Sizzle All Day (30 page)

"Jake!" Chrissy exclaimed, pushing at her husband's shoulders. Cole muttered some more as he withdrew his hand from beneath Chrissy's skirts and allowed her to edge around him and fly into her brother's arms. "Finally. We waited and waited and waited..."

"Quit whining. Looks like you found something to occupy your time."

"You're one to talk. Where's your shirt? Where's your bride?"

She glanced around, spied both objects of her inquiry, and then did the damnedest thing. Christina Delaney Morgan, Queen of the Chili Queens of San Antonio and acknowledged as the biggest flirt in Texas, blushed. Her cheeks went bright as the walls in Rowanclere's crimson drawing room.

Jake stood there gawking at her. He couldn't remember ever seeing such a sight. He would have pondered the anomaly another moment, but he happened to note the direction of Cole's stare—toward Gillian's legs, bare below the knees—and priorities took over. He tugged on the blanket she held wrapped around her waist, hiding as much of his wife as the tartan allowed.

He couldn't do a damned thing about the bare feet.
Well, at least this is family and not some peeking pervert.

Cole flashed a wide grin and stuck out his hand. "Howdy, Mrs. Delaney. I'm Cole Morgan and this is my wife, Christina. She's—"

"Jake's sister," Gillian said with a hint of despair in her tone. Her complexion flushed as red as Chrissy's as she yanked the blanket up in that instinctive feminine response of covering the bosom—never mind about those alluring legs and feet—and primly added, "I am very pleased to meet you."

Chrissy brushed wrinkles from her skirt and didn't quite meet Gillian's eyes as she replied, "I am thrilled to meet you, also."

Cole burst out in a laugh. "Jake, my friend, our women are liars. They're both mortified, embarrassed clear down to the bone."

Jake gave his wife's blanket skirt another downward tug. "You're right. I reckon this isn't exactly the best of circumstances for meeting new in-laws." He paused, then added, "Kinda fits our family, though, doesn't it?"

Cole folded his arms and grinned. "We are manly men with fierce appetites."

Chrissy doubled up her fist and hit first her husband, then her brother, on the shoulder. Hard.

"Bug!" they exclaimed, simultaneously, leveling glares upon her that she fired right back.

Jake added, "What have I told you about hitting me? You're just like my wife. I'm not a punching bag and...."

His sentence trailed off when Gillian began to laugh. "Mrs. Morgan, something tells me you and I shall get along famously."

Her voice was music that helped to relax a part of him that had been wound tight as a pea vine through a picket fence since the gunshot. "Look, I have a barrel full of questions for y'all and a thing to tell you in return, but I know I'd be more comfortable if Gilly and I make a quick trip upstairs first. How about we meet in the library in ten minutes. It's the room right off—"

"We know where it is. Jake. Robyn Ross gave us a tour of the castle shortly after we arrived."

"Where is my sister?" Gillian inquired.

Cole's grin slashed across his face. "She said something about chariot design."

Gillian winced and chewed at her bottom lip. "Knowing Robbie, that sounds dangerous. Maybe I should—"

"No, princess." Jake grabbed her hand and tugged her along with him as he headed for a seldom used side entrance to Rowanclere. "I know about this. It's something to do with Scooter, I've been helping her, and it's nothing hazardous. C'mon, let's get you upstairs and into some shoes."

She peppered him with questions while they dressed. Some he answered, some he had no answers for, only suspicions. Like the probability that his sister and her husband brought proof that the funds of his trust had been released, completing the sale of the castle. That would mean he had fulfilled the terms of his agreement with Angus Brodie. It would mean he was free to leave Rowanclere.

His stomach sank like a foot in a bog, but almost immediately, another thought occurred that somehow made him feel a bit better. He couldn't go anywhere. Not until he got to the bottom of the mystery about the gunshot and the watcher in the woods.

"That sonofabitch," he grumbled as he slipped his arms through the sleeves of a clean shirt. The dark mood that had lifted upon seeing the Morgans descended like a cloud once again. It followed him down the stairs and into the library where Chrissy and Cole waited.

Upon entering, he glanced around the room, fully figuring to see another familiar figure. "Mother didn't come with you?"

Chrissy shook her head. "She won't be arriving until shortly before the party."

