Chapter 20

Joanna glanced up and down the double rows of twelve-foot-long tables in MacDara Keep’s formal clan dining room. She’d never eaten in this room before, a room that was more the size of a high school gymnasium than a formal dining room. Grant had told her this room had been fashioned after the great halls where the chieftain would hold audiences with his clan to settle grievances or see to the general well-being of his people.

Usually, when she’d dined with all the MacDaras, they ate in the much smaller dining room adjoining the keep’s commercially equipped kitchen on the first floor or when it was just a few family members, they ate at the table in the smaller kitchen on the second floor. Two kitchens, and all I ever use is a microwave. Joanna pulled in a deep breath, blew it out, and continued to allow her gaze to flit about the room. The last thing she felt like doing right now was attending engagement celebrations. She had a lot on her mind and if she decided to take the extremely lucrative job—and she’d pretty much decided she was going to—she had to figure out how to sugarcoat the idea to get Grant to swallow it.

She resettled herself on the long bench, trying to maintain the appearance of being happy to be there instead of being distracted by the shit storm of possibilities that Lilian Tasker had offered. The entire MacDara clan was in attendance, as well as Dwyn MacKay, Taggart MacClendon, several members of his clan, and Lucia and Tyler. All those considered to be family. The engagement party had been the official announcement to the public. This meal was a more personal celebration of Grant and Joanna’s pending nuptials and the possibility of Lucia and Taggart becoming an “officially wooing,” as Grant had put it, couple.

“Are ye unwell this evenin’, lass?” From across the table and down several seats, Grant’s mother stretched up like a prairie dog looking out across the plains and directed her frown at Joanna’s untouched plate. Sarinda pointed her fork full of meat at her son. “What did ye do now?” She shook the utensil at him as though about to spear him with it. “Out with it, boy. What have ye done to upset this fine sweet lass who obviously possesses the patience of a saint t’put up with yer worrisome ways?”

“ ’Tis a cursed man who has a mother so ready to condemn him.”

“I know men,” Sarinda replied. “Now, what did ye do?”

Grant lifted both hands as though fending off an attack. “I’ve no’ done anything that I ken. I just got back from Riverview and came straight here.” He reached over and gently touched Joanna’s arm. “What ails ye, dear one? Are ye unwell again?” He leaned closer and lowered his voice to a whisper that still traveled well down the table, judging from the looks on several faces. “Are ye with child? Lucia said ye might be. Dare I hope ’tis true?”

Lucia exploded into a fit of coughing, her silverware rattling to the table as she dropped her knife and fork to clasp both hands to her chest.

Joanna gave her friend a dirty look and silently mouthed, Really?

Lucia responded with a wide-eyed what the hell was I supposed to tell him look in return.

“Lass?” Grant prodded in a louder voice that sounded altogether too hopeful.

Without looking at Grant, Joanna rested one hand on his forearm and smiled at Sarinda. “I’m fine—just not hungry tonight.” She turned and faced Grant. “And I’m definitely not pregnant.”

Visibly disappointed, Grant straightened and returned his attention to the succulent slab of prime rib on his plate. “Ah well…I suppose there’s plenty of time for children.” He looked up and gave a knowing wink to his brother Alec, seated farther down the table. “All the more time for the tryin’, eh brother?”

Alec grinned as he reached over and lovingly settled his hand atop his wife, Sadie’s, slightly rounding stomach and pecked a quick kiss to her cheek. “Aye, brother. There’s definitely something t’be said for all the tryin’.”

Sarinda rapped the handle of her knife hard against the table. “I’ll have no such talk at this table. Shame on the both of ye. Dinna think that just because ye’ve got women of yer own that yer free to lose yer manners. If they willna box yer ears, I’ll be more than happy t’handle the job.”

Sitting to Sarinda’s immediate left, younger brother Ramsay quietly chuckled and promptly received a backhanded smack hard across the chest.

“And dinna ye start. I canna believe my sons are behavin’ in such a way—not when we have guests.” Sarinda underscored her warning with a narrow-eyed glare at each of her sons. She didn’t include her husband Emrys in her warning look. The elderly chieftain was too absorbed in his meal to even realize where he was. Her features softened as she looked back at Joanna. “After dinner, come to the upstairs kitchen. I’ve an herbal-laced brandy, a fine digestif that’s guaranteed to settle yer stomach.”

