Page 5 of Joanna's Highlander (Highland Protector 2)

I freakin’ give up.Joanna bent and made a quick sweeping glance under the table, struggling against the wicked urge to give Grant’s spread-eagled position a closer look. Big hands. Big feet. What could one little glance hurt to see if the rest of the packagesizedup?Oh my…

A hot ripple of appreciativedammitmade Joanna swallow hard. She stood bolt upright and quickly shook her head. “Uhm…nope. All I saw was a napkin. I’ll tell the cashier and they can watch for it. If it’s here, I’m sure they’ll find it tonight while cleaning up and we can stop by tomorrow and pick it up.”We so need to get out of here.

“No.” Georgetta shook her head emphatically. “Violet won’t rest if she doesn’t have it. It’s right over there. Here—I’ll point it out to you.”

Too late, Joanna discovered she was no match for Georgetta Millsap’s well-aimed hip. A solid bump to the back of her legs and a firm shove to the small of her back sent her diving forward—not under the table but straight into Grant’s lap.

Her C-cup girls thumped hard against Grant’s muscular chest, then her forehead popped his with a stinging smack. Nose to nose, her elbows on either side of his head, Joanna struggled to catch her breath and blink away the stars muddling her vision.Straddling one of his legs, Joanna floundered to get away.Son of a bitch, this is so not going well!I’ll lose that damn contract for sure.

Grant clamped both hands around her waist and lifted her into the air with a jerk that immediately halted her struggling. “Have a care, lass. Yer about to unman me with yer knees.”

“S-sorry,” Joanna said just as her hands slipped off the slick vinyl back of his chair and she buried his face almost ear-deep into the V-neck of her shirt, which was currently stretched so low from its pinned state under Grant’s hands that the lace of her red bra framed his cheeks nicely.

“Sh-h-it!” Joanna panic-rolled to the right, tangled both feet around Grant’s booted foot, then hit the floor. Hard. Inside, she was screaming,I’m going to kill those old ladies!Out loud, amazing even herself with her calm, authoritative tone, she pointed toward the front of the café. “Hazel! Get everyone on the bus. Now.”

Strong hands gripped her shoulders, lifted her up from the floor, and steadied her to her feet. “Are ye all right then? Ye landed with quite the jar.”

Damn him. He would act like a gentleman.And that get-me-naked Scottish burr is gonna be the end of my self-control yet.She pulled in a deep, calming breath, praying that she was the only one who could hear her heart pounding.Double damn him. He smells so good—as usual.I’ve gotta get the hell out of here.

Joanna swallowed hard, forced a smile, and took a step back as she jerked her clothes back in place. “I’m fine. Thank you. Just fine.”

Grant gallantly dipped his chin with the hint of a smile that said he knew acknowledging her answer any other way might befuddle her even further. Glancing down, his brows suddenly drew together and he pointed to the floor. “Is this what yer seeking, lass?” Grant bent and retrieved a bright purple, rhinestone-studded glasses case from under his chair.

When in the ever-loving hell had those conniving old women planted that under the MacDaras’ table? Joanna knew damn good and well that Violet couldn’t have tossed her case that far from where she was sitting on the other side of their table. No way could she have managed a move like that without being noticed.

Joanna took the case from Grant and snapped open the lid. Sure enough, embroidered in the silk lining were the lettersV. W.Violet Woodard. Joanna snapped the lid shut and glared through the wall of café windows at the sleek black tour bus waiting outside. The bus’s windows were tinted, so she couldn’t see its interior, but it was a safe bet that there were seven old noses pressed to the panes trying to see how their little plan was playing out.If Lucia ever takes on another group of geriatric gangsters, I’ll kill her.

