Page 3 of Desired

His eyes search mine, and then he summons the waitress for the bill, as if we have to leave suddenly. Either he’s a man on a mission when it comes to business, or else he’s got the same flip flopping going on in his belly as I do. “Are we ready?” He asks politely, once he pays the bill.

“Aye. I think I know where Harris Investments is. Shall I follow you?”

He changes tack. “I’ll drive. We’re going to my place.”

Another stomach flip. “Okay.”

The way he says it, with his eyes downcast, but with a sort of scheming tone, I think that I’m reading him right. “Too many questions.” He adds, almost bashfully. “My da doesn’t usually let anyone through the doors unless he has a full report.”

“Ah. I see.” I smile, thinking that maybe this is just business. I try to tamp down the disappointment brewing inside. He leads me to his truck, parked outside, and opens the passenger side door for me first.

During the trip to his house, he looks at me speculatively. “Do you always get into the vehicles of strange men?”

“I would be remiss to call you a strange man, Declan.” I answer honestly. “If you were out to harm me, I’m sure that every newspaper in the state of North Carolina would know about it. You do know that your family is photographed almost as often as a celebrity’s family, right?”

“How do you know I couldn’t pay someone off to keep quiet?” He tests.

“It’s the eyes, Declan. You have honest eyes. I would also feel it in my bones if I wasn’t safe.” I tell him, speaking from experience. That same feeling is what led me here to the states, but I keep that to myself. He seems satisfied with that response.

“You have a good internal instinct.”

“Aye. Growing up in Scotland, with a band of brothers, being the only girl, I grew a pair fast.” I make up my mind that that’s all the talk of my family. So, I change the subject, bringing up financial matters, an obvious choice. We just touch on surface items, like what markets he recommends, and then he asks me about my house, and whether it’s an investment. “Not at this point, no.” I reply, knowing that for now, my goal is to keep a low profile.

“I suppose with a bunch of brothers, that nobody would mess with you, either.” He adds, circling back to the subject of my family, and I start to wonder if this trip is for naught. The less he knows about my family, the better, but I don’t want to throw him off by being too guarded.

“You’d be surprised, Declan.” I say elusively, as we turn a corner, and he starts to drive up a long hill, and then it levels off, to a beautiful parcel of land. “Is this yours?”

“Aye. I bought this place off my great grandfather. I won a bet between my brothers and me. Everyone wanted this place when he passed on.”

“I can see why.” I glance around, in awe. The wrought iron gates, accented with what I’m guessing is his family crest, is all that stands in front of the long, spiraling driveway, leading into a gorgeous estate. Lush grass, manicured greenery, and tall trees peppered in a strategic pattern lend itself to the natural beauty of the land.

“Wait until you see inside.”

“I can hardly.” I chuckle.

...but we don’t make it inside.

Chapter 2

Declan

I’mgoingtokillMaverick. I know he’s up to something. Sure, it’s working, but it looks bad. Can’t say that he hasn’t done this to me before, but the last time he pulled this kind of shit, it was with a fucking escort. That sort of thing is a lark when it’s a whore, but not when it’s the most beautiful lass in the world. And I told him those things in confidence. I should have known better. The asshole. But as I watch her face light up while we pull into the driveway, I decide to plant my seed accordingly, and take her to the guest house first. This way I can wow her there, and then go in for the kill, taking her to the main house afterward.

Why I’m taking leave of my senses, forgetting about all the things that I already know about Moira, I don’t know. Maybe I figure I’ll take Maverick’s word on it and give her a chance. Get her side of the story first, before believing the things that our almost-hired new spy has uncovered for me. Da would have a shit if he knew. More so about me using a spy that he hasn’t fully checked out yet, or getting involved with a lass that has a shoddy track record at best. I know I’ll hang for this. But something inside me won’t let her go. The fact that she’s so beautiful, smart, hardworking, and if I’m reading the signals accurately, she’s feeling something for me, too, is utterly novel.

The cobblestone drive leading to the guest house is lined with a variety of small flowers. The house was designed to look like a little cottage, and it’s fitting. It’s a smaller version of the main house, but with a sort of miniature flair. Almost whimsical. Being a fan of The Lord of the Rings, I found myself wanting to mimic some of the themes in the stories. “This house is darling!” She says, as we pull up, and I open the garage door with the remote tucked under my visor. “Thanks. This house wasn’t built when I bought the place. I had it done custom.”

“You can tell. It’s very cute.”

“Truth be told, I spend a lot of time in here versus in the main house.”

“Is this where your office is?”

“I have one in both. My laptop has a docking station in both as well. I’ve got a charging station, too. Much of my work is done remotely or electronically, anyhow, so my office goes where I go.”

“I take it you travel a lot?” She asks as I exit the truck and walk over to let her out, extending my gallantry. She has the grace to stay inside and let me do it, too.

“Aye, I’m all over the place, most of the time. And when I’m home, I normally come here first.”

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