To Marry McKenzie

good enough to eat, and Logan suddenly found he felt surprisingly hungry!

'Logan,' she greeted huskily.

'Darcy,' he returned gruffly, his dark gaze eating her up—if nothing else

could.

She looked slightly slimmer than he remembered, dark smudges beneath

her eyes, eyes that appeared deeply shadowed. Despite her well-wishes to

her father and his mother, wishes Logan was sure were completely genuine,

he could see that Darcy was far from happy.

She was looking enquiringly at Francesca Darwin now, obviously waiting

for an introduction. When all Logan wanted to do was carry her upstairs, to

the privacy of one of the fifteen bedrooms, and make love to her until he had

completely dispelled those shadows from her eyes!

'Francesca,' the actress introduced herself, briefly shaking Darcy's hand.

'And I believe you're—Daniel's daughter?' she asked with friendly interest.

'Yes,' Darcy confirmed stiltedly.

'Poor Darcy has been wandering around lost amongst the turrets and cellars

for the last fifteen minutes or so, trying to find her way here from the North

Tower.' Brice was the one to explain her late arrival indulgently, a consoling

hand at one of her elbows.

Which easily explained why Darcy hadn't been down here when Logan had

first arrived. But now that she had arrived, Logan found he wanted to

remove Brice's hand from her arm and—

'Why didn't you tell me that your cousin was Brice McAllister?' Darcy said

with soft reproval, obviously remembering that painting of Brice's hanging

on the wall in Logan's apartment.

He hadn't told her his cousin was the world-renowned painter—because it

hadn't occurred to him to do so. The two men had grown up together; he

simply never gave it a thought that Brice was McAllister. Just as he never

gave Fergus's, success as a writer any thought, either. All three men were

successful in their chosen field, but to each other they were just cousins and

lifelong companions.

But he could see by the reproval in the darkness of Darcy's eyes that

explanation would do very little to alleviate the embarrassment she had

obviously felt, at their introduction, that Brice was actually the painter of the

picture of his grandfather's castle she had so admired at Logan's apartment a

couple of weeks ago!

Could he never do anything right where this woman was concerned?

Logan looked wonderful!

Darcy had both dreaded and anticipated seeing him again this weekend.

Anticipated, because the last ten days without so much as a sight of him had

dragged interminably. Dreaded, because she had been sure the next time she

saw him that it would be in the company of the woman who obviously

meant so much in his life she was able to influence his decision concerning

attending his mother's wedding.

Francesca...

Tall. Blonde. Sexily alluring in a fitted black dress. The other woman was

everything that Darcy wasn't. Even the other woman's name was beautiful.

'Is it important?' Logan rasped harshly now.

Was what importa—? 'Well, I did feel rather silly not knowing,' she

answered abruptly, realising he was referring to her earlier remark

concerning his cousin.

This family were all so talented, so much larger than life. A famous actress.

A multimillionaire businessman. A world-renowned painter. Even the

grandfather, Hugh McDonald, with his castle, his distinguished good looks

so like Logan's own, was intimidating. Darcy felt totally out of her depth in

such company.

She had known this weekend in Scotland was going to be difficult, but, for

her father and Meg's sake she had known she had to come here. But seeing

Logan, his dark good looks a perfect foil for the blonde beauty of the lovely

Francesca, she knew it was going to be even harder to get through than she

had imagined. Thank goodness Brice McAllister was here on his own too,

and inclined to be friendly!

'Don't give it another thought, Darcy,' Brice assured her easily now. 'Just

concentrate on thinking over my earlier suggestion, hmm?' he added

eagerly.

'You haven't propositioned her already, have you, Brice?' Logan put in

hardly.

Darcy gave him a frowning look, heated colour in her cheeks. 'Your cousin

has very kindly suggested that he would like to paint me,' she explained

carefully, not liking Logan's implication at all. Although she hadn't

particularly taken Brice McAllister's suggestion seriously, either, sure he

was just being friendly. After all, the man was world-famous. Besides, who

would ever want to buy a painting of her, even a McAllister...?

'How wonderful!' the woman Francesca gushed excitedly.

'Really?' Logan raised scornful brows. 'Is that another way of inviting her to

your studio to see your etchings?' he taunted his cousin.

Darcy- could feel her temper beginning to rise. Something that hadn't