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With the help of a bet, a 800 year-old marriage contract, and a spell, ex-SBS solider Will might just have enough in his arsenal to capture Meghan's heart.
Since arriving in Little Glen, Scotland, Meghan Kennedy's life has gotten decidedly more interesting. She entered into a bet with hunky ex-SBS soldier, Will, betting him that she would not fall in love with him. She discovered an ancient marriage Contract specifically designed to join her family to Will's and to top it all off, she learns that she had a spell cast on her…800 years before she was even born. None of it mattered, because she refused to make the same mistake twice.
Will's hard body and sexy grin didn't matter, his beautiful hypnotic eyes didn't matter, and it didn't matter that every time they kissed her body would call out for his, as though denied his touch for hundreds of years.
Ex-SBS soldier William Mackenzie is disciplined, trained to be an efficient solider and he takes the same approach with his business, and life. Then Meghan arrived, with her fiery temper and hair to match, and he knows she is lying about the reasons why she came to Little Glen, he just doesn't care.
All he does care about is Meghan. Her feisty temper bemuses him, her beauty astounds him and her stubbornness annoys the hell out of him. Lucky for him, he doesn't know how to quit, he can be just as stubborn and occasionally ruthless, and he will use any means necessary to get her. Of course the ‘means' at his disposal just happen to be a bet, a marriage contract and an ancient spell, but if in the end Meghan belongs to him, who was he to argue.
General Release Date: 10th May 2013
The Bannockburn Spell
Toronto, Present Day
"I followed her to the airport. She won’t make a scene here."
Narrowing his grey eyes, Rob followed as ‘she’ wheeled her luggage into the terminal.
Meghan. Damn, she looks good. Real good. Not that she ever looked bad. She had this unique pull over him that he still couldn’t figure out. He watched her ass sway seductively as she made her way through the terminal. There was something different about her since the last time he had seen her. Her red head was held high, her shoulders were back, and her stride was determined. Confidence. It was radiating from her. He hadn’t seen that side in a while, not since he had broken it.
"Are you sure you can get it, Robert?"
He cringed. Normally he loved talking to a woman who had a deep sultry voice. Add in an accent, any accent and it made her all that more appealing. Yet every time this woman spoke to him, a cold shiver ran through him causing the hair on his neck and arms to stand up.
Emily Alexsandrov. Her name conjured visions of a little girl with long blonde ringlets and big blue eyes, skipping happily along with a giant lollipop.
The vision shattered when he met her in person. A classic Eastern European beauty, she was the epitome of sex. Tall and slender, with straight brown hair and the lightest green eyes, she had a body that left most men either drooling or running for cover. Her appearance, however, was only the tip of a sharpened blade.
As well as speaking five different languages, Emily also had a degree in business, and contacts—business and personal—in almost every country in the world. And to keep that blade sharp, she was the new head of the Alexsandrov crime family. The same family his father was partners with and the same family he owed a very large sum of money to. And now that he was out on parole they wanted to collect.
"I said I could, didn’t I?" he snapped into the cell, then quickly caught himself. "I told you, she carries it everywhere with her."
There was a long pause before Emily purred into the phone, "Just remember, Robert, there is more than one type of interest."
"I remember." Did he ever. Christ, he could still hear the screams. Emily had had her favourite associate Ivan show him first-hand what other methods of interest would be collected if he failed to deliver payment. "I’ll call you when I have it."
He flipped his phone shut. "Bitch," he muttered, trailing behind Meghan as she approached the security gates for international flights.
International? Where the hell was she going? He had to get it now. There wouldn’t be another chance once she passed through security.
"Shit!" Where were the long lines that normally snaked through the Toronto airport? He watched as she passed through the metal detector, unaware that he was so close to her.
Now! It had to be now! He moved towards the metal detector, squeezing past a few other passengers, when a very large boarding agent blocked his path. "Your boarding pass and identification, please, sir."
"I don’t need one. I just need to speak with that woman." He pointed.
"I’m sorry, sir, you must have a boarding pass," the man informed him in a curt tone.
He watched as she collected her carry-on bag and began to walk away.
"Fuck!" he gritted out between clenched teeth.
"Sir!" the agent said loud enough to draw unwanted attention. "You’ll have to leave this area, or I’ll be forced to call airport security."
Raising his hands, he slowly backed away from the security gate. He stood staring after her, clenching his hands into tight fists.
He had spent two years of his life stealing back the money he had gambled away. Two years of finding the right women with the right bank accounts, and now he could end up with a bullet in his head all because Meghan was taking a fucking holiday.
There was a light snap as he squeezes his cell. He brought the cell up and looked at it, then without thinking, he flipped it open, and typed out a message.
