Hot Blooded, page 5
The decision had come in the long hours of the night as she stayed awake looking at the ceiling. After all that she learned about her father, she couldn’t leave yet. It wasn’t because she couldn’t sell the land. It was because she needed the time at the cottage to reconcile who her father really was.
Iona sent off a quick text to Abby, her contact with the Commune, declining the next assignment. Iona had never refused a project, but it seemed the right thing to do. She wasn’t even sure if anyone declined the Commune. It wasn’t like she or any of the other employees spoke to each other. She knew of some, but for all she knew, her refusal could mean she was fired.
That made her grimace, but it wasn’t like it would be the first time. She always managed to land on her feet no matter what life threw at her. Oh, she might stumble a bit, but she refused to fall. She would survive whatever came next.
Iona looked down at her teacup, noting that it was no longer warm in her hand. She sat back with a sigh. She probably should call her mum and tell her about John. Every time Iona thought of talking to her mother she got heartburn. Her mother was as high maintenance as they came.
On her fifth husband, Sarah was in Morocco. The marriage wasn’t even two years old, and already her mother was talking divorce. The one thing her mother never did was work—at anything. Whether it was a job or relationships, the moment things began to get difficult or demanding, she was gone.
Perhaps that’s why Iona worked twice as hard at everything. Iona had known the truth about Sarah for a long time. However, Iona always assumed her parents’ marriage crumbled because of her father not handling their money correctly and leaving them poor, as her mother had always claimed.
Iona looked around the cottage. There wasn’t extravagance, but everything was nice and clean. And neat. Obsessively neat—just as she was.
Her mother? Just the opposite. Iona learned to do laundry at the age of nine because she’d had no clean clothes and Sarah didn’t know how to work the washer. The cleaning then fell to Iona soon after, as did the cooking, shopping, and bill paying.
Iona felt that her mother had needed taking care of because she was so distraught over the divorce and loss of her beloved husband who had wronged her.
Was it all a lie? Had Sarah fabricated everything?
She refused to think about that as she rose from the table and changed out of her PJs into jeans, a tee, and hiking boots. After running a brush through her hair, she quickly wound a ponytail holder around her hair into a bun.
A brush of her teeth, and she was walking out the door with her camera bag over her shoulder. Iona didn’t get far before she took out her camera. The sight of a squirrel sitting on a limb as he ate a nut caused her to smile. He looked at her, cocking his head to the side. Iona snapped a couple of quick photos before he scampered up the tree and disappeared.
The sky was filled with thick, puffy clouds that rolled lazily across the summer sky. Being out in the forest eased the knot of stress between her shoulder blades.
It was several hours later after wandering all over that she heard the waterfall. Iona quickened her footsteps, anxious to see the water. She burst through the trees as the roaring grew louder.
She came to a sudden stop, struck by the beauty. She had forgotten the waterfall, had forgotten that it was a place she and her father would go to alone. The beauty of the water cascading down the rocks before filling a small pool and then drifting down into the stream was breathtaking.
Had she hated her father so much that she blocked out the memories of their times at the waterfall? The picnics, the laughter?
The small pool was where he taught her to swim. The stream had been a place of endless hours of fishing. The waterfall had been a source of fantastic tales involving dragons and magic.
Iona sat down and simply stared at the waterfall. She had no idea how long she remained that way before she shook herself out of her memories. She brought the camera to her eye, and then lowered it.
It took two more tries before she was able to take any pictures.
* * *
The buzz of his mobile vibrating on the desk pulled his attention from an e-mail he was reading. He glanced down at the row of mobiles until he saw the one lighting up as it announced a call.
He accepted the call and said, “Yes?”
“She’s in the woods, sire,” came the reply in a whisper.
Just as he had known Iona would be. “Do you have eyes on her?”
“Aye, sir,” came the Australian reply.
He drummed his fingers on the desk. “Keep watching her. I want to know everyone she speaks with. I’m certain Con will make a move soon. Where all has she been?”
“To the church, lawyer’s office, and the pub.”
He smiled. “The pub. She’s making this too easy.”
“The word about town is that Campbell’s death is still an accident.”
He sat forward in his chair and gripped the phone tighter. “You might be ex-military, but you’re dealing with people you can no’ even begin to understand.” Anger surged through him as he let his brogue slip through. It always happened when he grew irate. “Dreagan will be on guard. They’ll be looking for anyone and anything out of the ordinary. I’ve prevented them from seeing you, but if they get wind that you’re out there, nothing will stop them from finding you.”
There was a beat of silence before the mercenary cleared his throat. “They won’t have reason to find me.”
“And you’re remaining close to Iona?”
“Of course.”
“Keep it that way,” he stated. “I’ll be waiting on your next call.”
He ended the conversation and set the mobile back in place. It hadn’t taken Iona long to go to the pub. She was a pretty enough human that she would most likely gain a Dragon King’s interest.
Now that she would be remaining in Scotland a bit longer, it would give whichever Dragon King time enough to seduce her.
That’s when he would make his move.
