Logan (17 page)

But if the bastard stepped out of line just once, he would have to deal with Logan.
 

By the time dessert was being served, Meg was ready to turn tail and run. Boring and stressful didn’t cover the night. If they did not have the problem of stealing the sapphire she wouldn’t be ready to scream.
 

Meg looked down the table at the people there. That was wrong. If they had not been after the jewel, she would still want to leave. She was ready for a good long, hot soak. And she wanted to make love to Logan.
 

It was odd how he had become the center of her life in such a short time. She sipped at her coffee, as they waited for the tiny plates of dessert, and she looked around the table again. She didn’t think there was one person she’d known during her time with Pierre. It was intimate—as intimate as Pierre would be. Even during some of their
romantic dinners
they had never really been alone.
 

As she studied this new group of people, she did not miss the sneering looks…or the speculation about her relationship to Pierre. There was enough information out there for people to find out just who she was thanks to their smart phones and search engines.
 

Her stomach rolled over. Suddenly, the amazingly rich dinner threatened to make her sick. She knew it was her nerves. It had been one of her worst tells. More than once she’d spent the night before a con went down in the bathroom throwing up.
 

The dilatants and society climbers that sat around the table served no purpose in the world. They did nothing more than gossip and ruin people’s lives. And she had been part of this world at one time. Did she ever see how horrible these people were then? They might be different people, but they had the same personalities.
 

“Are you feeling all right?” Logan said.
 

His warm breath feathered against her ear and made her shiver.
 

“Yes. Just thinking of how we change as we grow older.”
 

“Aye. Things do change here and there, but we basically stay the same.”
 

She turned to face him. “The priorities of a twenty-year-old are so not what I want as a thirty-year-old.”
 

Slowly, his lips curled, and there was a spark of devilment in his gaze. “Is that a fact?”
 

The breath in her throat seemed lodged, and her heart was thumping so hard she was sure everyone could hear it.  
 

How had this happened so quickly? She knew she was truly in love with him. Not infatuated like she had been with Pierre. She had thought he would save her from a life she hated. But, he had not. I had almost broken her and it hadn’t been even a tenth of what she now felt for Logan.
 

With Logan, she didn’t want to be saved. She wanted to walk side by side with him. She wanted them to save each other.
 

She wanted forever, with babies, and all that crap.
 

Oh, damn.
 

“Meg?” he asked, his voice worried.
 

She shook her head. “Everything is okay.”
 

Meg leaned over and brushed her mouth over his.
This
. She wanted this for the rest of her life.
 

“We have a lot to talk about when we get back to Scotland.”
 

She smiled. “Yes we do.”
 

Maggie motioned with her head, telling her they were about to start their efforts. With that, reality came back down on her. She looked Logan straight in the eye. “We will succeed.”
 

He nodded, although he didn’t look happy about it.
 

Then, Maggie stood up and looked at her. Meg, playing the role they had come up with, hurried over to her friend.
 

“Are you feeling all right?”
 

Maggie shook her head. “Feeling a little sick to my stomach.”
 

Meg made a great scene of helping her friend up out of her chair. Pierre was there by her side in seconds.
 

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.
 

She glanced at him and smiled.
 

“No. I think my Irish friend is having issues with rich French food. Thank you.”
 

For a moment, he stood in their way. Meg thought he was going to refuse to let them go. Then, he plastered a smile and stepped back. She pretended to assist Maggie down the hall. Maggie for her part, played it to the hilt. She rested all her weight on Meg.
 

“Good lord, you weigh a lot.”
 

“Americans are rude.”
 

When the finally made it to the bathroom, Meg locked the door behind her. Maggie jumped up on the long counter. “Well, that one thinks a lot of himself. Just look at this damned bathroom. This is bigger than my apartment I had in New York.”
 

“You know what they say about men who buy big things to impress people?” she asked.
 

Maggie laughed. “Ah, it’s nice we hold that over men. They are unusually attached to that particular body part.”
 

Meg smiled but it faded. Maggie took her hand.
 

“This will work.”
 

Meg nodded. “It will.”
 

Maybe if she said it enough times, she would start to believe it.
 

Maggie shrugged. “Let Angus know I need him, send him my way. Logan has the keys to the car.”
 

She nodded and stepped out of the bathroom. Once the door shut, she turned to walk back to the dining room. Just before she reached the room, Pierre stepped out of the shadows.
 

Alarm pulsed through her at first. She swallowed, but found her mouth dry. He was the man of her nightmares, and she had walked back into the house where he had done everything he could to ruin her just a few years earlier.
 

“Hello, Meg. I was wondering if you would like to come out onto the terrace with me.”
 

She glanced toward the dining room. This wasn’t wholly unexpected, but it happened faster than they had planned. It meant that she needed to keep him occupied for a longer period of time.
 

“I’m not sure I should.”
 

He gave her the French male version of a pout. Pierre was so very good at pouting. How had she been so in love with the man? He as attractive in that polished sort of way that most women would find tempting. His suits were tailored, his nails manicured and he had his hair trimmed on a weekly basis.
 

Meg found herself repulsed by him. She now seemed to like a big strapping Scot who could fill out a tux, but she preferred him in his chinos or even a kilt. Now, looking at Pierre, he seemed small compared to the McLennans.  She had missed the black spot on his soul.
 