"Party? What party?"

Chrissy and Cole shared a baffled look, then his sister said, "Uh, the party you invited us to. Invitations to a celebration in honor of your marriage arrived at Hartsworth along with your note. We left almost immediately."

Jake turned to Gillian. "Do you know about this?"

She shook her head. "It must be Uncle Angus's doing. A foy is a traditional way to celebrate a wedding. He's probably invited all the family and everyone in the glen." She addressed Chrissy. "When is the event to take place?"

"Ten days from now."

"Oh." Jake didn't necessarily mind, but he wished someone had informed him about it. "Like they say, the husband is always the last to know."

Chrissy rolled her eyes. "Come on, Jake. You know we would have paid you a visit, party or not. You sent a note saying you'd married. Surely you knew to expect us after that."

"Actually, I figured to see you ride in a few days ago."

Cole accepted the glass of whisky Jake offered. "I want you to know I delayed her as long as was humanly possible."

"You always were a decent friend, Morgan." He lifted his own glass in silent salute.

Their banter annoyed his sister so Chrissy, being Chrissy, fought back. "You have to admit, news of your marriage came as quite a shock. At least, to me it did. Mother didn't act too surprised. The last I heard you were on your way to Bora Bora. What happened, Jake? What happened to make you give up your silly dream of traveling the globe? How did you convince this lovely young woman to tie herself to the likes of you for the rest of her life?"

Jake darted a glance toward Gillian. She sat on the edge of her chair, staring hard at her hands lying laced in her lap. His mouth suddenly went dry; he felt like a rabbit looking down the barrel of a shotgun. Hell, only Chrissy would have found the one topic of discussion guaranteed to make this sorry day even sorrier.

Then his wife glanced up. Their gazes met and held. He saw the warmth glowing in their deep blue depths and in that warmth, he recognized the question.
Are you willing to stay with me?

He asked his own in return.
Have you decided to come with me when I go?

Since their marriage, the idea had grown on him and now, the thought of traveling alone left him cold. How beautiful would he find Tahiti an beaches if Gillian wasn't sitting on the sand?

But could he bear never seeing them at all?

Hell, he couldn't think about this now. He couldn't deal with this now. He grimaced and shoved his hand through his hair. And remained silent.

Gillian's expression underwent a subtle change. He wondered if anyone else saw the shadow that dimmed her sunshine smile as she looked at Chrissy and said, "Actually, you misread our marriage. Jake and I have an understanding. He will still be taking his trip."

He cut his gaze toward her. She lifted her chin. Well, hell. That didn't sound like she meant to come along.

Jake dragged his gaze from Gillian and focused on his sister, figuring it was time to change the subject. "All this socializing needs to wait, for now. I've got business in the woods. Need to look around. Somebody took a shot at my wife and me today."

"What? Why didn't you say something earlier?" Cole sat his whisky glass down hard and sighed. "Not more trouble. I was hoping we were done with that sort of thing."

Chrissy's expression turned fierce. "Why would someone shoot at you? What have you gotten yourself into now, Jake Delaney?"

"Me? Hey sister, I'm not the one who got herself sealed into a sarcophagus last winter, now am I?"

"That wasn't my fault and you know it."

"Please!" Gillian shoved to her feet. "The two of you whine louder than Flora's hungry bairns."

Brother and sister locked gazes. He grinned. "Isn't she cute?"

"I like her, Jake. Now tell me who would want to kill you."

A wheezing cough sounded from the doorway right before Angus Brodie said, "That's a tale I'd like to hear myself."

* * *

Gillian beamed at her grand-uncle. "Uncle Angus, it is wonderful to see you up. You must be feeling better."

"I am feeling well this day—at least I was. Tell me about this trouble."

Gillian nibbled at her bottom lip and wandered around the room during Jake's recitation of the events in the birk woods, afraid he'd say more than strictly necessary about their activities during the picnic. She had yet to recover from her embarrassment over her initial meeting with the Morgans. All she needed now was for Uncle Angus to hear the story.

Jake averted that disaster, however, by telling the tale in crisp, succinct sentences. She sensed his anxiousness to return to the woods to search, but he took care with her grand-uncle, answering all his questions before asking some of his own. Questions that took Gillian aback.

