“I didn’t have one at home.”
“Manny Collins,” he says, hand on the doorknob.
“Who?”
“That’s the guard your Wicked Steps hired to follow you whenever you left the house,” he says, watching my expression. “They were never going to let you go.”
What thehellis in that report?
Gio Costa is a perfectly pleasant person. He looks Italian, speaks with a British accent and apparently, served in the Special Forces with Lucas Stewart.
“He’s married to Catriona.” He smiles at my confusion. “Oldest daughter of Cormac and Mala. Lucas built his own private security firm, the MacTavishes hire us upon occasion.”
“I’m going to make a flow chart of MacTavishes,” I say. “I’m never going to get this straight.”
“You’ll have your chance,” Gio says. “I’m to take you to a MacTavish restaurant in Edinburgh later this afternoon. Oh, hang on.” He gets up, bringing an opened package over from the table by the door. “This was delivered to MacTavish International building today; we had to open it as a security procedure.”
“That’s fine.” I put the box on my lap and pluck out the card.
I turn the card over, there’s no signature. “That’s strange. No name?”
“Agreed,” Gio says. “Though it seems like an innocent enough gift.”
It’s a book. Pulling it out of the box, I hold it up to the light. It’s very old, leather-bound with gold print. “Grimm’s Fairy Tales? That’s an odd choice.” I touch the pages carefully; they’re yellowed and fragile.
“Aschenputtel, that’s the Grimm’s version of Cinderella,” I say, lookingat the heavy ink illustrations.
“Really?” Gio says, “I’ve never heard of it.”
“The German version is much more… well, for a better word, grim than the fairy tale we’re all used to.” Putting the book on the table, I brush my hands against my skirt. “Dad had some quirky associates, but it’s a nice gesture, I guess.” The book’s heavy, the leather cover is molded into a pattern and the gold leaf of the lettering is flaking just a bit.
There’s a smell to old books that I love, aging parchment, the dusty covers. This one smells… off.
Wallace is back, and wearing a black tactical suit. “What is this?”
“A wedding present from one of my dad’s friends,” I say. “The word about our marriage is definitely out.”
“Ye covered all the security protocols?” he asks Gio.
“Yes, boss. No dangerous powders, poisons, explosive elements. I had them run the book under the scanner, just to be sure I wasn’t missing anything.”
“Excellent, thank ye,” Wallace says, slipping a jacket over his gun holster.
Eyeing his suit, “I see you’re going to be busytonight,husband,”I say. “Are you flying out?”
“It’s something close.” He gives me a kiss on the top of my head as the doorbell rings again.
“Wallace, ye are in so much trouble.” I turn in my seat to find Logan lounging against the door while two women berate my husband. “Ye know we get first dibs on the wife!” The woman speaking has a beautiful, well-modulated voice and she’s poking my husband in the chest.
“We’ve had a lot going on,” Wallace speaks and signs. “You’ll have plenty of time tonight to tell Scarlett what a disreputable bastard I am.” Turning to me, he says, still using sign language, “Scarlett Banner MacTavish-Taylor, allow me to introduce my cousins. This is Arabella, Logan’s wife.”
“A pleasure,” she beams, coming at me with her hand outstretched. She’s so pretty, long black hair and delicate, almost pocket-sized.
“Thank you, I feel the same.” I shake her hand.
“And this is Sloan, Ethan’s bride.”
“We’re a bit past the bride stage,” she says with a friendly smile. She’s wildly beautiful to the point that my throat goes dry. She’s tall, blonde, with amazing eyes that are the color of violets. “Apologies, we always try to swoop in on a new bride because there arealways so. Many. Questions.” She glares at an amused Wallaceagain.
