To Marry McKenzie

returned mildly. 'Admittedly, we can no longer drink a toast to the happy

couple, but—'

'How can you be so unfeeling?' she interrupted accusingly. 'I have no idea

how your mother feels, but my father is probably devastated, and all you can

do is—'

'Now just a minute, Darcy,' he put in impatiently. 'You're the one that

wanted an end to this engagement, and now that you have it, you—'

'You wanted it as much as I did,' she defended heatedly. 'You were the one

who thought my father wasn't good enough for your mother!'

'I don't think I ever said that—' 'But you thought it!' Darcy persisted. 'And

now it seems, no doubt with more than a little help from you, that your

mother is of the same opinion. How dare you presume—?'

'Stop right there, Darcy,' Logan told her firmly. 'I most certainly will not,'

she retorted angrily. 'You made it perfectly obvious that you were not happy

about my father marrying your mother—'

'As obvious as you did that you weren't happy about my mother marrying

your father. Now we've both got our wish, so what are you complaining

about? You've won, Darcy,' he taunted. 'Defeated the dragon. In fact, she's

turned tail and run!'

Except Darcy didn't feel as if she had won anything— she felt terrible! Not

that she had changed her opinion about the older woman's unsuitability for

her father, shehad just realised—with blinding clarity!—that she didn't have

the right to decide those things for another person, least of all her father.

'I think you're an unfeeling brute,' she told Logan indignantly.

'Because I won't pretend to be upset about all this?' he scorned.

'Because you're a selfish swine!' she returned forcefully.

'Does that mean you won't be having dinner with me this evening?' he

queried wryly.

'Not this evening, or ever!' she cried. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go

out.'

'To see your father?'

'Mind your own damned business!' she shouted, before slamming down the

telephone receiver.

He was a brute. An unfeeling swine. Didn't he care that his mother was

probably as unhappy at the broken engagement as her father no doubt was?

Obviously not. He was just glad his mother's engagement to—in his eyes!—

a totally unsuitable man was at an end.

Well, they would see about that!

CHAPTER SIX

LOGAN felt like a murderer returning to the scene of the crime!

Not that Chef Simon, with its warm decor, wonderful smells of cooking

food, and efficiently friendly staff, was anything like a scene of carnage and

destruction. Logan just felt, as he walked through the restaurant doorway, as

if he were entering an arena!

Although, admittedly, it was an arena of his own making!

He had no doubt that Darcy really did hate his guts after their telephone

conversation earlier. But he had been the way that he had for a reason.

Except he hadn't been able to resist coming here this evening, if only to see

if Darcy had been reunited with her father. Which had, after all—although

she would never see it that way—been the purpose of his telephone call to

her earlier...

'Good evening, Mr McKenzie,' the maitre d' greeted him warmly. 'How nice

to see you again.'

Coming here to eat twice in one week probably did seem a little excessive,

Logan accepted, but his curiosity, he inwardly admitted, had got the better

of him.

'James,' he said with a nod, after reading the name on the man's lapel. 'My

secretary telephoned earlier and booked a table for me. For one,' he added

dryly; this eating alone was becoming a habit!

'She certainly did,' the maitre d' assured him. 'The same table as before, if

that's okay with you?'

Why not? He was no more in the mood for company this evening than he

had been three days ago!

'Fine.' He smiled. 'And I'll endeavour to get through the whole evening this

time, too,' he quipped.

The other man waved away his words of apology. 'Your cousin explained

that you had been called away unexpectedly.'

Thank you, Fergus, Logan thought to himself.

'Is Darcy—Miss Simon in this evening?' he casually asked the maitre d'

once he was seated, a menu placed in front of him.

For a brief moment, the other man's cheerful efficiency deserted him, but it

was quickly brought under control, although his smile, when it came, still

seemed to Logan to be slightly strained. 'She certainly is, Mr McKenzie,' he

confirmed. 'Would you like me to tell her—?'

'No! Er—no,' Logan repeated less harshly. 'I merely wondered if she was

here tonight, that's all. Thank you,' he added dismissively.

Darcy was here! Hopefully, everything was all right with her world again.

'Can I get you something to drink, Mr McKenzie?' the maitre d' offered

politely.

'Whisky,' he accepted tersely.

'Water and ice?'