Callum Read online

  Phoebe started at the sound of Belvidore’s imposing voice. She turned to face the dour butler and found him less than five feet away from her. The man had the feet of a cat.

  “I was just admiring the sword again. Do you have any idea what the story is behind it?”

  He shook his head, his frown growing fiercer by the moment. He said nothing. His blank expression gave nothing away. Nervous with her previous thoughts and her need to contact McWalton, she just wanted to get away to her room.

  “Yes, well, I’m heading up to my room.”

  He blinked and then nodded.

  She turned on her heel and hurried up the stairs. She didn’t stop until she shut the door behind her. The need to investigate, to read up on the Bruce and what kind of weapons he used, almost overwhelmed her better judgment. But she had to keep her cool, had to act as if it had just been another day at work.

  Glancing at the clock, she realized she had about fifteen minutes until dinner would start. If she didn’t show up, Angus would probably grow suspicious. She’d get through dinner then call McWalton.

  * * * *

  Silence descended the library after Angus related what had happened earlier that day. Callum looked at Logan and Fletcher, who had both sprawled out on the couch, and Anice, who sat at attention in the chair opposite of his. Angus paced around the room. He’d insisted that all five of them meet to discuss it. At first Callum had been reluctant, since he was in desperate need of another cold shower or a date with his fist, but Angus had been determined, and Callum had given up the fight.

  “It specifically mentioned the Bruce?” Callum asked.

  Angus nodded. “Yes, and five was very odd. Phoebe told me she’d seen nothing else to refer to it.”

  “What did it exactly say?” Anice asked.

  “In which the five may return, five stones for the weapon of the first Bruce.”

  Anice looked from Angus to Callum, curiosity and excitement filling her sapphire eyes. “That could mean us.”

  Even though Callum felt the first stirrings of his own anticipation, he ignored it. It was an odd passage, the reference to five…but he had to keep his head level.

  “It could mean us, but we can’t be sure.” And he wondered what Phoebe thought about it. She wasn’t a stupid woman, and she would know for certain that it was of importance. “But it wouldn’t hurt to do a little research on Robert the Bruce.”

  “Grandda always told us that sword in the hall was his,” Logan said.

  The mention of their grandsire soured Callum’s dinner. “He said a lot of things.” Logan opened his mouth but Callum held up his hand. “No. It could be. It is from the right century, but we need to look back through our own history, look it up. You do that tomorrow.”

  Logan nodded.

  “Is there a reason Angus was in the office with her and not you?” Fletcher asked.

  Callum looked at him and his seemingly calm, laidback expression and knew Fletcher was anything but. His cousin was good at picking up on emotions, and there had been enough tension between Callum and Phoebe at dinner for him to detect.

  “No.”

  He knew Fletcher wanted to ask him more, but Logan interrupted. “I think we need to do more than research our family history. There’s more to this than just the family and that sword.”

  “Until Phoebe deciphers more, there isn’t much we can do,” Angus said.

  As the other four started a spirited discussion on what could and could not be done, Callum’s mind slipped back to dinner. There had been tension between Phoebe and him. Sexual, yes, but Callum still felt badly about his lie the night before. He wouldn’t be able to ease the tension between them until he apologized. He truly didn’t want to spend time with her, but at the same time, he ached to be with her. He couldn’t leave her with Angus, as Callum knew his cousin was attracted to her. But without an apology or some sort or resolution, the atmosphere would never be workable. If he didn’t do that, he’d have to leave Angus to watch over her.

  Completely unacceptable.

  “I think—” Anice started, but Callum decided to end the discussion.

  “Everybody think about it tonight. We can discuss it again tomorrow to decide where else we might need to look.” He stood. “I’ve got some papers to look over, so I am off to my room.”

  Before he reached the doorway, Angus asked, “Do you need me to work in your office tomorrow?”

  Callum glanced over his shoulder. “No. I’ll be able to work in my office tomorrow.”