Joanna gave Grant her politest smile and a most apologetic shrug. They didn’t need this crap getting reported to the MacDaras’ lawyer or Alec. Grant had always been the friendliest of flirts and had never acted like he’d get his kilt in a wad over the tour groups as quickly as his older brother did—but they couldn’t afford to take any chances. The MacDaras stuck together on all things business. The entire town of Brady knew that. She bobbed her head and seriously considered attempting an old-fashioned curtsy to complement the weird archaic way Grant always talked. “Thank you—for all your help,” she finally said, abandoning the curtsy idea. She’d probably end up on her ass again anyway.

She scooped her shoulder bag off the chair and shoved the case into it. “Again, sorry we interrupted your evening.” She blew out a weary sigh. “I swear I’ll do my best to make them behave during the rest of their stay here.”I think shock collars are the only thing that might work, and Georgetta will probably rewire those and trash them in minutes.

“Dinna fash yerself, lass. I’m sure ye didna—” Grant shifted a step forward as he spoke, effectively snagging her and setting the hook with those damn blue eyes of his.

“Ye didna ruin his evenin’,” interrupted Ramsay with a sly wink and a raised glass.

“Aye,” Ross chimed in, raising his half-full mug too and clinking it to his brother’s. “We all ken how the two a ye have been a-sparkin’ after one another for o’er a year now. ’Tis about time ye both quit fannin’ such wee troublesome flames and set to tendin’ a full-blown fire.”

Ramsay cleared his throat and lifted his glass higher. “Here’s to the sly battle-plannin’ of old hens! May our brother be thankful for the flock ofcailleachshelpin’ him secure his match and settin’ him on the path to a proper wooin’.”

I’ve gotta get out of here.With her pride and her ass still stinging, Joanna ignored Ramsay and Ross’s toast and started backing toward the door. “Well…again…I’m sorry we disrupted your evening. I’ll be off now to get thosehenstucked into the coop. Have a good night.”

Then she turned and ran.

Chapter 2

Grant stood there, clenching his fists so tightly his knuckles popped one by one.What the hell should I ha’ said t’put the lass at ease?The café door banged shut, the jingling wad of tiny bells wired to the top of the door announcing Joanna’s departure as if he couldna see it with his own eyes.Hell’s hounds and damnation!The woman had nearly leaped over the tables to get away from him.

“Are ye no’ goin’ after her, then, brother?”

Grant slowly turned, his frustration ratcheting up another notch closer to full-blown rage. He glared at Ramsay. “Are ye completely daft?” He jabbed a finger toward the wide picture window facing the parking lot. The tour bus roared past, leaving a cloud of dust and slinging gravel in its wake. “Did ye no’ just see the woman run scairt as though we were about to attack her?”

“I’ve heard tell that some women like t’be chased,” Ross observed in a smug tone, then finished off the last of the beer pooled in his mug.

“I’ve a good mind t’kill ye both, ye little bastards.” Why the hell had he been fool enough to bring along Ramsay and Ross? Those two bampots couldna understand why—why after a feckin’ year and a half—he’d no’ taken the proper action to make Joanna Martin his own. The wee fools had obviously forgotten all that had happened so long ago. But Grant hadna forgotten. His painful memories were fresh as yesterday.

He shook away the urge to grab his brothers up by the scruffs of their necks and thunk their heads together. He shouldha kent they’d be nothin’ but trouble tonight. That’s all this century was good for, the one certainty of this time: trouble. Complicated ways that did nothin’ but confuse the hell out of a man.Damn them both.His two brothers would ne’er understand and Grant knew why. The young ones had adapted to this goddess-forsaken time a far sight better than he or Alec had because they didna have as much of their manhood invested in the past.

Grant blew out a groaning huff as he watched the bus careen down to the town’s only stoplight and come to a screeching halt as the light turned red. His time of stolen peace was over, the bit of peace he’d managed to find by spending as much time as he could with Joanna as she worked with the herds of annoying tourists she brought to the park each week. The woman’s patience amazed him. Would that he possessed such. If he had a bit more patience,Máthairwouldna constantly be chanting at him,“Use yer words, son. Dinna greet and growl like a wounded bear.”

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