Читать книгу Tall, Dark & Gorgeous: To Marry McKenzie - Кэрол Мортимер, Carole Mortimer - Страница 9

‘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.

‘I know I was far from the perfect mother to you, Logan, after your father died,’ she began huskily. ‘But I just missed him so much—’

‘I missed him too,’ Logan told her coldly.

‘I know,’ she acknowledged shakily. ‘I do know, Logan,’ she insisted as he would have protested. ‘But it isn’t the same. I had lost the man I loved. I was lost, seemed to lose all direction in my life. I—I made a mistake when I married again, I know that,’ she admitted. ‘But I was lonely, and—There’s nothing I can do or say now that will take away the past. It’s the future we have to look to now.’

Logan looked down at her. This really was a different role for her. His mother had never spoken to him in this way before, never confided in him in this way. And he wasn’t quite sure how to deal with it.

‘Whose future are we talking about, Mother?’ he queried. ‘Yours or mine?’

She looked back up at him, her gaze unwavering. ‘I love Daniel Simon,’ she told him quietly. ‘He’s the first and only man I have loved since I lost your father. And I would like to marry him.’

Logan shrugged. ‘The last I heard, that’s exactly what you intend doing!’

She shook her head. ‘Not without Darcy’s approval.’

His mouth quirked. ‘Again, the last I heard—and she didn’t exactly use these words, you understand?—there was about as much chance of Darcy giving her blessing to her father marrying you as there is of hell freezing over!’

‘I know,’ his mother agreed dully.

Logan gave her a probing look, still unsure of her in this mood. Usually his mother gave the impression she was totally in control of her world, and the people in it. Perhaps that was the trouble this time…?

‘Dear, dear, Mother, don’t tell me that you aren’t more than capable of talking Daniel Simon round to your way of thinking?’ he taunted. Goodness knew there were very few men who could resist his mother’s brand of charm!

‘You just don’t understand, do you, Logan?’ His mother shook her head sadly as she returned his gaze unblinkingly. ‘Daniel is all for going ahead with the marriage, and dealing with Darcy’s feelings later; I’m the one who won’t go ahead with the wedding without his daughter’s approval. It’s no way to begin our married life together, and I will not come between father and daughter.’

Now Logan was really puzzled. Could it be, could it really be, that his mother really did love Daniel Simon, that she was putting someone else’s happiness above her own…? It would be the first time!

His mother gave a shy smile at his obviously stunned expression. ‘Not exactly the way you see me, is it, Logan?’ she ventured ruefully. ‘Maybe if we had been closer the last twenty years or so—’

‘As you are well aware, Mother, I despised Malcolm Slater, the man you chose to marry after my father died, preferred to live with Grandfather rather than with you and him,’ he revealed with distaste.

‘I despised Malcolm myself by the time we were divorced,’ she admitted.

Logan was surprised. ‘You did?’

His mother gave a wistful smile. ‘I did. Mainly because I lost my son during the five years we were married. Logan, why do you think I feel so strongly about having Darcy’s approval to her father marrying me? It’s because I know how it feels to lose your child in those circumstances,’ she continued firmly. ‘I lost you for that very reason, because of the way you felt about Malcolm,’ she said emotionally. ‘And although it may be too late to do anything to salvage our own relationship, I won’t do that to Daniel and Darcy!’

Logan stared at his mother, wondering, just wondering, if he could have been wrong about her all these years…

She looked at him with unwavering blue eyes. ‘I need your help, Logan. I need you to help me persuade Darcy that I really do love her father, that I intend making him happy. Will you help me?’

Would he?

Wasn’t his mother, a woman he had kept at an emotional distance for more years than he cared to think about, asking him to take on the role Darcy had already cast him in at lunch-time—that of championing his mother?

Did he really want to champion his mother? Could he believe the things she was saying to him?

More to the point, didn’t Darcy already hate him enough…?

‘Call for you, Darcy,’ her grandmother called up the stairs.