  “But—”

  “No. Thank you.”

  Angus hesitated then nodded, and Callum walked out the door and up the stairs to pay his penance for last night.

  * * * *

  “Yes, this is in direct reference to the Bruce,” Phoebe said. She inwardly sighed, regretting her decision to call McWalton before going to bed. She’d been excited about her discovery. And while she hadn’t told him anything else about the stones and the references to five, she knew mentioning the Bruce would gain any Scotsman’s attention.

  “Anything else?”

  She should be happy with his eagerness, but there was an edge to it, something that made her feel…cold and uneasy. It might be her own worries. She knew this had been the right decision for her, that she wouldn’t have been happy if she had passed up the opportunity. Maybe someday she wouldn’t feel sick to her stomach every time she called McWalton.

  Besides, the man was really starting to bother her. She knew there was something else he was after. It could be as simple as being the one board member who sponsored the winning entry. Still…she sighed. She was spinning worries out of nothing. She was still off kilter from dinner. The tension between them had almost made her scream just to break it. It was enough to make anyone a little crazy.

  “No, nothing else.” She hoped he didn’t detect the worry in her voice. Again, she was being deceitful. She was becoming a regular liar. “It’s late, and I want to get an early start again tomorrow.”

  “Please be sure to call me when you find anything else.”

  “Yes, I will Mr. McWalton.”

  After agreeing twice more, she rang off and collapsed on the bed. She’d already stripped out of her uncomfortable suit and slipped into her soft, comfy pajamas. All she wanted to do was lay back and pass out, but a knock sounded at the door. Her heart thudded to a stop then began racing. Cautiously, she set her mobile on her bedside table and rose to walk to the door. Before opening it, she drew in a deep breath, released it and then turned the knob.

  Her eyes widened when she saw Callum Lennon standing on the other side of the threshold, his lips turned down in a frown, his unpleasant expression raising goose bumps on her flesh.

  Had he heard her conversation with McWalton?

  “Mr. Lennon.” She was happy her voice didn’t waver.

  He acknowledged her with a nod then stepped into her room, forcing her to take a step back. He closed the door behind his back and then crossed his arms.

  “Dr. Chilton, I think we need to have a discussion.”

  Chapter Six

  Callum studied Phoebe. She was staring at him with those big green eyes, and the only thing he could think was that he wanted to touch her. To kiss her, to hear her moan his name.

  He shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge that thought. He had been wondering about it since the night before. No, before that.

  Why the bloody hell had he come up here in the first place? Inwardly, Callum cursed his decision to approach Phoebe in her room. He'd known it was a mistake as soon as the door clicked shut. He should have found some neutral ground, not in her room with the bed within ten feet. But since he'd met the woman, he hadn’t been thinking clearly. This decision was just another one in a long line of mistakes that could land him in hot water.

  Or heaven.

  No. He couldn’t even contemplate that.

  “Mr. Lennon.”

  He saw her mouth moving, but now that he had thought of the way sh
e would sound in bed, he couldn’t think of anything else. Bloody hell, did she have to look so soft and inviting? Instead of one of those horribly boxy suits, the flannel pajamas she wore hugged her curves, the light pink color bringing a glow to her skin. Her hair fell in tangled waves around her shoulders. Her face had been scrubbed clean of any makeup.

  She was frowning at him, concern darkening her eyes. Damn, she was looking at him as if he had lost his mind—and there was a bloody good chance he had—and he was still aroused.

  “Is there something you wanted?” she asked.

  You.

  He had to bite his tongue to keep from saying it. But it didn’t keep his body from imagining it. It wouldn’t take much to maneuver her to the bed, slip her out of her clothes and onto the mattress.

  Judiciously, he shifted his weight, attempting to get the bed out of his line of sight. It didn’t matter. Nothing would feel better than settling between her soft thighs, hearing her soft moans.

  He shook his head to clear the image and the sounds and realized that Phoebe was staring at him expectantly—and with even more concern. Jesus, the woman was looking at him as if he needed an intervention of some sort.

