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Sadie's Highlander Page 3
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With a defeated shake of his head, Dwyn turned and stared at the largest of six screens centered in a wall of video surveillance, pointed a small remote at the monitors, and clicked until the view of the meeting room appeared. “It appears t’me that yer mother and Mistress Lydia have been talkin’ entirely too much t’one another and yer arse is doomed.” Dwyn leaned forward, squinting as he glared at the monitor. “What has that thin one there gone and done to herself? She looks…unnatural. Reminds me of a banshee I once came across in Ireland.”
“Who’s ta say?” Alec tucked his shirt into his jeans, sat on the bench beside Dwyn, and yanked on his boots. “Ye ken her type as well as I. She’s as fickle as the wind. I felt it in m’bones as soon as I set eyes upon her.” He leaned forward, hands on both knees, nodding at Delia’s pinch-faced image. “ ’Tis why I feel this is wrong and we waste our time. I dinna trust her nor her company. And yer own research found they dinna always keep to their word. Ye discovered the law nippin’ at their heels how many times?” Alec kept his gaze trained on the center screen focused on the two women. ’Twas a damn shame they were having to deal with one such as Delia Williams to meet the writer of those emails. A damn shame indeed.
Dwyn rose from the bench and slowly approached the wall of monitors. Spindly arms folded across his thin frame, his bushy red brows arched to where his hairline would’ve been if he’d had any hair other than a wild reddish-blond tuft sprouting out of the top of his head and slicked back as though he were some exotic bird flattening his crest. “Forget what I found. What did the Heartstone tell ye about this venture?”
The man would bring that up. Alec ignored the question, just as Dwyn had refused to acknowledge his. “Look at the vile woman. Look how she treats her sister, no less.” Again, Alec shook his head at the monitor, his blood heating even more as it appeared that Delia was once again berating Sadie.
He could tell by Sadie’s carefully held mask of calm that Delia’s rant was directed at her. Sadie might appear as though her sister’s words caused her no troubles, but even in the camera he could see the pain in the kind lass’s eyes. “I fail to see how one sister can be so brimming with warmth and kindness while the other is as spiteful as a demon. They canna possibly share the same blood.”
“What did the Heartstone tell ye?” Dwyn repeated the question with a look Alec knew all too well. The stubborn demigod was as relentless as the sea when he set his mind to something.
“I didna ask the Heartstone about the production company.”
“Ye said ye consulted the stone regarding this particular undertaking.”
And he had—but not as Dwyn was thinkin’. Deep in the tunnels beneath Castle Danu, Alec had sat in the hidden artifact chamber and read each one of the emails to the Heartstone. Such enjoyable missives they were. Alec smiled to himself. Those daily emails had become so entertaining, so warm and inviting. He’d begun to look forward to their arrival each day.
Dwyn moved to stand directly in front of Alec. He lightly cleared his throat and fixed Alec with the smug look that clearly said he already knew what Alec was trying to hide. “So what exactly did ye bring before the stone if it was no’ the business with Realm Spinners Productions?”
“The damned emails, if ye must know.” Alec shoved his way around Dwyn and took a stance directly in front of the monitor currently showing the Williams sisters growing more nervous and fidgety by the minute. He smiled to himself when Sadie rose and wandered to the back of the room. Ahh…the books.
A comforting certainty settled across him as Sadie lightly brushed her fingers across the spines of the leather-bound books lining the floor-to-ceiling shelves, pausing now and then when a title caught her eye. Interest lit her features as she drew closer to the shelves, her smile growing as though she’d just discovered a treasure.
Aye, lass. I knew ye’d cherish the written word. How else could ye write such engaging letters?
Dwyn chuckled; the bubbling, pleased-with-himself sound irritated Alec even more. “And did our beloved Heartstone warm to these emails that you yerself found so enthralling or did it remain cold and silent?”
The all-knowing Heartstone had in fact warmed. Its ancient sigil, the triple knot of the goddesses, had softly glowed as though a fire burned within. It was the sign the Heartstone always gave when it deemed a particular venture worthy of its blessing—the blessing it gave only when the sacred stone sensed enough hope, creativity, or love in a matter to consider pursuing. After all, that was the Heartstone’s duty—to guarantee that none of those elements ever disappeared from humanity.
