Callum Read online

  “Were you looking for me?”

  She shook her head as confusion puckered her brow. “No. I came in to look for a trinket.”

  Someone stepped up behind her, and he finally grabbed a few brain cells and pulled the two of them inside, out of the doorway. It forced them closer, his chest brushing against her breasts, the scent of her invading his senses.

  “Trinket?”

  She nodded. “My mother’s birthday is coming up.”

  “Oh.”

  She trembled, brushing up against him again. Bloody hell, he wanted her. Her lips were wet, and she pulled the bottom one through her teeth. He wanted to taste her. That one thought dominated his mind, and he bent his head to satisfy his need.

  “Mr. Lennon, do you mind letting me go?”

  She whispered the request. Her voice had deepened, stroking his arousal. Dammit! He tightened his fingers, unwilling to comply. He craved her with an almost consuming passion that was embarrassing for a man his age.

  “Mr. Lennon?”

  When he realized her voice had gone sharp and several of the store’s patrons were staring at them, he jerked back and relinquished his hold. Drawing in a deep breath, he took a moment to compose himself before looking at her again. She wasn’t looking at him but rather straightening her clothes and her hair.

  “What did you say you were doing here?” he asked.

  Her head shot up, her eyes narrowing, and he realized accusation laced his tone.

  “Not that it is any business of yours, but as I told you, my mother’s birthday is approaching. I thought to shop for a trinket to send her.”

  Maybe…but wasn’t it just a bit odd that she ended up in the very shop he was in? Edinburgh wasn’t a massive city like London, but it wasn’t small. There were shops aplenty on the way to and from the library that sold the same kind of nonsense. Not that he had any idea what she would gain from following him.

  “Where’s Belvidore?”

  She took a step back from him, all warmth fading from her expression, and he hated it. Though it was for the best, the usual distance between them irritated him. He wanted to see her blush again, feel her body flush against his. Not a good idea.

  “I’ve no idea. He said he would retrieve me around two in the afternoon.” She glanced behind her as the store bell rang. “I did everything I could at the library, so I slipped in here to shop.”

  He continued to study her, trying to decide if she was telling the truth. The library was a good four blocks from the store. Still, his suspicion was a waste of time and stupid because she’d come in the shop instead of waiting outside. Phoebe Chilton wasn’t stupid.

  “I’ll leave you to it then.”

  He nodded as he stepped past her. He needed time to think, to get his head straightened out. She wasn’t there just to shop. She kept looking at every person who came into the shop as if searching for someone. Each time the bell jangled, she jumped, looking back over her shoulder to see who was coming in the door. With a shake of his head, he walked to the door, mulling reasons she would go so far out of her way to see someone. Was she meeting a reporter? He’d checked out her story about the altercation with the reporter, and it turned out to be true. But that still didn’t mean she wouldn’t sell information. Not that she’d had time to figure out the mystery of their family’s past, but there was always a chance she had contacted a reporter just the same.

  He reached the entrance and looked back to find her looking over a collection of music boxes. She opened one. The familiar tune played, and her face softened slightly, her eyes going misty. Lust curled in his belly and his cock hardened. Tightening his hand on the knob, he sucked in a deep breath and ordered himself to leave.

  The cold north wind blasted him the moment he stepped onto the sidewalk, but it did little to help his libido. The fact that it wasn’t mere lust worried him. If it had been, relieving himself with Calista would’ve been easy. Instead, he’d felt disgusted being in the bed with another woman, and now that he’d touched Phoebe, he wanted more. With each step away from the shop, the tension eased, but he was still edgy. Three blocks away, he slowed down.

  The woman was trouble. He glanced down. For the love of Christ, he couldn’t very well function walking around half-aroused most of the day. Normally he’d just find another woman, but he’d proven that to be useless today with Calista. Instead of relieved, he felt disgusted, and he was more agitated than he had been before. He hadn’t felt this compelled to take a particular woman since he’d been a youth.