“So predictable, Con,” he said smugly.
* * *
The granola bar Iona ate was long gone by the time she returned to the cottage at noon. Her stomach rumbled with hunger as she entered the house. After setting her camera bag down, she opened a bag of chips and popped one in her mouth while throwing together another sandwich.
It was only her second one, and she was already getting tired of eating them. Except there was little else in the cupboards. If she wanted to cook, she was going to have to go into town.
Then she thought of the pub, of Laith. Now him she didn’t mind seeing. He was easy on the eyes, had a devilishly sexy smile, and a body that she yearned to photograph. Naked. She knew just by looking at the way his clothes fit that he had a body that would make her mouth water.
Iona paused, the sandwich lifted halfway to her mouth. She could go into town and grab a few things, then eat a late dinner at the pub. Perhaps Laith would be there.
A thread of excitement ran through her. It had been a long, long time since a man caught her interest as Laith did. Not that she wanted anything more than a few days in his arms.
Her mother ruined her for any sort of relationship. Iona only saw the failures each time her mother tried to find love, proving to Iona that there wasn’t such a thing as love. It was also why she didn’t get involved with anyone for more than a night or two. Anything longer allowed the men to think there could be more.
“Never going to happen,” she mumbled before taking a bite of her sandwich.
Iona didn’t just keep her distance from men, but people in general. She knew a lot of people, but no one she considered a friend. It was better that way, because then no one could let her down. More importantly, it made her rely only on herself. That way she was never disappointed in thinking someone would do what they said they would—because most people didn’t.
People made promises as easily as wishes, and thought nothing of forgetting or breaking a promise.
Life was a hard lesson, but she learned much while still a teenager watching one man after another rotate out of her mother’s life like a revolving door.
Iona finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen. Then she went into her bedroom and took a look at her clothes. She wanted to dress a little nicer than what she had worn so far, but she had nothing.
She flopped down on the bed and looked at her clothes—hiking pants, solid color tees, rain jacket, and two pairs of jeans—with a frown. Was that really all she had? Had she been so involved with work that she hadn’t bought anything nicer?
There wasn’t any place in town for her to get more clothes, nor would she have room to pack them. She had so few items because they fit in the backpack easily. Not to mention she would have no other cause to wear them once she returned to work.
Iona pulled out her second pair of jeans and her best shirt, a black tee. It was going to have to do. Besides, it might be better since she might like the way Laith looked and spoke, but her interest was too deep already. That should put the brakes on anything she might think about.
Kicking off her boots, she removed her clothes and tossed them next to the washer before she headed into the bathroom for a shower. Twenty minutes later she shut off the blow dryer and dressed. She double-checked the back door to ensure it was locked before walking out the front and locking it.
It was a nicely laid out plan that went to shite as soon as she pulled up in front of the co-op and got out of her car. The priest from the church walked up and asked if she was all right. It took ten minutes to assure him that she was fine. Then she walked into the store and was stopped five different times by the owner and shoppers.
All Iona wanted to do was get a few items. What should have been a quick errand was turning into an event. It was everything she could do not to just walk away from them all. She carried her basket, filled to the brim, to the counter and checked out without another incident. A glance at her watch showed it had taken almost an hour.
Iona was carrying her purchases to her car when someone called her name. She looked to find Thomas MacBane, her father’s attorney.
“Hello,” he said with a smile as he walked up. “I was going to call you tomorrow and let you know the bank is ready for you to come in so they can sign over John’s accounts.”
She nodded woodenly. “Right. I can get there sometime tomorrow.”
“Would you like me to come with you?”
Iona stilled and tried not to read anything into his question, but there was no doubt he was asking for much more than to accompany her by the look in his eyes. “I appreciate that, Thomas, but I think I can handle it.”
“There will be taxes that need to be paid as well on the inheritance.”
She adjusted her bags in her hand and forced a smile. “And you have the paperwork needed?” she guessed.
He beamed. “I do. We can go over it tomorrow and get that out of the way.”
“Sure,” she said. The sooner she finished her dealings with Thomas the quicker she could distance herself from him.
“Perhaps we could have lunch?” he offered.
“Hey, Iona,” Sammi said with a bright smile as she walked to them. “I was hoping I’d run into you.”
Iona could have kissed Sammi she was so happy to see her. “Hey there.”
Thomas looked from Sammi to Iona. “So what do you say, Iona?”
Iona hesitated, and Sammi quickly said, “Oh, Thomas, I’m sorry. Iona and I have lunch plans tomorrow.”
“That’s too bad,” he said, his face downcast. “Another time then.”
Iona waited until he was out of earshot before she looked at Sammi and said, “I owe you big time.”
“Come to the pub and grab a bite with me and we can talk about that,” she said with a wink.
Iona wondered if the excitement coursing through her was because she wasn’t going to eat alone, or if it was all at the prospect of seeing Laith again.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Sammi grabbed a booth in the back corner and slid into the seat with a smile. Iona was slower to join her, though Sammi noted how Iona made a point of looking at the bar. The disappointment that showed wasn’t hidden fast enough for Sammi. She took note of the obvious interest Iona had in Laith. Even more intriguing was the way Laith was fascinated by Iona.
