I stalk over to her, intent on making my point. To him. To her. To bloody fucking anyone who could be spying on us.
The look on my face makes her eyes widen, and she takes a step back involuntarily. Is she afraid I'll hurt her?
I reach for her bun, fisting the silky locks in the palm of my hand. I yank her head back, and when her mouth opens in a gasp, I slam my mouth on hers. Her hands come around my shoulders to anchor herself as I kiss her, my tongue meeting hers, demanding she yield to me, and when she does, I slide my hand along her lower back, yanking her flush against me as I kiss her.
I release her, loving the way her lips are swollen and slightly parted, her hair spilling out of her bun down the side of her face and in her eyes.
“Mac,” she whispers. I kiss her again to quiet her.
“Behave while I’m gone,” I whisper in her ear. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She nods dumbly, and I let her go with great reluctance.
Clyde looks away when I turn to him, as if embarrassed to see such an intimate moment. I don’t fucking care.
“Call me if you see or hear a single fucking move out of line, you understand me?”
“Aye,” he says, nodding. “Of course.”
I leave my house fueled with rage at whoever’s come to threaten us. If they’re here because of her, I’ll fucking kill them.
I call Leith. He answers on the first ring.
“Where the fuck is he?”
“Basement. We saved him for you.”
I hear muffled curses in the background as I increase my speed, jogging to the main house. I enter the house to find the fucking housekeeper, the girl called Aisla, watching me with large, wide eyes.
“What the fuck are you staring at?” I know I’m being a douchebag. I don’t usually treat any of them this way, but I’m so pissed I hope I get the chance to beat the crap out of someone tonight.
“Nothing, sir,” she says, but as she scurries away, a notebook falls out of her pocket.
I wouldn’t think anything of it, if she didn’t react with utter horror. She gasps when she sees it, picks it up, and shoves it back in her pocket.
“Give that here.”
She freezes, her hand on the notebook. “G-give what, sir?”
“Give me that fucking notebook.” I’m stalking over to her, ready to tear it out of her bloody hands.
She turns to me, “There’s nothing in it, sir, but my private diary.”
Lies. She’s lying.
I snap my fingers. “I said give it here.”
If she’s snooping, I want to know.
She shakes her head. “I-I can’t do that, sir.”
I look at her in surprise. No one on our staff questions us. Ever.
“If you don’t, I’ll fire you.”
Her eyes go wide, and she shakes her head from side to side. “You can’t do that, Mr. Cowen. You can’t!”
“I fucking can and will. Now this is your last chance. Give it here.”
With trembling fingers, she hands it to me. I don’t have time to look through it yet.
“Stay right there,” I tell her, then I dial Islan.
“Yeah, Mac? What’s up?”
“Your guard with you?”
She blows out a breath. “Of fucking course,” she mutters. “Always. Why?”
“Send him down to me, and you join Paisley in her room tonight.”
There’s a pause before she answers. “Everything alright?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll tell you when I know.”
She’s quiet, then agrees. “Alright, then, will send him down straight away.” I hear her talking to him. “Mr. Cowen wants you downstairs. Mac. Says you’re needed and I’m to join Paisley.”
A moment later, her guard comes to join us. I gesture to Aisla. “This one’s under house arrest until further notice.”
“Mr. Cowen!”
Aisla looks abashed.
She’s hiding something, I fucking know it. She looks from me to him and then back at me. She takes a step toward me. “Sir, please, I promise, I would never do anything to betray the Cowen family.”
“I didn’t say you’d betrayed us.” Jesus, she’s definitely hiding something. I turn to go, when she lunges, grabbing at the notebook in my hand. She catches me by surprise and manages to get ahold of it, but my guard’s faster. He lifts her bodily up in the air, his arms wrapped round her like rope. She kicks her feet and fights, but he only shakes his head as he brings her back over to me.
I pluck the notebook right out of her hand.
“That was a mistake, lass,” I tell her, shaking my head. “There’s nothing you could’ve done that would’ve proven your guilt more.” I nod toward the study on the main floor, the room that used to be my father’s office before he grew too ill to go up and down the stairs. “Take her there. You’ll have everything you need.”