Page 31 of Tempted

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, this is so comfy I could cry.” I remark, adjusting the ties around the hoodie.

“Keep it. I’ll never wear it.” He says, taking my tea from the table. “I’ll get you another.”

“No, that’s okay. I should go.”

His brows furrow and he all but squeaks. “Like hell you are. Look outside. Did you know that there’s a hurricane coming?”

“We’re not on an evacuation order, Malcolm. It’s fine.”

“Not yet, but South Carolina is, lass. You'll never get back home now. Frankly, I’m surprised that you were able to take the back roads.”

“I know my way. It’s not a big deal. I’ve driven through hurricanes before for work.”

“Aye? I can’t imagine how appreciative your staff are for that. Jesus Christ, even my Uncle Dougall lets staff work from home in these situations.”

“I never said that I extend that expectation to my staff. Besides, the team that I work closest with are oblivious to weather. They want to get the job done, just like me. That’s why I hired them. For their attitudes.”

His jaw muscles work. “Have you heard anything about Callum?”

“No. I figured that your team would have dug stuff up by now. Shows you how good they really are. I thought you swore by them.”

His nostrils flare. “They have better things to do than hunt down a granny killer, Steph. In case you didn’t notice, you’re the one holding evidence that could be fucking up the case. Besides, I thought you said that Moira had police investigating it.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I sneer. “He’s in hiding. And if your investigative team was worth their salt, they would have found him by now.”

“Like I said, my Uncle doesn’t approve of pulling them off all other projects to get them chasing down a granny killer. As long as we’ve got eyes on Moira, it doesn’t matter. Our lives are not in danger.”

Something occurs to me. “And why would you have a man following me, hm? If you don’t give a shit, that is.” I scoff.

“Goddamn Declan.” He growls. “He’s got a big fucking mouth.”

“So what. Maybe he thinks that I have a right to know when some goon is following me.”

“Then why are you bitching about it? If you want me to call him off, I will, lass. Just say the fucking word!” He’s pissed and the kettle is boiling again. He rises to go get me another tea. I give him credit. The man knows when to leave a room to diffuse a situation. The minute that he’s gone, I calm down slightly.

When he returns, he hands me the second tea, and he sits. He clasps his hands together, knees parted, elbows resting on his knees. “Steph, I’m not sure why you’re here, or what you want from me, so why don’t you just tell me. If you want me to call Rory off, I will. If you want me to back the fuck off and let you go out into the fucking hurricane, I will. But if you’re going to question every step I take when you don’t seem to give a fuck about me, then you can go to hell, okay? I’ve been in a fucked-up relationship before, and I’m not up for that again. I just saw the girl that fucked me up again, and it was a very unpleasant reminder of hellish things that happened in the past.”

That’s when his phone rings. He doesn’t bother to excuse himself, like a gentleman, no, he just answers it. “Rush, what’s up.”

I watch him, as his eyes are on me, and I can’t help but feel the burning desire inside me. Those eyes. They’re so gorgeous. Bluey green, bright, with long, dark lashes, and they’re so innocent, yet so mysterious. I could stare at them for hours. But I try to divert my glance, even though I refuse to leave the room, since he’s clearly proven that he doesn’t need privacy, or he would have done so himself. My thighs are damp, and without underwear or a bra, all my nerve endings are awake and alert.

Malcolm is so fucking hot and he doesn’t even know it. And that’s the part that’s the sexiest. There is nothing that turnsme off more than a man that knows he’s all that. Modesty is key. And Malcolm is it. My nipples are beaded under the shirt, knowing that it belongs to him. Knowing that he at least wore this suit once, and that his body was next to the fabric, as is mine right now. I can’t get that thought out of my head. As he speaks to his brother, about things that I can’t decipher, I watch him. His eyes are on me almost the whole time, which turns me on to no end.

Whether it’s a focus thing, a manners thing, or what, I like it.

“Aye, is Rory on that? He’s looking into Clare, is he?” Malcolm asks, and then he nods. “Aye, if she’s lying about you and her, then lord knows what the fuck else the tramp is lying about. Uncle Dougall will appreciate the close watch, I think. Regardless of how much he thinks she’s shrewd, he won’t care for it if she’s hiding other important factors.” He pauses. “Aye, Cullen only looked into her finances, not her personal life. I’m surprised Dougall didn’t catch that, but then again, he’s got other things on his plate.”

Another pause. “I’ll call him off. She’s here with me.” He says, and his eyes almost sparkle as he looks at me, setting my pulse off. The way he says it isn’t like I’m an inconvenience, either, the way that he was making out like I was a moment ago. “Let him seek shelter, hm? Dougall’s grounded the jets now, anyway, until the storm passes.” He nods. “Sounds good. Stay safe.” He hangs up.

My voice is silky yet snide. “What did the bitch lie about?”

He swallows. “She fucked my brother, Rush. She said that it was just a fling, but according to him, it went on for the last few years, since we broke up. Evidently, my uncle is impressed by this.”

I lift a brow. “Impressed?”

He smirks and scoffs. “Aye. He thinks that she’s shrewd for playing both of us as she did.”

“Fool.” I sneer.

---