Page 27 of Sadie's Highlander (Highland Protector 1)

“I was not aware that allowing my sister to play with the screenwriters was part ofouragreement.” Delia scooted to sit ramrod straight on the edge of the couch and slid her glass to the table.

Alec gently set Sadie aside, moved past her, and thudded his fists down onto the table. Leaning over until he was nearly nose to nose with Delia, his voice rumbled low and dangerous, almost sounding like the throaty growl of an enraged beast. “Now ye ken that Sadie writin’ is verra much a part of our deal, aye?”

Delia lifted her pointed chin, her sneer shifting to an imperious look of sheer boredom. “If you must know, I had planned on briefing Seth, Holly, and Abe at this afternoon’s meeting.” She shifted her smirk to Sadie. “I was just teasing you. You always get bent out of shape so easily.”

Bullshit.Delia never teased. She’d shifted back into her defensiveI was just kiddingmode—the same excuse she’d always used when they were children and she was finally scolded for being even more cruel than her parents or the servants could ignore.

“Abe said the script is finished. All the scenes are done and they’re only on site in case dialogue runs too short or long or needs to be amped up historically. If that’s true, then you know as well as I do that I’m not needed.”

“Well, Abe is not the producer nor the owner of Realm Spinners and contrary to what he might think, he doesn’t know everything about this film.” Delia sank back into the cushions of the couch, curling her glass of water to her chest as though it were a cherished pet. A conniving gleam brightened her features. Delia looked like a cat about to pounce. “I had planned on contacting you this morning about your contribution to this project. We need some super-hot scenes for the film. You know as well as I do that sex sells tickets, and so far all we have are several lead-ins that all fade to black. I need some scenes that are guaranteed to make the women in the theater wet their panties and start lap-dancing on the men beside them.” Her gaze shifted to Alec, then moved back to Sadie. One thin brow arched a bit higher and she took a long, slow sip, then slid her glass back to the table. “Write some hot sex and bring the scenes to me. I want at least three—more would be even better. You’ve got two weeks. Think you can manage that?”

“You want me to write these scenes without working with the other writers?” Sadie’s mind was whirling. This was a trap. She knew it was, but if she could pull this off…“Aren’t you worried about the continuity of the storyline since you’ll be filming while I’m working on these ‘hot’ scenes?”

Delia rose from the couch, toddled across the room in her spike-heeled boots and too-tight pencil skirt, and pulled open one of the drawers of a large mahogany built-in. Pawing through the drawer, she frowned down into the folders. “I’ll give you a copy of the script.” Slamming the drawer shut with her narrow hip, she tossed the manila folder onto the table and shoved it toward Sadie. “And besides, you know as well as I do that films are pieces just stitched together. We’ll do the sex scenes back in LA’s closed sets. Better lighting from every angle. Then we’ll splice them in. It’s not like we’re making a constantly looping home movie.”

Sadie scooped the folder up from the table, glancing at the pages as she thumbed through them. What choice did she have? It was either take Delia’s offer or not get a shot at her dream at all. “Two weeks?”

“Two weeks,” Delia repeated. “And don’t forget you’re still responsible for Mr. MacDara here. I’m sure he’ll still insist on a very ‘hands-on’ approach to ensure we’re keeping to the contract.” The way Delia said “hands-on” left no doubt whatsoever as to what she was insinuating. Her smirk shifted to an even darker shade ofinsultingas she winked. “Who knows? Maybe he can help you with those scenes.”

Alec lunged forward, slammed Delia’s laptop closed, then leaned on it until the machine crackled and popped. Its blinking lights flickered out, then it went silent beneath his fist. “What a pity. A bit of carelessness seems to have destroyed yer machine. Poor treatment tends t’do that, ye ken?”

“Are you threatening me?” Delia hissed.

“I ne’er threaten,” Alec coldly replied. “I merely keep to my promises.”