“So it warmed to them?” Dwyn asked in a self-satisfied tone.
“Aye, it did warm well enough, ye stubborn bastard. Do ye find that pleasing?” Alec scooped up the controls for the camera in the meeting room, adjusted the angle of the picture completely away from Delia, and zoomed in on Sadie, who was still slowly perusing her way through the shelves of books.
“Ye like her.” Dwyn joined Alec in front of the screens. “I’ve ne’er seen ye behave this way before.” He motioned toward the screen. “Ye’ve ne’er been impressed with any woman I’ve e’er put before ye—yer always too busy tendin’ to yer duties. And yet ye seem drawn to this particular woman. What is it about this one that catches yer eye so?”
What was it about Sadie Williams? For the life of him, he couldna say for certain. His interest had started with the intriguing emails—the engaging missives filled with imaginative anecdotes about film companies and the humorous life behind the so-called glamorous world of what he’d decided could only be described as an adult’s form of make-believe.
And then he’d seen her. A delightful dark-haired lass with curves aplenty and a smile as bright as the sun. She also appeared honest to a fault, completely incapable of filtering the words that tumbled out of her mouth. Aye, he liked her. Verra much. Perhaps too much for his own good.
Alec followed Sadie with the camera, memorizing her every mannerism: the way she twisted and twirled a dark tress around one finger while chewing on the corner of her bottom lip. The nervous tapping of her thumb on her crossed arms as her gaze scanned the classic titles lining the shelves. He smiled as she rolled up onto the balls of her feet, stretching to her tiptoes and leaning into the shelves, her dark brows arched—she looked like a wee kitten discovering its first mousie. Aye, he liked her and wanted to know her better.
Always focused on protecting his family and serving the goddesses as a descendant of the ancient line of druids sworn to protect the Heartstone, Alec had no time for the women of this century—at least none that required a commitment. Commitment meant he’d have to tell them of his origins. How he’d been born and thought he’d live and eventually die in the tenth century until the goddesses Danu, Scota, and Bride had swept the MacDara clan to the twenty-first century along with the Heartstone and the four sacred weapons. The goddesses had done this to save his family’s lives as well as the blessed artifacts. In all his thirty-five years, he’d ne’er met a woman he felt he could trust with such information. Had he finally met her today?
Alec shook himself free of his muddled thoughts. ’Twas too soon to entertain such. There would be time enough for sorting through all that later—if Mistress Williams accepted his offer. “We’ve had them wait long enough. Signal Grant, Ramsay, Ross, and Father. Tell them it’s time.”
Dwyn nodded and headed toward the door. “I’ll bring them m’self. I take it ye’ll be goin’ on to the meeting room?”
“Aye.” Alec took the remote and shut off the monitors. “I’d like a few words with those two before the rest of ye arrive.”
—
Alec yanked open the hidden side door to the windowless meeting room deep within MacDara Keep. It gave him no small amount of satisfaction to see Delia jerk around in her seat and press a hand to the base of her throat. He’d startled her. Good. ’Twas as sure a sign of guilt and dishonesty if he was e’er to see it. He didna like that woman. Not one damn bit.
&n
bsp; “My brothers and father will join us in a few moments to discuss the terms of the agreement ye wish us to accept.” Alec took a seat in the largest of the six leather wingback chairs centered on the opposite side of the black marble table running the width of the room. The Williams sisters sat in two significantly smaller leather chairs across from him. Their seats had no arms and the ramrod-straight backs made the chairs aesthetically pleasing to look at, but Alec had specifically selected them because they were quite uncomfortable to sit in for any length of time. Meetings were a waste of time. Uncomfortable guests got to the crux of their issues more quickly.
The women perched on the edge of their seats as though waiting to be interrogated. Their seats were isolated, the only chairs on that side of the table. Brilliant floodlights aimed directly at them chased all hints of shadow from their faces.