A call for her…?

Who from? Apart from her father, no one else knew she had been staying with her maternal grandmother the last couple of days; and her father only knew because her grandmother had thought she ought to tell him.

Again, it was only a temporary arrangement, Darcy having found an apartment to rent that very afternoon. Unfortunately the current tenant wasn’t moving out until next week.

She ran down the stairs to pick up the receiver in the hallway. ‘Yes?’ she prompted warily.

‘Darcy,’ Logan McKenzie greeted with satisfaction. ‘You’re a very difficult young lady to track down.’

Darcy had stiffened as soon as she’d recognised his voice, her hand tightly gripping the receiver. ‘Why did you bother?’ she returned coldly.

‘I thought you might be interested to know that I’m in hospital with a broken shin-bone,’ he came back mildly.

‘You’re what?’ she gasped, remembering all too vividly the way she had kicked him on the leg at the restaurant two days ago.

‘That got your attention anyway.’ He chuckled. ‘Actually…’ he sobered ‘…I exaggerated slightly.’

‘How slightly?’ Darcy ventured warily.

‘I’m not in hospital. And my shin-bone isn’t broken.’

‘In other words, it was a total lie!’ Darcy came back disgustedly.

‘Fabrication,’ he corrected smoothly. ‘It isn’t nice to call someone a liar, Darcy.’

‘Logan,’ she sighed wearily, ‘what do you want?’

‘To have dinner with you this evening,’ he returned lightly.

She was taken aback at the unexpected invitation. ‘Why?’

‘You really are the most suspicious young lady!’ he opined dryly. ‘Why not?’

The reasons for that were too numerous to go into. And some of them were reasons she couldn’t possibly tell Logan! As in, she found him too disturbingly attractive. As in, she dared not run the risk of having him kiss her again. As in—

‘Oh, come on, Darcy,’ he cajoled at her continued silence. ‘It’s only dinner.’

Only dinner…

But what were the implications behind the invitation? What was it supposed to achieve? Because she had no doubts that under ordinary circumstances—such as his mother not being about to marry her father!—Logan would never have thought of asking her out to dinner! He must already be aware, she had no influence with her father whatsoever!

‘Logan, my father is a grown man, an adult, perfectly capable of making his own choices and decisions without any help from me,’ she told him decisively.

‘Yes?’

‘Yes!’

Was he being deliberately difficult? Didn’t he realise how much it hurt her to be at odds with her father like this?

Apart from picking up her things from the house, telling her father where she was staying for the moment, the two of them hadn’t spoken to each other for two days. And this man’s mother was responsible for the estrangement between the two of them.

‘I don’t see what your problem is, Darcy,’ Logan told her. ‘You’ve got what you wanted, by fair means or foul, so why—?’

‘What do you mean?’ she cut in.

‘My mother has broken off her engagement to your father,’ Logan revealed.

‘She’s done what?’ she gasped, suddenly feeling lightheaded, so much so that she sat down abruptly on the chair beside the telephone.

‘Yes, it’s all off,’ Logan told her happily. ‘My mother broke the engagement last night.’

‘Why?’ Darcy breathed dazedly.

‘Does it matter?’ Logan replied. ‘It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?’

She hadn’t wanted her father to marry Margaret Fraser, no, but until she knew the reasons for the broken engagement she could feel no satisfaction in its ending. If the couple had simply decided they had made a mistake after all, that was okay, but if it were for any other reason—such as her own objections to it!—then it wasn’t okay at all. If Margaret Fraser had been the one to break the engagement, how must her father feel now?

‘I must say,’ Logan continued at her silence, ‘I expected you to be happier about it than this.’

But how could she be—when she knew her father must be totally miserable?

This was awful. A mess. It was a mess she had helped create…!

‘Then you thought wrong, Logan,’ she responded. ‘And if you think I’m going out with you this evening to celebrate—’

‘I think celebration is far too strong a description of my invitation,’ he 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, she had 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!