Sammi wasn’t into matchmaking. As a mate to a Dragon King, she knew the importance of their secrecy, but there was something about Iona she liked immensely.
It might be Iona’s aloofness or her reserved nature that reminded Sammi of herself before she came to Dreagan. At least Iona’s life wasn’t in danger—a first in a while for a woman who came to Dreagan.
“What?” Iona asked as she raised a brow at Sammi.
Sammi shrugged. “What do you mean?”
“It’s the way you’re looking at me. You’re deep in thought, and I’ve a suspicion it’s about me.”
Sammi smiled wide and motioned to Glen at the bar for drinks. “You’re good. I’ll give you that.”
“Are you going to tell me what you were thinking?”
Sammi waited until Glen set the ales in front of them and walked away. “I was just thinking how you remind me of myself before I came here.”
“How’s that?” Iona asked before taking a drink of ale.
“I owned a pub near Oban.”
Iona’s brows rose. “Really? Why did you leave?”
“My business partner laundered the Mob’s money through my pub. I didn’t know about it until he began skimming money from them.”
“That’s something you hear in the movies, not real life.”
Sammi’s lips twisted. “I can attest to how very real it was. I was shot while trying to escape.”
“And you came here? Why here?”
“My half-sister.” Sammi smiled and played with the edge of the coaster. “Jane is married to Banan, who is part of Dreagan, and they took me in and sheltered me.”
“And you found Tristan.”
Sammi couldn’t think about her mate without her blood heating. “Yes.”
“I find it curious that you say Tristan and Banan are part of Dreagan instead of saying they work for Dreagan.”
Sammi looked into Iona’s dark eyes and realized Iona was much more observant than ordinary people. “That’s because they own part of Dreagan. They do work the land with the others, but Dreagan is them, and they are Dreagan.”
“I see,” Iona said softly and sat back.
“Would you like a tour of Dreagan?”
“You want to show me how beautiful it is, I suppose.”
Sammi shrugged and held her gaze. “Of course. Dreagan is beautiful. It’s also my home. However, I thought you might like a personal tour of the distillery.”
“Why?”
“I was being nice, Iona.”
“People aren’t nice unless they want something.”
Sammi snorted and shook her head. “You’re reading things into this that aren’t there. I’m extending a hand of friendship.”
“I don’t have friends.”
Iona said it so unemotionally that Sammi knew she was speaking the truth. “I see. That’s too bad.”
“That came out terribly rude. I apologize,” she said and grabbed one of the menus stacked against the back of the table. “Is the fish and chips any good here?”
“The best,” Sammi answered without missing a beat. If Iona wanted to change the subject, she would comply. The more she was with Iona, the more she learned about her.
Without a doubt, Con wanted Laith to get close to Iona, and it wouldn’t be difficult. But Sammi knew there were things a woman would only tell another woman, which was why she had taken it upon herself to befriend Iona. Though she hadn’t lied. She would have befriended her regardless.
Iona set aside the menu. “I think I’ll get that then.”
Sammi slid out of the booth and went to place the order herself in the kitchen. She was walking out when she heard Laith’s voice coming from the back office. He would leave as soon as he was finished placing the orders with his vendors, but she knew once he saw Iona he would stay.
Sammi walked back out to the pub and returned to the table. Iona’s ale was half gone and she was busy looking at all the photos along the walls.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been in Scotland,” Iona volunteered.
Sammi set down her glass after a long drink and asked, “How long exactly?”
“Twenty years.”
“That explains why you don’t have the Scottish brogue.”
Iona licked her lips. “I lost it pretty quick after two years in Kent, four in London, three in Paris, and then two in Spain.”
“You got to see a lot of the world while still young,” Sammi said, impressed.
“I got to see my mother go from one relationship after another.”
That one statement summed up Iona more than she realized.
“I didn’t know my father. He’s an American who had an affair with my mother, but chose another woman to marry. He lives in the States, and has for years. Jane is the one that found me. Before her, it was just me and my mum.”
“You were close?”
“Inseparable,” Sammi said, sadness weighing on her heart as it always did when she thought of her mother. “She died a few years back.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sammi lifted the glass, but stopped short of bringing it to her lips. “Are you close with your mum?” she asked and then drank.
Iona rolled her eyes. “Lord, no. She texts me about once a week, to let me know where she’s at. She likes men, and she likes money.”
“Relationships with our parents are never as cut-and-dry as we’d like to hope.”
Iona chuckled loudly. “No truer words have been spoken.”
Sammi was happy to see Iona smiling again. It was time to turn the conversation away from her mother, which was obviously a sore subject. “So how did you get involved with your photography?”
“I’ve been fascinated with cameras for as long as I can remember. I received my first one when I was seven. It was a Christmas present. I was never without it. When Mum and I left Scotland, I hid behind the camera much as other children did their favorite stuffed animal.”