The cold blue accent lights washing out Sadie’s and Delia’s features were a direct contrast to the torch-like sconces marching down both sides of the room. The bronze sconces flickered with a rich golden glow as though holding captive real flames. The warm lighting brought to life the luxurious burgundy depths of the highly polished mahogany paneling of the walls. Columns comprised of gray stone blocks carefully fitted together and locked in place without any visible mortar were evenly spaced between the elegantly mitered and molded wooden panels, marching down the length of the room like cold, silent sentries.
Alec didn’t say a word. Just stared at the women—mainly Delia. Doing his best to project just how little he thought of her. Sometimes silence was the best way to unnerve a foe. Give the enemy enough rope and they often hanged themselves.
Sadie squirmed in her seat and drummed her fingertips along the edge of the electronic tablet resting on the table in front of her. With a nervous smile, she glanced back over one shoulder and nodded toward the bookcase. “You’ve got quite a collection on those shelves. Some of the greatest reads ever written. I hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t resist checking them out.”
Before Alec could respond, Delia hitched her chair a few inches closer to the table, snatched up the tablet, and shoved it into Sadie’s hands. “Take notes, Sadie. Assistants should be seen and not heard—remember?”
Ruthless wench. If they were back in the tenth century, he’d have the insulting bitch burnt at the stake for witchcraft. She was nothing but darkest evil. He was certain of it.
“On the contrary…” Alec leaned forward, propping his forearms atop the cool black marble of the table while slowly lacing his fingers together. Oh, what a pleasure ’twould be t’choke the evil right out of ye. He clenched his hands tighter, glaring at Delia. No. Must hold fast. Canna frighten the sweet writer of the emails. He stole a glance at Sadie, took a deep, calming breath, then turned his attention back to Delia. “Ye best listen well and treat yer sister with a bit more respect. Yer assistant could verra well be the determining factor in this wee deal ye wish us to forge.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Delia’s tone shifted from an insulted snarl to a barely controlled hiss of wariness.
“I dinna trust ye.” Alec jabbed a finger at Delia, pointing dead square where the woman’s heart would be if she had one—and he verra much doubted that she did. “I dinna think ye could tell the truth if yer life depended on it. Yer deceit reeks like rotting fish.”
Delia pushed up from the chair, knuckling her tightly clenched fists atop the table. “I did not come here to be insulted. If you don’t wish to accept our terms, just say so, Mr. MacDara, and we’ll waste no more of your time.”
Before Alec could respond, the main double doors at the other end of the room opened and in walked Alec’s brothers and father, led by Dwyn MacKay.
“Now, now…none of that. We’ve yet t’discuss the details in question. Have a seat, Ms. Williams,” Dwyn said as the unsmiling group of men quietly filed in behind the table and took their seats. “Allow me to introduce ye to the board of directors of Highland Life and Legends.”
“Allow me,” Alec said, slowly rising from his seat. Ignoring Delia completely, he spoke to Sadie as though she were the only one in the room—and as far as he was concerned, she was.
A knowing smile settled across Dwyn’s face. He nodded for Alec to continue as he took his post beside an enormous whiteboard that had appeared in the center of the back wall at the touch of a hidden button.
Motioning to his left, Alec respectfully nodded to each of his family members as he made the introductions. “My brothers: Grant, Ramsay, and Ross.”
Each of the brothers acknowledged the women with a single slow nod.
Alec slightly bowed toward his father sitting at the far end of the table. The older man, his wild, unkempt hair white as lamb’s wool and his worn denim shirt sporting almost as many threadbare spots as his tattered overalls, seemed oblivious to the goings-on in the room and was totally absorbed in what looked to be an oblong shard of softly glowing quartz cradled between his arthritic hands. “And this is Emrys Danann MacDara. My father.”
At the sound of his full name, Emrys peered up from the crystal, studied Sadie for a few moments, then looked to Alec. Without smiling, he jerked his chin downward in a single sharp nod. “She will do. The other must no’ be trusted under any circumstances.”
Delia immediately reacted with what sounded like a cross between a growl and a stifled scream. “Like I said before, I did not come here to be insulted.”