  He cleared his throat. “I wanted to discuss what happened.”

  Callum watched most of the color drain from Phoebe’s face. Uncrossing his arms, he stepped forward, worried she just might pass out. He understood she might be embarrassed, but this he hadn’t expected. Before he could do anything, she pulled in a deep breath and retreated a step.

  “Is there something you need?” she asked, not making eye contact. It was odd. Since the day he had met her, she’d always been brutally direct, but she seemed to avoid him now. It was no wonder with his behavior the night before, and more than anything in the world he wanted to sooth her pain. He didn’t have the right. Especially not now.

  “I wanted to apologize for last night.”

  With that her head shot up. Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  The chill in her voice could have frozen the devil himself. “I know that I behaved badly, and I wanted you to know that I would never step over that line again.”

  “Is that all?” she asked as she turned away from him. He didn’t like it, the way she spoke, the fact that she seemed to be dismissing him. They both needed distance, but he wanted to be the one who did it—not her.

  “I just wanted you to know that I regret what I did.”

  “Really?”

  Her voice was oddly neutral. With her back to him, he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

  “Yes. I should have never touched you and imposed on you. I know that you are an employee, and it was completely unprofessional of me.”

  She said nothing, the icy silence weaving tension in the air around him. Usually, he thrived on this atmosphere. It gave him something to use against his adversary. A weapon to twist his opponent’s will. He had the patience to wait the other person out, let them dangle. But this time it was different.

  Now, he itched from the inside out. The need to clear the air warred with the need to touch, soothe. Even though he understood it put him in a weaker position, he needed to speak his peace and get out. The longer he stayed, the better the chance that he would make a fool of himself.

  “I took advantage of the situation.” Still nothing. “You work for me and I put you in an irrevocable position. I embarrassed you. You had no way to disagree—”

  She turned around, her face flushed with anger, her eyes shooting venom. Settling her hands on her hips, she approached him. “I don’t need your pity.”

  It was his turn to back up a step. “I dinna say that I pitied you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I heard it there in your voice. So you used your skills on me to prove a point. Don’t pity me because a man like you would never have anything to do with me.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice rising. He was trying to follow her words, but the moment she had started ranting at him, he hadn’t been able to think. It didn't seem to matter what she was saying when she griped at him. Lord in heaven, there was something wrong with him if he was getting this aroused by a woman who was yelling at him like a fish wife.

  "I understand I have something lacking in my..." she made a motion to her body. She was making no sense at all to him.

  "I've no idea what you are talking about, still."

  "Then you are being deliberately obtuse. Do you mean to tell me that when you kissed me last night, you were attracted?"

  He couldn't help be continue to stare at her. "Did you think I was faking my arousal?"

  She glanced away, apparently embarrassed by the subject. The blush that tinged her delicate skin deepened the mystery around her. She'd been married, but she acted like a virgin. It was an oddly attractive combination.

  "Well, of course. Most men when they...do get aroused, when they, you know."

  She was embarrassed, yes, but there was something else. Something that ate at him. But he couldn't allow her any purchase. Not when she had been kissing him like a temptress the night before.

  "No, I don't. Why don't you tell me?"

  Her gaze flew up to his. "Men don't take much to be aroused. But, it doesn't always mean they want that particular woman."

  He stared at her. She was smart…brilliant. The background check they had done had told him exactly how intelligent she was. Because of that, what she was saying was just absurd.

  “You really believe that I would kiss you like that, be that aroused, and it has nothing to do with you?”

  She glanced away. “I understand, and you don’t have to spend time trying to convince me otherwise.”

  "You have got to be the stupidest smart person I know.”

  Her spine straightened, and she crossed her arms beneath her breasts. It was then that he realized that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Holy mother of God. She wasn’t making this easy for him. Hell, he was always half-aroused whenever he was near her. Knowing she was standing there, and was so very close to naked, had his body reacting. His fingers itched to touch.

