Page 4 of Tempted

He lifts his brows, interested. “What's that, lass?”

I use one word that says it all. “Evidence.”

Chapter 2

Malcolm

Iknow that the lass is riled up. It wouldn’t be right to put the moves on her now, even though she’s giving me all the signals to do so. If I were in her shoes, it wouldn't matter how beautiful she is, a woman coming on to me at a time like this would be a slap in the face. All the same, I can't help the pull I feel in my belly. I'm not sure what turns me on more about Steph, the fact that she is a ‘take the bull by the horns’ kind of a woman, or the fact that she's drop dead gorgeous. Her whole demeanorscreams that she's a Scot, and that just makes her all that much more alluring to me.

However, I did manage to shoot myself in the foot earlier, by telling my cousin Declan about the potential relationship that we have started. Sure, it was presumptuous, but I do detect the slightest smirk on her face since it was mentioned. She's certainly not shying away from it, which tells me that perhaps my instincts were correct. But as much as I'd love to test that theory, now is not the time.

“What sort of evidence?” I ask her out right.

“It doesn't matter right now, Malcolm. My da didn't raise a fool.”

“Nor did mine, lass. But I'd like to help if I can, and I can tell you right now that withholding something...well...that may come back to bite you in the ass later.”

Her face changes. It becomes set like stone. “Tell me how much work the authorities have done to keep your family safe, Malcolm?” She asks me. “Because Moira has told me how many security guards and private investigators that your Uncle Dougall has in his employ, which would indicate that most of the work has been done by the family. And if I know my cousin Callum like I remember him, he will skulk his way out of every ounce of trouble that he's dug himself into. So, I retract the use of the word evidence, and instead replace it with the word insurance.”

“You do understand that if you've tampered with evidence at the scene, that you could be charged, right?” I ask her carefully, feeling the charge in the air change. I'm pissing her off. I'm questioning her moves. And given that Steph is an independent woman, she doesn't like to be questioned, even if it is to help her.

And it's like she reads my mind. “I don't need your help, Malcolm. In fact, I'm not sure if staying with you is the right choice.”

Now I've offended her. “Steph, please. If you believe that your cousin murdered your granny, there could potentially be a murderer after you. And I really don't think that your condominium has enough security to offer you.”

“I can take care of myself, Malcolm.” She says, not concealing the bite in her tone.

“Well, how about a compromise, then? How about I stay at your place.” I offer. “Callum came after me first last night. Therefore, he recognizes me. And if he does worm his way up to your apartment, he'll be much more hesitant to come after you with me camping out on your couch.”

Her voice is laced with ire. “I do not wish to fuck you, Malcolm. If I wanted to do that, I would have already done so.”

I lift my hands up in defense. “Same here, lass.” I argue, but with the knowledge that my declaration holds much less clout, seeing as I've already admitted to being smitten by her.

“Bullshit.” She states firmly, crossing her arms over her chest, in a stance that I'll take as trying to be tough. Although Steph is not physically imposing by any means, my thought is that you wouldn't want to fuck with her. She is a woman that can take care of herself. After all, for all intents and purposes, she's used to dealing with men daily. Businessmen, likely as difficult as my Uncle Dougall himself. There is no doubt in my mind that Steph could ward off any assailant that may come her way. I wouldn't even be shocked if she carried.

“You have a pistol?” I test her.

“I've lived alone all my adult life, Malcolm. What do you think?”

“If you want me to leave, lass, I will.” I tell her frankly. “But, just for the record. I never came here with the intention of sleeping with you. And I'm leaving because you've asked me to, not because I know full well that I will not be rewarded for staying the night.”

While my words are meant to level the playing field, I see that they've only served to annoy her further. “Fuck you, Malcolm. If you know what's good for you, you won't go back to your Uncle Dougall. This is none of his business, nor is it any of your business. The only reason why I ever agreed to this was because of Moira.”

This whole time that we've stood here and conversed, I can't help but notice that she has a firm grasp on her purse strap. “That and the evidence that you've stolen from the scene.”

Her teeth grate together. “Get out.”

I lift my hands in defense. “If you need me, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“I won't tell you again.” She speaks through her gritted teeth, as she opens the front door, burning her gaze into mine and not in a good way, either.

On her request, I leave her. I figure, if she's man enough to kick someone of my size out of her house successfully, then she's man enough to deal with whatever comes her way, and let's face it, the man that could potentially be after her, is family. As much as he murdered his own granny, she was also an elderly woman, and not a stubborn, headstrong woman like Steph here.

I head back to Harris Investments, preparing myself to let them know that the mission has been aborted. As I make my way there, I think of ways to tell my cousins, without them bullying me for it. As it turns out, Uncle Dougall is in the boardroom with the boys, arms flailing in the air, spittle flying out of his mouth, threats and accusations firing from his lips. Of course, it's not uncommon to witness such a thing. In fact, it's ratheruncommonto make it through a meeting unscathed with Uncle Dougall.

He sees me, and points at me, eyes blazing with fire. He shouts, while veins burst from his throat from exertion.“And you!” His tone is laced with accusation, as though my appearance could not have come at a better time.

I cast my eyes downward, knowing full well that when Uncle Dougall is angry, it's best to let him vent first before speaking. Scanning the room, I notice that all other eyes are anywhere else but pointed at Dougall.

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