  He turned down the street where he’d parked and narrowed his eyes as he recognized Kenneth McWalton. Bloody hell, this day was going downhill fast. Instead of avoiding Callum like he normally did, McWalton crossed the street, directly in his path. He didn’t have time to tangle with the pain in the arse.

  Laird McWalton looked much older than his thirty-five years. His skin was sallow, his hairline receding, and his general disposition was that of a jackass.

  “Hello, Callum. Hard at work, I see.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

  The Lennons had been despised by all of the McWalton lairds, but Kenneth had taken it to a new level. From the time he’d gained his position as head of the clan, Kenneth had been gunning for Callum.

  Kenneth was a bully. He’d been extreme in his hatred, taunting them all, stalking Callum. The threat of exposing their secret had surfaced more than once. He’d even made the mistake of picking fights with Callum, and one or two with Fletcher. At least Callum had had the honor of beating the wanker senseless.

  Part of it, Callum knew, was Kenneth’s ex-fiancée, Fiona. As McWalton’s attacks escalated, Callum and his cousins had no problems or worries about being hurt, at least fatally. But fending off McWalton and his batch of idiots had gotten to be more trouble than it was worth. Fiona’s seduction had been easy, easier than most. She’d been beautiful and cold, and he hadn’t regretted that one night—ever. The woman had as many scruples as a politician, a taste for pain, and a soul as black as coal. The one thing that chapped Callum was that he’d probably done Kenneth a favor of ridding him of the damned shrew.

  “McWalton.” He nodded, not wanting to say more than was necessary. He was still agitated from the run-in with Phoebe, and while he wouldn’t like anything better than to beat the bloody hell out of Kenneth, he really didn’t want to draw attention to himself or his feud with the man.

  “Taking a day of leisure? Oh, sorry. I know that it’s hard not to have anything other than a house.” His beady black eyes danced with mirth.

  “Get it said, McWalton. I’ve things to do more important than standing on the street with you.”

  “I just wondered how everything was at Lennon Manor?”

  None of them called it that, but McWalton always did. And, always in that sneering tone.

  “Fine.”

  “You know what astonishes me? That you can walk around without a care in the world, as if you and all of your family shouldn’t be damned to hell for what you did.”

  Callum said nothing, just stared. Anger bristled, and the need to hit Kenneth almost overwhelmed him. Several people had slowed down to watch, and Callum didn’t want to fuck with the damned police.

  “Nothing to say?” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers and rocked back on his heels. “How do you celebrate it?”

  “Celebrate what?”

  “The day your grandfather sold his best friend to the highest bidder.”

  Rage surged, twisting through his blood. With nothing but breaking the wanker’s nose on his mind, Callum stepped forward. He’d broken it twice before, and it had been damned gratifying.

  A satisfied smile curved McWalton’s lips. “Nothing changes, does it? Your family always attacks before thinking, always hurts anyone in your way. My grandfather learned that the hard way.”

  “Your dear old granddad was a flaming bastard.”

  “He was an honorable man who was killed in cold blood.”

  “Your grandfat
her was a sadistic fuck who liked to hurt women. His death wasn’t mourned by a damned person outside your family.”

  “Someone should pay for his murder.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Really? I heard that not even the highest ranks of the police force gave a fuck.”

  Fury mottled McWalton’s face. “Not one person could prove the allegations. All the Lennon women are the same—liars and sluts. Your cousin is no different. She’s spread her legs for more men than a common whore.”

  Callum didn’t think then. Fury clouded every thought as he stepped forward, grabbed McWalton by the collar, and shoved him up against the brick building behind him.

  “I’d think twice about disparaging my cousin, McWalton. You attack one Lennon, you attack us all. Your grandfather learned that lesson well.”

  Any color McWalton had in his face drained, his eyes bugging out. Callum lifted him off the ground. It would be so easy. Just a little pressure to his neck and the bastard would be dead. He deserved to die, for past actions and those he was contemplating. Callum’s fingers twitched with the need to complete the deed.

