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“Good morning, Mrs. Bruce.” The driver rushed to open a car door for me.
“Good morning,” I returned, climbing into the backseat and buckling.
“Uisge ciùin, Mr. Bruce.”
“Uisge ciùin, Angus.”
I stiffened as Callen settled in beside me. Ugh. Close quarters with his delectable scent; exactly what I hadn’t needed.
Silence reigned as we rolled past the stone wall surrounding the property, now peppered with double the number of armed guards. Five minutes ticked by…then thirty…an hour. I spent the time ignoring seven calls from Isobel. When she decided to talk, she didn’t let up. Well, let her stew!
I was about to face Callen’s however-many-employees. What should I know? What if I said the wrong thing? Acted the wrong way? What would they think of my “fake” American accent?
When I could stand the suspense no longer, I blurted out, “Remind me if I’ve ever been to youroffice before.”
“You have not.” He worked his jaw. What he didn’t do? Fidget with his ring. “Why don’t I explain how this will go.” A statement, not a question. “You will touch nothing, showcase your best behavior at all times, and remain at my side unless otherwise commanded.”
Worry shed from me. No history with the employees and no forced interactions with others? Phew. As for his expectations, irritation spiked. “And if I touch something or make a mistake? What will you do?”
“There’s no reason to discuss if.” He adjusted a cuff link. “You’ll do what you’re told.”
Oh, that burned. Did I really want to press the issue with a berserker, though?
Well. Yeah. As a teacher, I utilized three failproof rules. Set boundaries from the start, beginning as you hoped to end. Plainly state consequences for bad behavior, and consistently follow through.
“Darling,” I said, using my sweetest tone. “With me there’s always a need for if.WhenI touch something I shouldn’t andwhenI make a mistake, what will you do?”
Tone low and casual, his accent thick, hinting at the seething emotions within, he said, “Donna spar with me, wife.”
“Will you erupt and lash out?” I arched a brow, mimicking him. “Am I to become a victim of your berserkerage?” Berserkerage was a word, right? If not, it should be.
Callen shifted to peer out a window. “You are’na new to life with a man like me. You spent eighteen years under your father’s care and months sneaking around with Roderick, whose temper surpassed mine. You know verra well what happens when we are provoked.”
No. No, I didn’t. I knew only what I’d read. Maddened. Unstoppable. Frenzied. I ignored the comment about hisbrother. There was no way to defend Isobel’s actions. Nor did I wish to try.
“Every man is different, even those who are the same,” I said. “Maybe you should explain things like I’m brand new to this. As if I’m actually an innocent bystander.” I leaned over and fiddled with his silver tie, proving my fake nonchalance was one hundred percent authentic. “You did promise to follow my lead, did you not? And this way, you can be assured there are no misunderstandings between us.”
A crackling pause. “All right,” he said with a slow nod. “I’ll explain it so a newcomer can understand.”
He reached over, unbuckled my seatbelt, and caught me by the waist, lifting me onto his lap. My breath lodged in my throat, and my gaze jerked up, colliding with his. Such intensity! Those baby blues glittered with something stronger than longing.
Why had he put me here? Why did I… like it?
“I am a grenade,” he stated, “and my pin has been pulled. At any moment, I could explode.” As he spoke, his attention snagged on my hair. He licked his lips. Then he shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “If that happens, there will be casualties. Your job, youronlyjob, is to keep me calm and hold off my detonation. You do this by obeying my commands. Understand now?”
My hackles buzzed. “That sounds made up to gain my cooperation.”
“It isn’t, I promise you.”His focus strayed to my hair again. Only for a moment. Okay, a moment more. Then another and another. What thoughts rolled through his head?
I shifted against him, edging closer to inhale more of his intoxicating scent. Would he act?
A minute passed. Then another. We stayed exactly as we were, balanced on a precarious ledge of something I didn’t wish to name.
Then, he moved. Reaching out, he sifted a lock of my hair between his fingers. Tingles spread over my scalp. An urge to cup his face and offer the comfort he sought struck me. A wild temptation I had no business entertaining, especially after what he’d just said. And yet…
Unable to resist, I glided my fingers across his jaw. His beard stubble tickled my skin, a caress that penetrated to the bone.
He hissed air between his teeth at the same time I did. I melted over him, but he released my hair and set me aside swifter than humanly possible. Whoa!