She launched back up from her seat so quickly that the damaged heel on her shoe finally snapped. Stumbling to one side, she grabbed hold of the chair to keep from falling all the way to the floor. “Dammit! Would you people just show me the way out of this dungeon? I’ve had enough historical bullshit for one day. I can find another location for the shoot with no problem.”
Alec studied Sadie a bit closer. From the amusement sparkling in her dark eyes and the subtle color barely kissing her cheeks, the lovely woman was holding her breath to keep from laughing at her sister. Aye, lass. Yer sister is quite the fool.
“ ’Tis a pity ye’ve decided as such,” Alec noted, not even bothering to hide his amusement at Delia standing with her broken shoe in one hand and her bare foot lifted as though she were some sort of knob-kneed wading bird. “We had but three terms to add to yer agreement and then yer six weeks of filming was to be approved to commence immediately.”
Emrys chuckled softly to himself, spinning the crystal shard on the table and excitedly drumming his fingertips atop the marble each time the rock stopped turning and pointed directly at Sadie.
Grant stood, shoving his chair back as he held out a hand to Delia. “I’ll be happy to escort ye out if ye feel ye canna stomach any more time with my brother.” He highlighted the invitation with a mischievous wink. “I understand completely, ye ken? He fair gives me a case of the red arse a good deal of the time too.”
Delia rolled her broken shoe in one hand as though fighting against the urge to lob it at the men. Hanging on to the back of the chair, she gimped around to stand behind it. She ignored Grant, focusing her sour-faced glare on Alec. “I’m listening. What terms?”
“Show her the map.” Alec motioned to Dwyn, then faced the huge whiteboard behind them.
Dwyn complied with a click of the small remote he held in his hand. An aerial view of the park, with all details and landmarks clearly identified, came into view.
Hmpf. One of the better changes of this time. Much more accurate than maps drawn upon parchment or etched on hides. Most technology befuddled him. Frustrating complications supposed t’save time. More oft than not, they were a large pain in the arse.
Alec heartily approved of this particular advancement. He walked over to the board, took up the laser pointer from the whiteboard’s tray, and fixed the red dot on a small golden label in the northwestern-most point of the map. “Term number one: Ye willna under any circumstances have yer crews go anywhere near this building. Castle Danu and a perimeter of five miles around it is strictly prohibited. This castle is not to be dis
turbed and this point is not negotiable. Period.” He turned and glared at Delia. “If I catch any of yer company near that castle or on that land, ye’ll rue the day ye were born. D’ye ken my meanin’ clearly?”
Delia white-knuckled the back of the chair, lifted her chin, and squared her shoulders. “And the other terms? I believe you mentioned three?”
Alec shifted his attention to Sadie. Eyes wide and leaning slightly forward in rapt interest, she was studying the map as though it were a cherished work of art. And it was. The historical theme park that so easily protected and hid the Heartstone and the goddesses’ sacred weapons was as precious to him as if it were his child. Sadie felt the park was more than just a business to him. He saw it in her eyes.
Nodding at Sadie, Alec slowly approached the table. “Your sister, Mistress Sadie Williams, must vouch for Realm Spinners Productions—assure us that yer company will abide by all the terms currently listed in your contract and by those added here today.” Alec paused and dipped his chin in polite acknowledgment of Sadie’s quick intake of breath. “I trust this woman.” He turned back to Delia. “I’ve already established how I feel about you.”
Delia’s mouth flattened into an angry, overly lipsticked line and the leather back of the chair squeaked in protest as she clenched it even tighter. “My sister will vouch for my company. Won’t you?” She glared down at Sadie, her expression clearly threatening Sadie to say the right thing or else.
Sadie’s sleek dark brows arched a notch higher. She glanced at her sister, then barely nodded at Alec. “Uhm…yes. I can try. I…uhm…will do my best to ensure Delia’s company doesn’t breach the terms of the contract—this time. She and I will go over all the listed requirements with the crew just to be sure everything is clear.” She ended the weak affirmation with a short, strangled cough, as though the words had nearly caught in her throat.