  “Is there a problem here, gentlemen?”

  Callum looked back over his shoulder, ready to tell whoever it was to bugger off, until he realized a local policeman stood less than five feet away from them. Damn. It took every bit of his control, but he pulled himself back and released McWalton. He slid down the wall, almost falling on his arse, but caught himself. With a smile plastered on his face, Callum turned to the constable.

  “No problem here, officer. Just a little disagreement on the last football match.”

  The young officer studied him for a moment, and then his attention turned to McWalton.

  “Is that correct, Laird?”

  Bloody hell. He didn’t need this complication. Callum didn’t turn to face him. Fury and fear twisted his gut. One little altercation and they would be found out. If he were arrested, the others would have to flee—they would have no choice. It would be the first time they were truly separated in years.

  Callum waited, his worry and agitation rising with each second that ticked by. He was damned sure the wanker would turn him in to the police.

  “Yes, officer. Pretty heated discussion, to say the least.” Forced levity and his hoarse voice belied his agreement, but the officer said nothing more.

  Callum showed no surprise when McWalton agreed with him, but a sliver of unease slid down his spine. McWalton would normally have Callum hauled in, but he acted as if he didn’t want to cause a scene. It was completely out of character for Kenneth—which meant he was up to something else.

  “Would you like to press charges?”

  There was a beat of silence, and then Kenneth said, “No. Just need a moment for cooler heads to prevail.”

  The officer looked at Callum again, his gaze measuring his size and strength, he was sure. The young man probably knew Callum could have killed McWalton easily.

  “If you’re sure, Laird.” With a nod, the constable ambled away, but stopped just down the street to watch them. Smart lad. If Callum had a moment alone with McWalton, there was a good chance he’d kill him for what he’d said about Anice.

  “You’ll lose one of these days, Callum. You’ll suffer. The best part about it is that I’ll be there to witness it.”

  Without turning around, Callum said, “Stay away from my cousins.”

  He started back to his car, trying to clear the bloodlust from his veins. It was worse this time than last, but then he’d never disparaged Anice, and that was one thing Callum couldn’t allow. Halfway down the block, he stopped. The glee in McWalton’s voice when he said they would suffer wasn’t anything new, but there was a new thread of confidence to it.

  Callum stopped and looked back over his shoulder and watched as McWalton walked around the corner and out of his sight. McWalton didn’t come to Edinburgh on a regular basis, living in the crumbling McWalton home in the Highlands outside of Inverness. Money was tight for Clan McWalton and had been for centuries. Years of bad investments and infighting had drained their resources. Coming to the city cost money they didn’t have. Only the most important things would draw Kenneth to the city, for monetary and personal reasons. He hated the city and avoided it as much as possible, especially since his broken engagement.

  So what the hell was he doing here?

  * * * *

  “Kenneth McWalton is in Edinburgh.”

  The announcement brought expressions of irritation to disinterest from Callum’s cousins. He was seated at his desk. Angus and Anice both sat in the chairs in front of his desk while Logan stretched out on the leather couch, and Fletcher sat at Phoebe’s desk.

  “How do you know?” Logan asked.

  “Ran into him on the street. Had a slight altercation.”

  “How slight?” Angus asked.

  Callum grimaced. He didn’t regret scaring the piss out of the wanker, but he didn’t like making a scene.

  “A constable interfered.”

  “Bloody hell, Callum,” Angus bellowed. “What happened?”

  “We had a few words. He threatened me, as usual.” He shrugged. “I lost my temper.”

  “Are we going to need to issue a press release?” This came from Anice, who handled their PR. Her blue gaze was a mixture of irritation and worry.

  “No. McWalton let it go. But I can’t help worrying he’s up to something.”

  Angus snorted. “Of course he is. He always is.”

  Anice brushed one of her long, black locks over her shoulder and frowned at Callum. “Did you have to cause a problem? Couldn’t you have avoided him?”

