Page 22 of Joanna's Highlander (Highland Protector 2)

He splashed a good amount of amber liquid into both glasses, picked them up, and motioned toward a bench fitted out with enough cushions and pillows to be deemed a full-grown sofa. “Have a seat, lass. Ye look as if yer about t’bolt.”

If she thought she stood a chance at getting away, she would. But a night of no sleep, no breakfast, and damn sure not enough coffee did not make for the best prepping for a cross-country run. She accepted the glass of whisky, then backed up and leaned against the narrow wooden shelf running almost waist high around the circumference of the screen wall of windows. “I’d rather stand if you don’t mind. Don’t worry. I won’t run away, but you’ll wish I had before I’m done here.”

“I verra much doubt that.” Grant smiled as he lowered himself to the couch and took a long, slow sip from his glass without taking his gaze from her.

How could a man make the simple act of taking a drink look so damn sexy? Joanna took a hesitant swig of her own drink, then hugged the glass to her chest. The liquid created a not unpleasant burn all the way to her middle, hit her veins, and spread warmth clear to her fingertips.

Grant’s glass was dwarfed between his large hands. He patiently waited, sitting there looking at her as though she were about to read him a bedtime story.

Joanna took another hurried sip of whisky to stoke her courage and stared down at her feet. “What exactly do you want to know?”

When he didn’t answer, she leveled her gaze with his and shrugged. “There’s no sense boring you with info overload. Yesterday was amazing. It would be a lot easier if we just left it at that and moved on.” Maybe she could still talk him out of it. After all, she’d been the best bullshitter Asclepius Pharmaceuticals had ever had.

“I already told ye that yesterday wasna just about the sex.” Grant’s darkening scowl and the way he spit out the words warned Joanna that labeling their rendezvous as an unforgettable one-nighter was not an option. “Now. If ye dinna mind…proceed to tell me what exactly the fine Mr. Banks was referrin’ to when he spoke of a…how did he put it?” Grant’s eyes narrowed, then he slowly nodded. “Rat. Bastard. Aye, that was it. The rat bastard that used to go to yer slumber parties, then decided t’beat ye and break yer arm.”

“Dr. Matthew Tasker.” Even the son of a bitch’s name burned like battery acid poured into her mouth. “Gynecologist to the elite upper-crust society of Chicago, Illinois.” Joanna turned and stared out at the river peeking back at her through the trees growing along the rough hillside behind the house. So peaceful. So…serene. It seemed almost irreverent to say the things she was about to say in such a naturally holy place.

“I was the best damn drug rep that Asclepius Pharmaceuticals had ever had. Even though I’d only been there two years, I broke all the sales records. Scored the highest commissions. Raked in the primo bonuses.” Joanna killed her drink, then slid the empty glass far enough down the wood railing so she could prop her elbows on the shelf and lean on it for support. “My CEO was Dr.—PhD, not medical—Mason Tasker, and I made him look damn good.”

It was starting to rain. Joanna could almost see the budding trees stretching out to catch the sweet spring moisture filling the air, then playfully flip the caress of the droplets away. She loved rain. The sound of it pattering all around had always soothed her. She flattened her hand against the screen and forced herself to unearth the garbage from her past. “But Mason had this brother. Older brother.” Joanna watched a raindrop race down the outside glass. “Dr. Matthew Tasker was his name and annoying the living shit out of my boss Mason was his favorite game.”

“Annoying his brother,” Grant repeated. “Yer sayin’ the men werena close.”

“Oh, they were close. Closely competitive.” Joanna gripped the wooden railing and took a deep breath. “Matthew was an esteemed gynecologist, and his favorite way to piss off my CEO was by not prescribing or recommending any of AP’s drugs.”

“AP?”

“Asclepius Pharmaceuticals. Easier to say AP.”

“Aye.” Grant remained silent a moment longer, then cleared his throat. “Go on, lass. Get it all out.” The sound of his footsteps grew louder. He retrieved her glass from the shelf beside her, refilled it, and then set it back within her reach. “Yer safe here. I willna let the ghosts hurt ye.”

Silly man. You don’t have a clue.Joanna took a long, deep drink, then licked her lips. Not numb yet. She was still good for a few more hits of booze. “My boss decided he’d finally win at the asshole contest by pitting his brother against me—his number-one sales rep.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “Nobody could tell me ‘no.’ ”

“Did this Dr. Tasker know that ye worked for his brother?”

“Of course.” Joanna shrugged again, then stared down at her folded hands, pale and cold on the shelf. “That’s why it was even sweeter to my boss when Matt and I hooked up—personally as well as professionally.”

“Did you love him?”

Joanna swallowed hard. Thank goodness she’d learned how to block off the weakness of tears when she was a kid. “I thought I did. At the time.”

She turned around and faced Grant, hugging herself to hold all her broken pieces together.Damn…it’s cold in here.“Everything was great. At first.” She scrubbed her hands up and down her arms, then pointed at the fireplace. “Think you could build a fire? The rain made it cold in here.”

“Aye.” Grant rose and with the punch of a button on a remote, gas logs roared to life in the stone hearth.

A snorting laugh escaped Joanna. “That’s efficient.”

Grant frowned down at the fire as though it didn’t quite measure up to his expectations. “I suppose.” He looked back at Joanna. “What happened after ‘at first’? What made ye change yer mind about the man?”

“Odd blowups. Not mine. His. He’d completely lose it about the dumbest things. Towels on the bathroom floor. Unmade bed. With each passing day, his inner assitude made itself more and more apparent. Never physical, but his rants got more and more derogatory.” Joanna shifted uncomfortably, squirming against the stinging memories. “Then he didn’t show up for dinner one night. Left me stranded high and dry in a restaurant where the price of the meals cost about four of my car payments. This place was so fancy that the entrees and desserts had to be pre-ordered when the reservations were made and since he had me make the reservations, it was my credit card that held the golden spot.” Joanna walked closer to the fire, eyes locked on the mesmerizing orange flames. “I’d pre-ordered our meal so I had to pay for it whether we ate it or not. He didn’t call to say he couldn’t make it and didn’t call the next day or the day after that.” Joanna leaned against the warm stones of the hearth and took another long, slow drink of whisky. “At first I figured he’d had some sort of emergency—his being an OB-GYN and all. But as more days passed I got pissed. Royally.”

“Aye. I should think so.”

And now for the good part.Joanna downed the rest of the whisky, then held out her empty glass. “More.”

Without a word, Grant took her glass, refilled it, and handed it back to her.

“When the son of a bitch had the unbelievable balls to show up a week later at my apartment expecting me to go flat on my back with my legs spread in the air as though nothing had happened, I lost it. My redhead’s temper went into overdrive and I gave my inner demoness full control.” Joanna stared down into her glass, gently swirling the amber liquid in mesmerizing circles. “I bitched him out with both barrels and clipped the side of his head pretty hard with a ginormous mug of root beer and ice cream.”

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