“So superior, aren’t you?” he said, his voice dripping sarcasm as the smirk played about his lips. “Playing the virtuous little farm girl. Tell me, Maggie, are you just as virtuous with Michael Callaghan? Are you making him wait until you are married? Or are you just another Callaghan whore?”
Maggie’s face flushed crimson as her temper flared. Before she could stop herself her hand drew back and slapped him right across his face. Hard. The resounding crack split through the quaint kitchen like a shotgun blast. Spencer’s smirk vanished instantly as shock temporarily seized him. Maggie took a step back, her eyes huge with disbelief at what she had just done as the expression on Spencer’s face grew dark. Maggie opened her mouth to say something, but the voice they heard was not her own.
“What the hell are you doing here, Dumas?” Ian’s deep voice cut through the kitchen unexpectedly, startling them both. He strode across the room and angled himself protectively in front of Maggie.
“I don’t see that it’s any of your business, Callaghan,” Spencer said, bringing his hand up to the blossoming red stain across his cheek as if he could wipe the sting away. Spencer was tall and fit, but he was still several inches shorter – and narrower – than Ian.
Ian’s eyes narrowed in warning. “Ah, now that’s where you’re wrong.” His voice was whisper soft, but there was no mistaking the threat it held. “Maggie is very much my business.”
“Spencer just stopped by to see how I was, Ian,” Maggie said, wishing her voice hadn’t trembled. Even overseas she hadn’t seen Ian like this. Gone were the roguish smile and laughing eyes, the ever-present air of fun and mischief she’d come to associate with him. Though his stance appeared relaxed, the tightly-coiled tension was impossible to miss as he pinned his gaze on the other man, almost daring Spencer to refute him.
In those few moments she saw Spencer’s mind working furiously, the muscles clenching around his jaw as his hand did at his side. Surely he wasn’t stupid enough to pit himself against Ian, Maggie thought. Even she could see that he wouldn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell. Despite her ire, Maggie actually felt a little sorry for him.
Another quick glance at Ian suggested he was already considering various options for hiding Spencer’s body after he was done with him. Maggie wasn’t particularly fond of Spencer on a good day, and right now he was pretty far down on her shit list, but she had no desire to have his blood on her hands. Or in her kitchen.
“He was just leaving, weren’t you, Spencer?”
The plea in her voice was unmistakable. Spencer’s eyes flicked from Ian to Maggie and back again. Ian’s eyes glowed, the hint of a smile inviting Spencer to contradict her. Probably hoping he would, in fact.
Maggie released the breath she’d been holding when Spencer nodded curtly.
“Excellent,” Ian said. I’ll show you out.”
“Make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into, Maggie,” Spencer warned, shrugging away from Ian’s grasp.
“Don’t worry, Spencer. You taught me that lesson well.”
*
Minutes later, Spencer’s Mercedes pulled around Ian’s SUV and proceeded up the driveway under Ian’s watchful eye. Only once it disappeared from sight did Ian turn to Maggie. “You okay, Mags?”
She exhaled heavily, dropping back into her chair and wiping up the coffee she spilled. “I’m fine.”
She didn’t look fine. The flush was fading quickly, her hands trembling as the adrenalin surge drained away. Ian watched her closely, dialing down his aggression, but his protective instincts remained on full alert. It was more than a chivalrous reaction; he, like his brothers, had become quite fond of her since their return from overseas. Any woman who would fly halfway across the world in the middle of the night for his brother’s sorry ass was more than alright with him. He held no illusions that had Maggie not done what she did, they would have been bringing Michael home in a body bag. She had given Michael the incentive he needed to pull through. Not to mention Lexi adored her.
Inclusion to the inner circle of the Callaghan clan, however, also meant that she was now under the watchful eyes of seven alpha male types – eight, including the family’s patriarch, Jack Callaghan. Michael took great comfort in that, but Maggie was having trouble adjusting. As an only child used to living alone and independently, she no doubt found all the added attention overwhelming sometimes.
Her irritation was evident now. She made no attempt to hide it, stubbornly refusing to meet Ian’s gaze as he studied her. Half of him wanted to give her a high five for standing up for herself; the other half wanted to give her a lecture on personal safety. He ended up doing both.
“Hell of a smack down there, sweetheart. But don’t you know better than to let a man into your home when you’re here by yourself?”
*
Maggie continued to scrub at the table long after the small puddle was gone. Her heart was still thumping against her chest, but it was slowing now. Another few deep breaths ought to do it.