Once he located her red head, he waited to see her reaction. She slowed her pace as she read the message but continued towards her gate.
Wanting to slam his fist into something, he pounded in another text and locked his eyes on her once again.
She stopped this time, staring down at her phone. Then she slowly lifted her head and studied the other passengers.
Squeezing his teeth together he typed in one last message.
‘I’ll B waiting 4 U Meghan.’
He watched as she disappeared from his sight. Before leaving he stopped briefly at the Departures monitor and scanned the list of flights, stopping on Edinburgh. Her parents were Scottish and he recalled her mentioning something about wanting to visit her grandfather. She had a personal connection to Edinburgh. The big question was how long would this holiday last? He didn’t have a lot of time but he was confident that she wouldn’t be away for long. He had witnessed the love she had for her family and friends, she had told him how she needed them in her life. No. This trip wouldn’t be long.
Two weeks. He would give her two weeks and if she wasn’t back by then, he would find a way to get her back.
* * * *
Edinburgh, Scotland
"I can’t believe I let you talk me into this."
"Stop bitching. It’s not going to hurt you to take a vacation."
"Vacation!" Meghan snorted into the phone. "You call getting chased out of my home, my work and my country a vacation?"
Ryan laughed into the phone.
She loved to hear him laugh and it wasn’t because he was her little brother, but because his laugh always made her smile.
"This was the easiest way. Now I can hunt that prick down and not have to worry about you in the process. Besides location, what else is going to change? You’ll be with family, Dad is just a younger version of Duncan and as long as you have your laptop you can work anywhere. On top of that, it can be a vacation."
"I’ll miss shopping and my friends." She pouted. "I’ll miss shopping with my friends. Who am I kidding. I’ll just miss the shopping."
Ryan chuckled. "Your friends want this as much as I do and I’m sure you’ll get your chance to hit the stores over there." There was a brief pause. "Duncan is excited to see you. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him."
"Same amount of time as you." She bumped into a man who stopped in front of her. She mouthed a ‘sorry’ and continued to search for her flight’s luggage carousel.
"I know. But I can’t get away right now. I have to reopen my case on your ex."
"I’m sorry, Ryan." She bumped someone else. This time it was a woman from her flight, the one with the little boy who had kept giggling at a movie she had put on for him. She smiled her apology and worked her way around to the far side of the carousel where only a few people stood waiting. "I never thought Rob would come out of jail ready to hunt me down."
"I know." Ryan sighed. "I didn’t mean anything by it. Hey, I’ve got a long list of people that want you to email them once you’re settled. Number one being Mum."
"I will," she promised.
"Listen, I have to catch my Captain before he leaves so I can fill him in. When I have something I’ll email."
"Okay." She rubbed her temple. "God, I sound so pathetic," she mumbled into the phone. It wasn’t like she wasn’t going to see him again. This relocation was only temporary.
"Aww! I’ll miss you too, big sis," Ryan teased.
"Shut up!" she mumbled jokingly, ending the call with Ryan laughing on the other end.
Will had three main priorities—home, shower and bed. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Damn, he was tired.
Offering himself up to be a chauffeur to Duncan’s granddaughter hadn’t seemed like a bad idea at the time. Yet after the week he’d had in Spain, entertaining a tourist for a few hours was not at the top of his list, no matter who her grandfather was. Regardless, he had agreed to pick up Meghan, and his pride would never allow him to back out of an agreement.
With his laptop case in one hand and his tote bag slung over his shoulder, he dodged the numerous travellers making their way through the customs area as he focused on the goal at hand—picking up and dropping off Duncan’s granddaughter. If they timed it right they would be able to collect her bags, get through customs and get on the road in a little under an hour, assuming the lines were short and Meghan didn’t hold him up.
Except Meghan was a city girl. He cringed. Maybe an hour and a half.
The baggage area was packed with people trying to retrieve their luggage. He glanced up at the Arrival screens. Her flight had arrived early. Perfect, he might able to get underway sooner than expected.
He strode into the crowd huddled around the baggage carousels and scanned the area. Red hair and green eyes. Bloody hell, this was Scotland, every third person had red hair. Fortunately, not many people on the flight from Toronto had red hair. Two so far and both women. One, talking on a cell on the other side of the carousel. The other stood just in front of him with a luggage cart full of bright pink bags and she was still scanning the carousel.
Will groaned and changed his timing to at least an hour before they started for Little Glen. Stepping up beside the redhead closest to him, he noticed her flawless make-up, and how not one strand of her hair was out of place. The words ‘high maintenance’ rang out in his head. Not his type. He thanked God then cleared his throat. "Meghan Kennedy?"
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