Tall, Dark & Gorgeous: To Marry McKenzie

CHAPTER FIVE

‘SHE hates my guts!’ Logan informed Fergus, his cousin having arrived at his office a few minutes ago. Logan hadn’t returned from the restaurant very long ago himself.

Fergus stayed perfectly relaxed as he sat opposite Logan. ‘I see you handled the situation with your usual tact and diplomacy,’ he drawled mockingly.

Logan scowled as he remembered Darcy’s earlier fury. In truth, he hadn’t had a chance to be either tactful or diplomatic—how could he have been when Darcy had already been well aware of exactly who he was when she’d joined him for lunch?

He had thought he’d had time to tell her the truth himself, but it should have occurred to him that her father, or someone else, might just drop that little bit of information into a conversation before the two of them had met today! No wonder Darcy had seemed different when she’d arrived at the restaurant!

He glowered across at Fergus. ‘I didn’t get a chance to handle anything—her father must have already told her I was Margaret Fraser’s son!’

‘Poor Logan.’ Fergus grinned, shaking his head.

‘You don’t know the half of it,’ he retorted.

‘No—but I’m hoping you’ll tell me,’ his cousin returned expectantly.

Because Logan needed to talk to someone, because, for once, he wasn’t sure what to do next, where Darcy was concerned—or if, indeed, he should do anything!—he told Fergus exactly what had transpired at the restaurant earlier.

‘And then she kicked me!’ he concluded slightly incredulously several minutes later.

Incredulous—because he hadn’t really thought she would carry out her threat. One thing he had definitely learned from this third meeting with Darcy—never underestimate her!

Logan was so lost in thought that for a couple of minutes he didn’t even notice the twitching of Fergus’s mouth, his cousin’s Herculean effort not to actually laugh. A fight he finally lost, bursting into loud laughter. At Logan’s expense.

‘She really kicked you?’ Fergus sobered enough to choke out. ‘In the middle of the restaurant?’

‘Actually it was in the middle of my shin,’ Logan replied succinctly. ‘And, yes, she kicked me; I have the bruise to prove it!’ Once out of the restaurant, sitting alone in the back of the taxi, he had had a chance to look at his leg; a purple bruise was already forming there.

‘Can I have a lo—No, perhaps not,’ Fergus amended as he saw Logan’s mutinous look. ‘I think I like the sound of your Darcy,’ he murmured appreciatively.

‘She isn’t my Darcy,’ Logan rasped, not even sure she would ever talk to him ever again.

Which was a pity. He could still remember how good she had felt in his arms when he’d kissed her the evening before—

Forget it, Logan, he instructed himself sternly. There were too many complications attached to being attracted to Darcy Simon. Complications he intended dealing with at the earliest opportunity.

‘So what happens now?’ Fergus seemed to guess at least some of his thoughts.

Logan pondered awhile. ‘A meeting with my mother,’ he bit out with obvious reluctance.

His cousin looked surprised. ‘Will that do any good?’

‘Probably not,’ Logan conceded. ‘But it might make me feel better. These are good people she’s playing around with.’ He paused, then went on, ‘Daniel Simon was recently widowed; he doesn’t need someone like my mother messing up his life.’

‘Hmm.’ Fergus looked thoughtful. ‘I wonder—’ He broke off as the door opened after the briefest of knocks.

Talk of the devil—!

Logan’s gaze narrowed as his mother walked unannounced into the room, as beautiful as ever in a fitted black suit and vibrant red blouse.

‘Karen told me you were closeted in here with Fergus,’ she said, closing the door behind her.

Fergus had stood up at his aunt’s entrance, glancing across frowningly at Logan’s set expression as he made no effort to do likewise. ‘I was just on my way to see Brice.’ He moved to kiss Logan’s mother lightly on the cheek. ‘Bye, Aunt Meg. Logan,’ he added evenly.

Logan ignored the warning note in his cousin’s voice; he had no intention of pulling any verbal punches where his mother was concerned.

‘Do stop scowling, Logan,’ his mother snapped impatiently once they were alone, a frown marring the creaminess of her brow. ‘I know I don’t usually call on you here, but I’ve come to ask you for advice—’

‘Ask me for advice?’ he said incredulously; this wasn’t what he had been expecting at all.

Not that he had expected to see his mother here in the first place; if the two of them ever did meet, it was usually by accident and not design. As in the restaurant yesterday evening…

She gave him an irritated look as she sat down in the chair Fergus had so recently vacated, crossing one shapely knee over the other. ‘You seem to be on friendly terms with Darcy—’

‘Correction, Mother, I was on friendly terms with Darcy,’ Logan cut in coldly, having physical evidence to prove that friendship was a thing of the past! ‘Before she realised I was your son. Or do I mean before she realised you were my mother? Same thing, I suppose,’ he ruminated. ‘The end result is that Darcy no longer sees me as a friend.’ Or anything else. And it was amazing how much more that pained him than the bruise on his leg!

‘I see,’ his mother said. ‘What am I going to do, Logan?’ She gave a confused sigh.

Logan couldn’t hide his surprise. This was something new; his mother had never asked for his opinion—on anything!—before…

‘About what?’ he prompted harshly.

‘Darcy, of course,’ she returned. ‘Do try not to be obtuse, Logan,’ she admonished. ‘I’m sure you are well aware by now of my engagement to Daniel Simon. Darcy’s father.’

‘I believe someone did mention it to me, yes,’ he drawled.

His mother’s eyes flashed deeply blue, two wings of angry colour in her cheeks. ‘If you ever showed an interest in me or my life, Logan, then I would have told you myself! But as you don’t…’ She drew in a ragged breath.

‘Last night you gave the impression you had no idea who Darcy was,’ Logan said questioningly.

‘Well, of course the two of us have never met, but I guessed who she was last night,’ his mother retorted. ‘I was merely trying to avoid a scene in the restaurant. You see, Darcy doesn’t like the idea of her father marrying me—’

‘I wonder why.’ He couldn’t resist his taunting reply.

His mother gave him a considering look. ‘You know, Logan, you were a lovely little boy, so loving and caring. What happened to change that?’

Logan could see, by the genuine puzzlement on her face, that she really wanted to know. Incredible!

‘Life, Mother,’ he bit out economically. ‘Yours,’ he added hardly as she would have spoken.

She shook her head. ‘I can’t believe that after all these years—Logan, I know I’ve made mistakes in the past—’

‘Mistakes!’ Now he did stand up, moving impatiently to the coffee machine that stood on a sidetable, pouring himself a cup of the dark steaming brew. ‘Your life has had all the stability of a helter-skelter! And during the early years, after my father died, when I wasn’t old enough to have a say in things, you took me along for the ride!’ he concluded disgustedly.

His mother’s eyes, as she looked up at him, flooded with sudden tears, and she suddenly looked very tiny, and slightly vulnerable. Strange, he had never seen her in quite that light before…

No! His mother was a consummate actress—she had made a living the last thirty years, both on and off screen, with that acting! He must not be taken in and manipulated by the role she apparently saw herself in now.