Chapter 12

The phone perched in the dashboard cubbyhole of the Jeep vibrated and pinged in rapid succession. Alec glared at the intrusive monstrosity. The damnable square of annoyance had to have been created by demons determined to keep men enslaved. He nodded toward the buzzing phone. “Would ye be so kind as to see who’s in such a panic? I dinna fool with the thing when I’m drivin’.”

Sadie plucked up the phone and read the screen. “Looks like you’ve got four texts. Your mother, Grant, Ramsay…” Her voice trailed off and she peered closer at the phone, then looked up at him with barely contained mirth. “And Mammaw Bear?”

Dwyn chuckled from the backseat. “Mistress Martha. From the bed-and-breakfast where ye stayed when ye first arrived in Brady.”

Mistress Martha. Twin sister to Mistress Lydia, and nearly as meddling. “What does the text from Mistress Martha say?” He wasn’t as concerned about the texts from his mother and brothers. If there was a family emergency, Dwyn would immediately know and gather them together faster than any modern-day text from the irritating contraption his family insisted he carry.

“Mammaw Bear says”—Sadie paused and shot him a teasing look before continuing—“your favorite pecan pie is ready and if you want it warm enough to melt the ice cream, you better hurry.”

Perhaps a relaxing lunch at the bed-and-breakfast would help erase the bad taste this morning had left in his mouth. Alec’s grip tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened. ’Twould be a sorry chore indeed to get through the next six weeks without throttling Sadie’s sister. “ ’Tis nearly time for the midday meal.” He peered at Dwyn in the rearview mirror. “Will ye be joinin’ us then?” Silently, he hoped the demigod would say no.

The corners of Dwyn’s eyes crinkled with an understanding smile. “Thank ye, but I must decline. I’ve urgent business to attend to, and I also wish to check into the additional surveillance cameras I spoke about. If ye’d be so kind as to let me out at the corner, I’ll be about the rest of my day.”

“Would ye be ready for a bite to eat?” Alec glanced over at Sadie as he slowed the Jeep, pulled up next to the curb, and let Dwyn out.

Sadie waved to Dwyn as they pulled away, then turned back to Alec. “I could definitely go for a piece of pecan pie.”

“ ’Tis settled then. Pecan pie it is.”

Alec headed the Jeep up Main Street and parked in front of the grand Victorian house sprawled across a corner lot ablaze with the oranges, yellows, and deep burgundy reds of cushion mums in full bloom. A weathered sign with white letters outlined in gold swung from the front of the wraparound porch filled with wicker rockers, chairs, and love seats plumped and welcoming with throws and pillows quilted in autumnal colors:Brady’s Bed and Breakfast. Welcome to All. A grapevine swag decorated with miniature pumpkins and fall flowers hung around the brightly painted front door with panels of stained glass squared in its center.

“I love this place. It feels like a big hug from a long-lost friend.” Sadie trailed her fingertips up the white banister as they walked up the front steps.

Alec held open the door and smiled. “Aye. Mistress Martha is the grandest hostess the town of Brady has ever known.” He leaned in close and nodded toward the tiny gray-haired woman heading toward them. “And God help ye if ye make her angry,” he murmured.

“I heard that.” Miss Martha thumped a finger to the center of Alec’s chest as she walked past him. “Keep that chatter up and this young lady will be the only one getting any pie.” She scooped up Sadie’s hand, tucked it in the crook of her thin arm, and gave it a friendly pat. “It’s good to see you again. Is my sister takin’ good care of you?”

“Miss Lydia is fantastic.” Sadie and Martha’s voices melted into the companionable dinnertime noises of the busy bed-and-breakfast as they entered the dining room and Miss Martha led them to a table.

Coming here was a good thing. Alec noted that Sadie had finally relaxed after the confrontation with her sister and those damn people—those writer folk that she seemed so intent on working with though for the life of him, he couldna fathom why. The lot of them treated her poorly, as though she were beneath them. Seth was the only one who’d been remotely civil to her. Why would she wish to be around them? And why did she stay with a sister who treated her like a despised servant?

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