“I promise, no accusations this time, Meghan.”
 

She hesitated. “I need to tell Angus that Maggie needs him. I think she needs to go back to my apartment.”
 

He motioned toward one of the stewards, and ordered him to get Angus. Then he offered her the same smile she had yearned for years ago, the one that she had thought was filled with love. This time, she felt a chill pass over her soul.
 

“That will work.” She took his offered arm and went out onto the terrace, not sure of what would happen, but hopeful this would all end tonight.
 

Maggie and Angus slipped back into the house by the side door. It was a bit scary just how easy it was to get into his house. The double back from where the cab had dropped them hadn’t taken that long. A flick of her wrist, and she was changed into an outfit more suiting for the adventure.
 

Angus grabbed her as soon as they shut the door behind them. “You be careful, Maggie.”
 

The order was filled with love. Maggie’s chest felt tight. She rose to her tiptoes and kissed him.
 

“You too. Make sure you’re a good lookout and we’ll be fine.”
 

Maggie hurried down the hall as Angus led the way. She sent out a silent message to Meg telling her they were safe as she waved her hand toward the security cameras. The guards watching would only see a blimp, then the same scene they had seen all night. No one would know she and Angus had been in the house.
 

She made it to the viewing room with no problem. As she manipulated the codes, Angus stood there keeping an eye out. His nerves were starting to get to her.
 

“Angus, love, please, stop sending out so many horrible thoughts. I have to concentrate and when you are thinking we are all going to die, it doesn’t help.”
 

“Sorry.”
 

He walked down the hall then back again. “Did you think it was too easy to get in here?”
 

“No. There are guards watching the dinner guests. The security cameras, along with the alarms, should alert them.”
 

“Doesn’t say much for Morin that he set the alarms after his guests went to eat.”
 

“Rich people rarely trust,” she said as she broke the final code. Maggie felt the electronic surveillance dissolve and smiled.
 

“Let’s go, hot stuff. We have a sapphire to grab.”
 

She walked into the room and found the sapphire exactly where it had been before. It was right where it had been an hour earlier. She grabbed it, then stuffed it in her pocket. Silently, she conjured a spell that would keep it hidden from view at least until they got back to the apartment.
 

She looked at her husband. “Let’s go, McLennan. We have done our job.”
 

*  *  *  *
 

Meg looked out over Paris and sighed. This terrace had a better view than her apartment. She had missed looking at Paris like this. Even as the temperatures had dipped, she could enjoy the scenery.
 

“You think I am heartless,” Pierre said.
 

She lifted a glass of champagne and sipped. “What an interesting way to start a conversation.”
 

He said nothing at first so she looked at him. Pierre was still an attractive man, but she knew what was beneath that polished exterior. A man who loved her would know she would never steal from him.
 

“No, I do not.”
 

“Is it not true?” he asked.
 

His whiney tone irritated her. She didn’t want a whiney toddler to appease. She wanted a man.
 

“I think you were a mistake.” She took another drink of champagne. “A big one.”
 

“And, what about now? What are you doing now?”
 

This conversation was making no sense at all to her. “What do you mean?”
 

“If we did not know each other, would you actually leave with Lennon tonight?”
 

For a second, she didn’t know who he was talking about. Then it hit her he was using the assumed name for the Clan. She had gotten so accustomed to using their true name, she sometimes forgot that others did not know it.
 

“Yes, I would. I love him.”
 

He scoffed at that. “A woman like you cannot love.”
 

She felt the pierce to her heart. How could this man she didn’t care about hurt her so much? Why did she care what he thought?
 

But, she had to make sure he didn’t know he hurt her…that she was above him. “I do have the capacity to love.”
 

He scoffed. “I say this to save you from pain later on. We are not so different, you and I.”
 

She sipped at her champagne and looked out over Paris. It was one of her favorite places in the world, or it had been her favorite not that long ago. Suddenly, though, she found herself yearning for the quiet mountains and slower pace of Scotland.
 

“Meghan?”
 

She turned to face him. The years had been kind to him. In fact, he was more attractive now than he had been when she met him. Life was not very fair to women.
 

“We are not the same, Pierre. I thought we were at one time…” she shrugged, letting him finish the sentence for himself.
 

She felt his irritation. It lashed out at her before he could contain it. The bastard actually thought he could use a few lines to get her to turn her back on the man she professed to love? She must have been so easy and desperate before.
 

He skimmed a finger over her bare back and she stepped away. “You do not have the right to touch me. Not anymore.”
 

“Is that so?” he asked, his voice dipping, his accent thickening.
 

The bastard really thought she would throw aside Logan. He really didn’t think much of her, did he?
 

“I believe it stopped the day you left me in that damned cell. You turned your back on me.”
 

“It was a mistake.”
 

Was he insane? Or were the women in his life just that pathetic?
 

“We are not allowed mistakes of that magnitude in life. Not without consequences.”
 

 He opened his mouth, but there was a shout from within the house. They both turned as a loud roar sounded then alarms went off. Armand ran out onto the terrace, his dark brown eyes bulging and his face pale.
 

“Mr. Morin, it’s gone.”
 

Pierre shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
 

“The sapphire is missing. Vanished.”