  "I do not have to take this. I understand only too well what was going on last night and your arousal wasn't...real."

  "Well, for your information, it was real, I was aroused, and dammit, I am now."

  She was a mixture of innocence and temptress, and it was eating him up. He strode toward her, his body humming with the need to take, to conquer, to touch.

  Her eyes widened as he approached, and she took a step back. Holding out her hand, she said, "No. Wait."

  "I've been waiting forever, lass. I’m no’ in the mood to wait anymore."

  He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her against him. Her gasp filled the air between them. She looked up at him and opened her mouth to say something, but he did the one thing he knew would shut her up. He bent his head and took her mouth in a hot, open-mouthed kiss.

  Just as the night before, he lost himself in her. She wasn't the most experienced of kissers, he could tell. She hesitated, as if unsure of what to do. As if she didn’t understand the concept of kissing. But after a little bit of resistance, she softened against him. The moment he felt her tongue slide against his, he groaned and slanted his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss. He slid his hands down her spine and to her ass. She pressed her body against him and slipped her hands up over his shoulders and then tangled them in his hair.

  He knew that it was bloody stupid to do this. But every bit of resistance dissolved the moment she moaned. The raw, needy sound sunk into his soul, pulling a long-lost primal instinct to the surface. Everything in him urged him to take, and take he did. He walked her back until they fell against the massive bed.

  Something was telling him to stop—probably his good sense. But he didn't. He couldn't. This need had been burning in his gut for days. It clawed at him night and day. She tasted just as she had the night before. Enticing, thrilling…alluring. Good God, passion exploded between them, and he
knew there was a good chance he might go up in flames before this was over.

  He pulled away enough to look down at her. She frowned and opened her eyes. The look almost had him laughing. Her lips were bruised, her face flush, and her hair a tangled mass against the comforter of the bed.

  She looked like a disgruntled angel who had just been denied a treat.

  He gave her a quick kiss, the pulled back, and she was still frowning.

  "Don't tell me you're going to stop again."

  She sounded ready to challenge him to a duel if she thought he would walk away.

  "Not on your life, lass."

  She smiled as he slipped his fingers under the edge of her pajama top and pulled it up and over her head. She gasped again, and he could see that she was moving to cover her breasts.

  He grabbed her hands and held her still.

  “Holy Mother in Heaven.” He muttered the words as he released her arm and skimmed the back of his knuckles over the delicate skin. It was so pale. He could see her veins beneath the surface. Her breasts were full, bottom heavy, and tipped with the most beautiful pink nipples. Her flesh was so pure she looked like she was made of fine porcelain. She shivered against his touch. Without a word, he bent his head and took a nipple into his mouth. Immediately she responded. Her moan was long and loud. He would have smiled if it hadn't affected him so much. The sound ratcheted up his arousal one more notch and made his cock unbelievably hard. At this rate, he might not make it to completion. Hell, he wanted her so bad, he was afraid he might not be able to get his pants off before he embarrassed himself.

  Even so, he took his time, teasing first one nipple, then another. Just like the woman, they responded immediately, tightening into small little buds. He slid down her body, kissing and nipping at her skin as he went. She tasted of cinnamon and sin. How did a woman get her skin to be so scrumptious? He didn’t know. It had to be some kind of magic that had been concocted by a witch. It was as if she was some treat baked up just for him. At the moment, he didn't give a damn. As he reached her tummy, he slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her pajama bottoms and tugged them down along with her panties. He didn't hesitate. He continued kissing her, moving down to her sex, enjoying the way her entire body shivered the closer he got. He kissed his way down, teasing her, nipping at the delicate skin of her thighs. Never in all his life had he had a woman so perfectly put together as she was. Not skin and bones like so many of the women he knew today. No, this woman was generous curves and silky skin. Anticipation rushed through him but he tried to fight it. He wanted her, wanted nothing else then to feel the tight, hot clasp of her body