“Thank you. I will.” Joanna made a show of sliding the food around on her plate to make it look as though she’d decided to eat. Time to get out of the spotlight. “By the way, Ramsay, where’s your lady this evening? Grant said I was finally going to get to meet her.”

“Ramsay’s beloved is much too busy to dine with his lowly family.” Grant made a noise that sounded something like a cross between a spitting snort and a growl. “We’re no’ important or exciting enough for such an upper-class lass with so many parties in the city to attend.” He repeated the sound of disgust as he returned to cutting his meat. “I’d bet my best dagger the woman is a money-grubbin’ Brit at heart—intent t’ruin us.”

“Enough, brother, or we’ll be takin’ this outside.” Ramsay slowly put down his knife and fork and planted both hands on the table in preparation of launching himself up from the bench.

Oh shit. Wrong tactic to get out of the spotlight. Joanna quickly stood and maneuvered her way off the bench running the length of the table. “Suddenly, I don’t feel that well at all. I must have a bug or something.” She fanned herself with one hand, then turned and latched hold of Lucia’s sleeve. She needed to talk to someone about the meeting with Lilian Tasker before she exploded or caused a serious split in the MacDara clan by saying the wrong thing. “Come with me, Lucia. You’re pretty good at mixing up herbal remedies and I don’t want to take Sarinda away from all her guests.”

Lucia’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit, signifying that she understood completely. “Come on, Tyler. You can have dessert early while I doctor up Auntie Jo.”

Grant stood, genuine concern shadowing his features. “I’ll go as well. I dinna like that ye’ve been unwell ever since…” He stalled for a moment. “Ever since our exploring of the caves.”

Oh hell no. Think fast. “No. No, stay here with our guests.” She looked around the room at everyone, giving them all an apologetic nod. “I’m so sorry for having to excuse myself early. Thank you all so very much for coming, and please do carry on.”

One of the MacClendon clan stood and lifted his cup. “To the joining of Grant and Joanna. May it be blessed with love, laughter, and many sons. Slainte!” The hall echoed with cheers, clinking mugs, and stomping.

Joanna smiled until her cheeks ached, all the while backing toward the exit. “Thank you all,” she said again. “Thank you so much.” She frantically motioned for Lucia to follow. Come on. Will you?

Lucia turned to her son. “Come on, T.”

“I wanna stay here with the men, Mom.” Tyler sat up straighter and thumped his chest with his fist.

“Leave the boy with me, lass,” Taggart said with the smile of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. “He’s a fine lad and always welcome among the MacClendon clan.”

Aww…yay. A warm flush of happiness for Lucia flooded through Joanna but was then quickly shoved out of the way by her mounting anxiety. “Uhm…Lucia? Now?” She hated to ruin the moment, but Taggart and Lucia could pick this back up as soon as she’d had a long heart-to-heart with Lucia to figure out what the hell to do.

Lucia shooed her onward. “Right behind you, sweets. I’ll have you feeling better in no time.” As soon as they’d walked through the archway of the upstairs kitchen, Lucia started in. “You’re as nervous as a whore in church. What the hell happened at that meeting?”

“Keep your voice down.” Joanna motioned Lucia to the far end of the kitchen, all the while watching the entrance to make sure no one had followed. Hugging her middle as she leaned back against the counter, she clenched her fisted hands so tightly her nails dug into her palms. “She offered me a job.”

“She what?”

“A job.” Joanna swallowed hard, the feigned nausea suddenly becoming quite real. “While we’re in here, go ahead and mix up something for my upset stomach, will you? I’m about to blow chunks.”

Lucia stared at her in open-mouthed disbelief. “I don’t know anything about making homemade no-puke medicine and you know it. I might have some antacid tablets in my purse, but it’s downstairs. Do you really want me to risk it?”

Joanna shook her head, sucked in a deep breath, and slowly released it out her nose. “No. I’ll tough it out.”

“Good. Now get to the job offer. What kind of job? Scrubbing her toilets with your thumbnails or something? The woman hates you.” Lucia pulled out a chair at the table and slid into it.