"What about this Maclean fella?" Jake asked. "Think he could have done it?"

"David?" repeated Angus.

"Not David," Gillian scoffed. She wiped a bit of dust from the glass and brass inkwell on the desk.

"Why not?" Jake sprawled upon a settee. "Jealousy does strange things to a man."

"Who is David?" asked Chrissy.

"I was once betrothed to David Maclean," Gillian replied. "He married someone else. Assuming that shot might have been a product of David's jealousy is sappie-headed."

Jake snorted. "You're the one being sappie-headed, whatever that is. Have you already forgotten what he wanted when he came to call? I don't doubt David Maclean is jealous as hell that you are mine and not his. In fact, I think Maclean took a potshot at me and missed. He watched us, Gillian. Spied on us."

"Spied on you?" Uncle Angus repeated. "What do you mean?"

She felt the heat climb up her neck.
Please, Jake, don't
.

"Some sonofabitch stood in the trees and watched me make love to my wife."

If embarrassment could melt the human body, Gillian would be a puddle on the library floor.

Angus thumped the tartan carpet with one of his canes. "Maclean would not act in such a dishonorable manner."

Jake sat up straight and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He stared Angus right in the eyes and declared, "The hell he wouldn't. He asked her to be his mistress!"

"Jake, watch your language," cautioned his sister.

Angus frowned and tugged at his beard. "He asked that of her?"

"Yes!"

Angus looked at Gillian. "Ah lass, the puir man loves you so much."

"Love?" Jake's eyes went wide and round as he shoved to his feet. "Excuse me, Gillian is my wife—" he thumped his chest "—not his. The man had his chance and he threw it away. He married someone else."

Angus gave another whack with his cane. "You don't ken, Delaney. He did his duty by his family, just like young men—and women—have done for ages. He is a good man." Angus paused, then threw down the verbal gauntlet. "Gillian would not have fallen in love with him were he not."

"That's right," Gillian agreed.

Jake made a fist and banged on a table. "David Maclean is married. And by God, Gillian is too. They both need to remember that." Green eyes blazed as he shot a look toward Cole and snapped, "I'm headin' back to the woods to take a closer look at the scene. Are you comin' with me?"

Cole Morgan followed Jake as he stormed out of the library, and moments later, the bang of Rowanclere's front door echoed through the hallways.

"Even with my puir hearing I heard that slam," Angus said, wincing. Then he cleared his throat and added, "Gilly, what is all this nonsense about David? Did he truly ask you to be his dunty?"

She sank onto the settee recently vacated by her husband. "Aye. The day Jake and I wed. Though I doubt Jake would admit it, I believe it is the reason he proposed marriage. He was angry at David."

"He was jealous. He is still jealous and that is why he suspects this David of being the culprit behind the shooting." Christina Morgan settled back into her seat with a pleased smile. "Green looks good on my brother. Matches his eyes. Mama will be so happy. You have hooked him but good, Gillian."

Gillian offered a sickly smile. Chrissy couldn't have been more wrong. "Our marriage is more an arrangement than a traditional union. Your brother made his wishes clear from the outset. He will depart for his travels as soon as some legal work is completed."

"And that's all right with you?" She dusted the settee's wooden trim with her thumb. "I will admit I have harbored hopes of winning him, but I do not want him if he doesn't want to stay. I won't have a man filled with regrets."

"Regrets?" Chrissy wrinkled her nose. "No, not Jake. He's not the type. Oh, he may play out the line for a time, run with the bait, but I know my brother. He is well and truly hooked. I am thrilled about it too, Gillian. I think you and I will be the best of friends."

"You should talk to him," Angus announced. "Something is wrong here, I sense it."

"I will not." Gillian folded her arms and frowned. "I have my pride. If he stays, I want it to be his choice, not because of anything I said."

"Not Delaney," Angus said, waving a dismissive hand. "Maclean. Something is off about this entire business. I canna believe he would come to our home and invite you to become his mistress. That's not the David I know."

Gillian steepled her fingers in front of her mouth, tapping her lips as she considered Uncle Angus's suggestion. "I think that is an excellent idea,"

"It's a terrible idea," Chrissy cried. "You cannot knock on a man's front door and accuse him of shooting at you."