drinks and showing off their new designer wear or latest expensive watch.
The clamor of everyone talking and laughing is overwhelming, and I squeeze Logan’s bicep, closing my eyes.
“Are ye okay, sweetheart? I can take ye to our box right now if ye like.” His lips are brushing my ear and I canna help the little shiver that passes through me. He gives me a very light, very quick bite on my neck with a bit of a guttural chuckle.
“I’m grand, I can do it. I just need a moment to filter out some of the noise.” I put myself in “server mode,” the way I did when I used to work big crowds with my server’s tray full of drinks. Focus on who’s in front of me. Pay attention to where I am in relation to everyone else so I dinnae bump into anyone… I can do this.
“Ye look so fecking beautiful that I dinnae think I can wait until we get home,” Logan growls in my ear. “I might need to find us a quiet coat closet and get ye cock drunk.”
“What?”I burst into laughter, which I’m certain was his dastardly plan.
“Ah, there they are, my grandson and his lovely new bride.”
My big, bad husband turns to stone.
“It’s grand ye could make it,Seanmhair agus Seanair.”Logan shakes the hand of a tall gentleman in his seventies with a rough, craggy face and broad shoulders. He’s clearly a MacTavish and wearing the kilt to prove it. He has his arm around the most terrifying women I’ve encountered in my life, I canna exactly explain why.