“Actually, she doesn’t,” Joanna replied, still unable to quite believe that fact herself. She joined Lucia at the table and sagged into a chair. “She believed me when I apologized and told her that I had no idea that Matthew was married and had children. It appears that I wasn’t his first…” Joanna paused. How had Lillian phrased it? Oh yeah. “His first dalliance,” she finished with a slow bobbing of her head.

“So she offered you a job. What job?”

“CEO of Asclepius Pharmaceuticals.”

“Seriously?” Lucia leaned forward, rapt interest arching her brows.

“Seriously.” Joanna laced her fingers together and propped her clasped hands on the table. “And the follow-up email she sent listed a healthy six-figure starting salary, quarterly bonuses, stock options, paid vacation, and even more benefits than I ever dreamed could exist.”

Lucia frowned, tilting her head as though trying to sort out a problem. “Wait. What happened to your old boss? Wasn’t he CEO?”

“It appears his dishonesty reached a level that even big business couldn’t accept.” Joanna couldn’t help the feeling of satisfaction making her smile. “It’s my understanding that he’s checked into the penitentiary for an extended stay. He’s booked a room in the embezzlement and drug-running wing and it doesn’t have much of a view.”

Wow. Lucia didn’t say the word aloud, but Joanna easily read her lips.

“Exactly.” Joanna leaned back in the chair and dropped her hands into her lap. “Karma finally decided to kick in.” She took a deep breath and felt her mood slip back to the confused dark mess of earlier. “I haven’t sent her my reply yet. I was going to do it tonight after I talked it over with you.” She reached out and grabbed hold of Lucia’s hands. “You’ve always been my sounding board and helped me figure things out. So…what do you think?”

“I think I’m not the one you should be talking to,” Lucia answered in a quiet voice that triggered Joanna’s guilt reflex. “How are you going to have a life here with Grant and be CEO to a company based in Chicago?”

“That was my question as well.” Grant stood in the archway, jaw clenched and feet widespread as though he was about to charge into battle.

I’ve always heard the term “blood running cold.” Now I know how it feels. Joanna opened her mouth to speak but didn’t know what the hell to say. I am so busted.

“You’re on your own, chica.” Lucia rose, pushed her chair back under the table, and hurried out of the room.

Grant didn’t say a word, just stood in the doorway glaring at her. But then again, he didn’t have to speak. The way he held himself, shoulders thrown back, arms clenched across his broad chest, a scowl so dark that Joanna expected to see lightning flash around him and hear thunder—all those things conveyed his mood more accurately than any words.

So much for sugarcoating. She scooted her chair closer to the table, clasped her hands in a tight knot, and focused on her thumbs. No way could she talk if she looked at Grant. And so it begins. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough.” Grant settled his stance, widening his feet as if to more effectively block the only exit from the room. “Ye’ll be tellin’ the woman no. Aye?”

Joanna wet her lips, rapidly sorting through all the selling points she’d planned on using. “Actually—no.” She forced a smile, lifted her head, and met his gaze. “I’d planned to accept it. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Grant glared at her, the muscles of his jaw rippling. He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out. “I disagree.” He stepped forward slowly, eyes narrowing. “Ye’ll be tellin’ the woman no. This verra evenin’, ye ken?”

All the demons from her past, the ones she kept securely locked away, broke free and brought back all the fires of her personal levels of hell with them. She pushed back from the table and stood, knotting her fists at her sides to keep from grabbing the heavy ceramic plates and mugs from the open shelving at her back and lobbing them at Grant’s head. “I won’t be talked to that way, Grant. Not now. Now ever.”

“What the hell d’ye expect me t’say? Godspeed and safe travels to ye?”

Joanna stepped out from behind the table, forcing herself to remain calm. “I expect you to hear me out and listen. I have a plan.” He’s not Dad. He’s not Matthew. She repeated the words over and over. Stay calm. Give him a chance to come around.

“A plan?”

Even though his words came out in what sounded more like a growl, Joanna wasn’t afraid. All she saw in Grant’s eyes was pain—and maybe a little fear.

“Did yer friend help ye with what ails ye?” Sarinda asked as she burst into the room.

“Not bloody well likely, Máthair.” Grant turned back to Joanna. “We have much to discuss—but not here.”

Joanna nodded. “Right.” She hurried past Sarinda and Grant, then paused at the top of the steps leading down to the family’s private entrance to the keep. “I’ll be in the Jeep. We’ll talk more at home.”

“Aye. At home.”