“I think she needs to be spanked into submission,” Ian said.
Quinn’s smile faded as she picked up her silverware and turned toward Ian. “Kinky, but if you think you’re man enough, and willing to risk testing me to see what I can do with a knife, then bringit on.” She raised her brow, daring him to make a move.
“Ian. Be nice.” Collin’s smooth baritone voice did little to stifle the anger stirring in her belly. Quinn wasn’t normally the psychotic woman she was portraying. Not intentionally, although others might disagree. These men brought out the worst in her, specifically Ian.
“I apologize for Ian’s lack of manners, Ms. Thatcher. He’s just uptight about the curse, and we’d both like to know how you found out there was one, and how you found the emerald.”
They wanted to know how she knew. Heck, if she were in their shoes, she’d be curious too. Quinn let out a long sigh and plopped another fry into her mouth before waving them in closer, into a huddle.
“I see dead people.” She said it loud enough for the entire bar to hear, hoping that once these two were gone, no others would try to replace them.
“I knew she was crazy. The lass is a witch, and it explains her need to use violence.”
“Surprisingly, you bring that out in me all by yourself. Now if you don’t mind.” Quinn gestured toward the door.
Neither one of them moved to stand. Ian’s lips twisted at the corners, as if he enjoyed pushing her buttons.What’s wrong with me that I’m taking the bait? I’msmarter than that.I have more class in my pinky than the Neanderthal does in his biceps.She rolled her eyes and ate another fry, debating if it was the lack of food making her so bitchy.
Collin leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “If you see dead people, prove it.”
Quinn grabbed another fry and pointed it in his direction. “I’m not a performing monkey.”
“Then why should we believe you? Maybe your family stole the stone.”
Her family had been accused of worse. Her father was a shark in business; her mother was like the enforcer of her charity organization, and Quinn and her sisters… well they were psychic investigators that some skeptics referred to as Satan worshipers. She didn’t know why she’d thought these guys would understand. She sounded crazy, and she was okay with that. Maybe she was going about this all wrong. Quinn let out an exaggerated sigh and gave Collin a tired glance.
“You have a chick in a blue dress that likes to hang out in one of your towers.”
“Gwinnie.” Ian lifted his beer toward Collin before he sipped.
“That’s a legend, like the curse,” Collin said, as if unconvinced.
Quinn didn’t need to prove herself to these guys. What did they want from her? “Obviously, you’re a skeptic, and hey”—she lifted her hands in surrender—“that’s your prerogative. I’m not here to change your mind. I found your family heirloom and returned it out of the goodness of my heart. Can’t you just let it go?”
Collin slipped a phone out of his pocket. He scrolled in search of only God knew what. It didn’t matter. At least he wasn’t talking, and it was nice to know he wasn’t from the Stone Age, like the electrical plugs in the small bed and breakfast that called itself a hotel. A plug adapter should be a requirement for entering the country, much like a passport.
“Do you know how much that emerald is worth?” Ian asked.
“Nope, and I don’t care.” Quinn smiled sweetly, shoving another fry in her mouth. She wasn’t about to let him bait her again. Southern charm might be more effective. If she acted nice, maybe they’d both get bored and leave her to eat in peace.
Creases formed around Collin’s eyes as a smile split his lip. He abandoned his phone and lifted the pint to his lips. The fabric of his sleeve pulled deliciously around his bulging biceps.Focus. He wasn’t a foreign booty call, and whatever Mr. Tall, Dark, and Orgasmic wore underhiskilt would remain a mystery, although judging by the bulge behind the zipper ofhis jeans, she might be inclined to change her mind if he’d ask sweetly.
“Did you know there was a reward? Is that why you came?” Collin asked.
Clarence shimmered into the room behind both men, making the air colder. She spotted goosebumps rising on Collin’s arms, yet everyone but her seemed oblivious to Clarence’s presence. Quinn narrowed her eyes at the ghost that had sent her into this mess. No good deed went unpunished.
“I don’t need your money, but I do know how you can repay me.”
“There it is.” McDougall lifted his pint in the air as if he’d won a prize. “I knew it. The lass is here for the money.”
“If I’d wanted money, I would have kept the almost flawless seventy-five carat emerald. It was perfect minus the tiny cut mark, jackass. Think about what you just said.”
“Ignore him, luv,” Collin said, drawing her attention back to him. A glint of humor returned to his face. “The Menzies are indebted to you. How may I offer my services?”
His naked body in a warm bed with a can of Cool Whip and chocolate sauce for starters. Her undersexed body parts tingled in awareness at his Scottish lilt when he called her luv. “What can you tell me about the McNoltes?”
Clarence frowned and disappeared. Score one for her, finally.
“The gypsy witch—” Ian started to say when Collin held up his hand.
