Grace Under Fire (Buchanan-Renard #14 )

Tomorrow they had another meeting with Gladstone, who had told Isabel he would have preliminary papers ready to go over. The meeting was set for four P.M.

An hour after the scene at the pub, Isabel was ready for bed, but she couldn’t unwind. She was too revved up to sleep just yet. She thought about turning on her phone to check her emails and texts, but she couldn’t make herself do it. She hated answering emails and texts almost as much as she hated talking on the phone. Realizing just how much she disliked the interruption actually made her smile. In high school her cell phone had been attached to her ear. It was the first thing she grabbed in the morning and the last thing she put away at night, but by the end of her college days she had developed a real dislike for the interruption of answering a call. She had certainly changed over the years.

“You look happy. What were you thinking?” Michael asked. He had just finished his shower and his hair was wet. She watched him turn off all the lights but her bedside lamp. He stretched out on the bed next to her, stacked his hands on his chest, and closed his eyes.

“I was thinking about phones. I realized that, except for a quick call tonight, I haven’t turned my cell phone on for days. I put it in my charger every night, and every morning I put it in my purse, but I don’t turn it on. It’s been pleasant.”

“I didn’t want you to turn it on because they could track us, but now that everyone knows we’re here, it doesn’t matter if it’s on.”

“I haven’t missed it.”

“That’s nice,” Michael said on a yawn.

She knew he would be asleep in seconds. She wished she could do the same.

She saw a side of Michael tonight that shocked and surprised her. She had never seen anyone move as fast. The way he fought and controlled Clive was impressive. She knew he was strong, but seeing him in action was jaw-dropping. His Navy SEAL training came out in full force. He made it look so easy. He was almost nonchalant about it. In fact, he probably didn’t think it was much of a fight at all.

Isabel wasn’t an advocate of ever using violence, but the image of Michael punching Clive was quite gratifying. If anyone needed a good punch, it was him.

“Damn it,” Michael muttered, opening his eyes and rolling toward her.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot your birthday. I’m sorry. Guess it was pretty awful. We’ll have to celebrate later.”

“Awful? It wasn’t awful.”

“Then what was it?”

Once again she pictured Michael’s fist connecting with Clive’s ugly face.

“Best . . . birthday . . . ever.”

He pulled her into his arms. “Yeah? It’s about to get even better.”





THIRTY-THREE

ISABEL COULD NEVER TELL ANYONE WHAT MICHAEL GAVE HER FOR HER BIRTHDAY. TO SAY HIS

“gift” was X-rated was an understatement. She didn’t wake up until nine. She sat up in bed, her hair hanging in her face. She brushed it over her shoulder and found Michael across the room. He was working on his laptop.

He didn’t look up. “Good morning.”

He was dressed and ready to go. “How long have you been up?” she asked. Her voice was as croaky as a frog’s.

“A couple of hours. Get moving,” he said.

“Yes, all right.” She continued to sit there, staring off into space.

Isabel closed her eyes, and after a minute or two Michael realized she had gone back to sleep.

Sitting up, no less.

His laughter startled her. She wanted to curl up and go back to sleep for a couple of hours, but she knew she couldn’t. With a groan she slid out of bed and went into the bathroom.

After dressing, she returned to the bedroom to find Michael still on his laptop. She watched him reading the screen for several minutes and then said, “I thought you were in a hurry to leave.”

“I was just checking our route to Inverness. I booked our flight to Boston, and we need to be at the airport by five tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? You want to fly back to Boston tomorrow?” She hadn’t expected his abrupt announcement. “Couldn’t we stay an extra day or two? I like it here. There’s so much I want to see.”

“No.”

No? The refusal came a little too quickly. “I know you want to get back to your life . . . ,” she began.

“Yes, I do.”

His curt response made her angry, but she was determined to stay calm, and yelling wouldn’t accomplish anything. She began to straighten the room just to have something to do while she worked on getting her emotions under control.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m making the bed.”

“The maids will strip the sheets,” he said.

“I know.”

She didn’t say another word until she had finished the task. Okay, her temper was under control, and her breathing was normal again. “Now that Clive Harcus is locked up, there isn’t any reason to be worried about my safety. You go ahead and fly home. I’m going to stay here awhile longer.”

Michael tried to be reasonable. “What about all of Clive’s friends? You think they won’t come after you?” Before she could think of a logical answer, he said, “A lot of people don’t want you to ruin their plans for Glen MacKenna, and aside from that obvious threat, there’s also the fact that you’re a celebrity.”

“What does that matter?”

“You don’t remember what it was like getting out of the arena in Boston?”

Oh yes, she remembered. It would have been terrifying if Michael hadn’t been with her. “Not all that many people know who I am,” she argued.

“You’re wrong. They know who you are. They just haven’t been able to find out where you are, and that’s because of all the help we’ve gotten from Nick and Alec and Noah with cars and hotels . . .”

“I can handle a crowd.” It was a blatant lie, but she thought she told it well.

Exasperated, he said, “They’d run right over you. I’m not going back to Boston without you. It isn’t safe for you here. You’re going home with me.”

He walked over to her, tilted her chin up so she would look at him, and softened his tone. “Do you honestly believe I would leave you?”

He didn’t give her time to answer. He leaned down and kissed her. When he pulled away, she looked a little dazed.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll stop at the front desk and let them know we’ll be staying one more night.”

She grabbed her rain jacket, shoved her wallet into a pocket and zipped it closed, put her cell phone in her pants pocket, and followed him out the door.

? ? ?

IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL DAY. THE SUN WAS OUT, BUT ISABEL KNEW RAIN CLOUDS COULD SNEAK

in at any time. The weather was fickle in the Highlands, but—hot, cold, wet, dry—it didn’t matter to her. She still loved it.

“I’ve read books about this country, and I’ve seen hundreds of photos, but nothing compares to actually being here.”

She was leading up to making him understand why she wanted to stay. He cut her off.

“Then we’ll come back.”

She was surprised that he had included himself. “It would be nice to roam around without people trying to kill me.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I guess that would be nice.”

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