Page 3 of Beautiful Vengeance

He made a mental list of repairs to be done around the property and stopped at the stables to let the horses out into the field before going back into the house to get the rest of the meal going. With the recent time change it would already be dark in another few hours.

“Roast beef?” an eager voice said from the kitchen doorway.

Marcus looked up from the meat he was tenting on a cutting board and smiled at Megan. “Aye.” His life had never been the same after meeting her, and it had all led to this.

With an appreciative sound she walked over to peek under the foil. “Been a long time since we had one of those. What’s the occasion?”

“It’s Bonfire Night and Mrs. Biddington has the day off, so I thought I’d make us a proper Sunday roast for tea.”

“Tea?” She glanced at her watch. “You mean dinner.”

He shook his head, smiling. Dinner to him was at midday. “Supper, then.”

“Yum. I’ll help.” She reached into a drawer and pulled out an apron, quickly tying it around her waist. “What can I do?”

The roast and potatoes he’d basted with the drippings were already done. “You can peel and prep the rest of the veg.”

She made a face. “Fine.” She took the peeler and stood at the sink to begin peeling the pile of carrots. “You watched the security feeds yet?”

“Aye. They’ve been setting off more in the northwest corner as well.”

She grunted, dropping long, orange peelings into the sink as she worked. “They’ll stop in a couple days, but we’re all on edge enough already. What do you want me to do with these when I’m done?”

“Slice them into chunks and drop them in that pot of salted water on the stove.”

She reached for a paring knife from the butcher block on the counter. “When’s the last time we cooked together?”

“A while ago.” Too long. Though they hadn’t spent much time together lately, they shared a special bond.

The day they’d met, she’d pulled him from the jaws of certain death—against his wishes—and forced him to live. The least he could do when she’d needed protection after the Valkyrie Program was disbanded and she’d become a target was let her stay with him, but when she’d come here all those months ago, he’d never imagined how attached he’d become to her.

They’d gone riding together often and he’d set up archery targets for her along the trails. Most evenings they’d sit in his study enjoying a hot brew and reading. But now that she’d married Ty and moved into the gatehouse, they didn’t spend a lot of time together anymore. He missed it.

“Man, that roast smells good. Are you gonna make Yorkshire puddings too?” Her voice held a hopeful note.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Of course.” It wasn’t a proper roast beef supper without Yorkshire puds.

“Awesome. You’d better make extra, or we’ll all end up fighting over them. Where did you learn to make this, anyway?”

“My Aunt Lucy.”

Megan stopped and raised her eyebrows at him. “You never told me you had an aunt.”

He shrugged. “Not a real one. Me mum’s best mate. She taught me to make a proper roast with all the trimmings when I was around twelve or so.” He wasn’t a fancy cook and didn’t cook all that often, but this was one meal he had down pat.

Just as he finished tossing the potatoes and tenting the meat, a quivering black nose appeared over the edge of the granite countertop beside the roasting pan. Karas never strayed too far from him, especially in the kitchen in case something got dropped on the floor.

“Away wi’ you, spoiled brat,” he said with a grin, tossing Karas a small chunk of carrot. She sniffed it, walked away in disdain and lay down with a groan on the mat in front of the sink, watching him with reproachful brown eyes. How dare he try and sneak a vegetable into her.

“Oh, Karas, knock it off,” Megan said with a laugh. “You’ll get plenty of meat later and you know it. Such a diva.” She put the carrots on to boil. “Do you remember much else about Aunt Lucy?”

“Aye. She was nice to me. Would read to me and let me help decorate biscuits and make mince pies at Christmas.”

“That sounds nice.” Megan’s voice was wistful. She didn’t often talk about her past.

“Do you remember anything about your aunt?” The only other relative she’d ever mentioned to him other than her parents, who had died in a car accident when she was young.

“Not really. Just her being at our house for Christmas dinner once or twice. I don’t think she and my mom got along. Although I do remember her taking us for ice cream after our parents died. But then she decided she didn’t want to be our guardian. That was the last time we saw her, in the lawyer’s office.”

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