  Callum shook his head. “You know Kenny-boy. The bastard wouldn’t allow for that. Now, the question is, what is he up to? And does it have anything to do with our good doctor?”

  Angus frowned while all the others remained silent. “I doubt they know each other, and seriously, how would he know about the diary?”

  “If anything, it bears investigation,” Fletcher remarked, hopping up from the desk. “I’ll get someone to tail him while he’s here.”

  “Good. I have a conference call in a few minutes, but let me know what you have.”

  “Do you think I should check the local news, make sure nothing was caught?” Anice asked.

  “I don’t think you need to contact them, but keep your ear to the ground. I don’t want to call any attention to it if we don’t need to. I’m still a bit amazed that he didn’t have me arrested. He still has clout in Edinburgh. It wouldn’t have done much but irritate me, but that would have amused Kenneth.”

  Anice rose to do his bidding, and he looked at Angus who said, “Logan, do you mind giving Callum and I a few minutes alone?”

  Logan glanced first at Callum and waited until he nodded. Within moments, they were alone.

  “Give over. What the hell did he do?”

  Callum rose from his chair, the restlessness plaguing him again. It was no wonder. The altercation had just intensified his need to let loose physically. He should have stayed at Calista’s. It was a mistake to leave without shagging her.

  “He made some insinuations about Anice.”

  “That son of a bitch.” Anger vibrated in his voice. When he looked back over his shoulder, the expression on Angus’s face could only be described as murderous. “I wish I’d been there.”

  Callum chuckled. “Anice would be issuing a press release on how the CEO and the Director of Technology from Lennon Enterprises were arrested for assault. She wouldn’t be happy with us.”

  Angus offered him a slight smile before it dissolved into a serious expression. “You don’t think he has anything to do with Phoebe, do you?”

  The anxiety he heard in his cousin’s voice bothered him. He was afraid there was more to it than worrying about the diary. He didn’t particularly like the idea that his cousin might have fallen for their researcher.

  “I’m not sure. But with both of them in Edinburgh on the same day, we need to make sure th
ere is no connection.”

  Grimness settled over Angus’s features. “I don’t think she has anything to do with McWalton. Just how would she have met him?”

  Callum hated this, hated being the one to fight this battle. His cousins were his only kin. Angus and he were close, closer than he was with the others. But Callum couldn’t allow him to fall under Phoebe’s spell. If she was up to something and was tied to McWalton, she had no scruples. She would use Angus to get what she wanted.

  “Phoebe was in Edinburgh shopping.”

  “She told us she was going to be there. Hell, you had Belvidore take her.”

  With resignation, he dropped back in his chair. “She said she was going to the library. Then I find her blocks away in a store.”

  Angus stuck out his chin. Callum knew that expression. It meant that Angus had sunk his teeth into the position and was going to fight. “That means nothing. You’ve been suspicious of her from the start, and now you’re coming up with excuses. You act as if you don’t want to succeed.”

  Callum kept his expression as stoic as possible. He didn’t want to do this, push Angus to see the truth, but he didn’t have a choice. He could be a weak link.

  “She lied—or wasn’t completely truthful,” he added when Angus opened his mouth to argue. Angry with the situation and Angus’s accusation, his tone lowered, viciously so. “How many shops are there in Edinburgh? And she happens to be in the one that is in the direction McWalton was walking? Do you believe in coincidences? I don’t. It might be innocent. But can we take that chance?”

  Irritation passed over Angus’s features, his eyes darkening with anger. “I know—”

  “You know nothing. She’s a woman you’re smitten with. Something isna right, something you don’t want to see. You’re not thinking with the right head.”

  “Callum—”

  “Enough.” He fairly yelled. Resentment burned in his gut, and it was all this woman’s fault. “If I’m wrong, then you can rub my face in it.”

  Angus stared at him, the silence almost deafening. Without another word, he stood, tossed another searing look over his shoulder, and he left Callum alone.