Page 11 of Edinburgh Escape (Brotherhood Protectors International #5)

Callum stood on the other side of the bathroom door, his hand on the doorknob, his pulse pounding through his veins.

When he’d heard the water come on, he’d gravitated toward the door, imagining Maggie standing beneath the spray, naked, her fiery curls hanging down around her shoulders and over her breasts.

When she’d moaned, Callum’s cock had throbbed, fully erect, hot and thick. He’d almost shoved the door open and joined her in the shower.

And what would that get him?

A slap in the face would be the least of his problems. She’d likely scream like a banshee and demand he leave her and the flat. Then she’d be on the phone to Hank, asking for a replacement protector, one who wouldn’t attack his client in the shower.

The beauty had enough problems without him adding to them.

He released the doorknob and returned to the small kitchen, determined to keep his distance from Maggie.

It was one thing to let her sleep in his arms on the train and to kiss her eyelids and forehead before she was completely awake.

Pangs of guilt still reverberated through him.

He’d been out of line to do even that. Molesting her in the shower was out of the question.

He’d never taken an unwilling woman. Women usually came to him willingly.

Hands off was the best way to handle Maggie McKendrick. Her day had been traumatic enough and would be even more so before it was over.

Callum gathered the bread and cheese and went to work, preparing sustenance.

They hadn’t eaten since the day before. His belly rumbled in protest. Maggie had to be hungry as well.

Thoughts of the red-haired beauty made him pause in the middle of cutting slices of cheese.

He still reeled from the sudden and intense surge of desire that had almost overwhelmed him.

Since his return from Syria, he hadn’t felt that kind of desire.

Hell, he’d never felt desire of this intensity ever. Not with any woman he’d dated.

Why now?

Why her?

Because she was spunky. She was optimistic, embracing new experiences with open arms. Everything he wasn’t and hadn’t been for a long time.

He found himself wanting to run his hands through her glorious copper curls and down the length of her body, touching every inch of her silky skin as if by doing so he could erase all the ugliness and brutality he’d witnessed during his time in the military.

Her green eyes twinkled with excitement and curiosity, reminding Callum that life went on even after he’d lost so many friends.

She made him feel as if he could breathe again, as if the weight of his losses that had been pressing against his chest had lifted just a little.

She’d lost her mother recently, yet she’d eagerly boarded a plane and flown to a foreign country, hoping to connect with people who shared her DNA.

Innocently hopeful of finding family. Naively assuming they might want her to be part of theirs.

Callum couldn’t fault her enthusiasm and her desire for connection and love. It was who she was. As he’d sat so still on the train, with her in his arms, he’d realized what he was missing and what she provided.

Maggie brought light into the darkness of his soul.

An image of the big man who’d attacked her at the train station flashed through his mind, dimming that light. If Callum hadn’t been there, that man could have killed her with his bare hands or thrown her on the train tracks for the train to do the job.

Maggie was a sweet, kindhearted school teacher, for God’s sake.

She deserved to have a long, happy life filled with love, laughter and children, with her bright red hair and sunny disposition.

The more Callum learned about her relatives, the more he was convinced someone didn’t want her to make it to the Drummond estate—or worse, wanted to ensure she didn’t claim any inheritance left by the late Lord Drummond.

Perhaps she’d be better off returning to Montana.

Unfortunately, Callum wasn’t certain her troubles would be over if she retreated.

She’d still be a target as long as she was alive.

His jaw clenched, and his shoulders straightened. It was his duty to do everything in his power to keep her alive. He had to find the one, or ones, responsible for putting her in danger.

Callum’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He dug it out and read the name across the screen.

Ace Hammerson.

“This is McCall,” he answered and put the call on speaker so that he could continue to prepare food while he listened and talked.

Without preamble, Ace said, “Hank and Swede filled me in on what’s going on with Ms. McKendrick. I have Peter Atkins, one of our protectors based out of London, on standby in case you need him. You might know him from your days in the SAS.”

Callum was impressed by how well the Brotherhood Protectors communicated with each other—another reason to sign on with them. “I do. We deployed together back when I was fresh out of training. He’s a decent sort. I’ll keep him in mind.”

“Do you have a plan going forward with Ms. McKendrick?”

“I do,” Callum said. “I’ll accompany her to her meeting with the Drummonds under the cover of being either her boyfriend, fiancé or travel companion. Where she goes, I’ll go.”

“Good,” Ace said. “Given the information Swede found, the Drummonds might have invited her there for nefarious purposes.”

“My thoughts as well. Especially, considering she was the product of an affair between her mother and Lord Drummond.”

“Drummond’s sons might harbor resentment toward Ms. McKendrick.”

“Well, one of them is only five years old, but you’re right. I’ll be with her at all times, monitoring the situation. If anyone show signs of aggression, I’ll get her out.” He couldn’t imagine they’d openly attack Maggie, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Roger,” Ace said. “Glad to have you aboard as a Brotherhood Protector. Besides Swede, we have our own technical support, a computer guru here in Zurich. Dmytro is a jack-of-all-trades who has contacts throughout Europe and the UK. You need weapons, he’s the one who can set you up.

Air transport? He’s your man. He can fly airplanes and helicopters, or knows people who can do it for him.

Ms. Monroe, our blue-haired cyberpunk technophile, can bleed information out of the tightest firewall.

Between Swede and my crew here, we’ll have everything you need to know about the members of the Drummond clan.

Hopefully, by the end of the day. I’m sending contact information for Atkins, Dmytro and Monroe now. ”

“Brilliant.” A text message pinged on Callum’s cell phone. He checked the incoming message and saved the data to his contacts. “Received. I’m not sure how long we’ll be at the estate. If I have it my way, we’ll only be there an hour, at the most.”

“Either way, send us a GPS coordinate,” Ace said. “If you two go missing, we’ll know where to start the search.”

“I don’t plan on going missing, but I’ll send that location in case I need backup.”

“You’re not in Afghanistan, Iraq or Syria battling Taliban or ISIS,” Ace said. “But what you do as a Brotherhood Protector is important and often dangerous. Granted, bodyguard duty isn’t always glamorous and is often boring, but we’ve learned that just when you think it’s easy...it’s not.”

Callum’s lips twisted. He’d already learned that lesson at Maggie’s expense. He wouldn’t be caught off guard again, if he could help it. “Understood.”

“We’re here for you twenty-four-seven. Stay safe. Hammerson out,” Ace said and ended the call.

Callum’s blood heated as movement drew his attention to the kitchen entrance.

Maggie stood there with her hair wrapped in a towel, wearing the short pajama bottoms she’d had on when she’d stepped off the train to find out why they’d stopped mid-journey. Instead of the jacket, she wore the matching top to the shorts in a soft pink.

The pajamas normally wouldn’t be considered sexy, more like something a college coed would wear in a dorm room. To Callum, they left enough to the imagination to set his blood on fire.

“Who’s Hammerson?” she asked, forcing him to drag his gaze from her legs to her makeup-free face with her auburn eyebrows framing her green eyes.

“My boss,” Callum responded. With physical effort, he turned back to the bread and cheese he’d cut and placed them on a plate. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” she said, and crossed the room to take the plate from him and set it on the small table in the corner of the kitchen. “Is there anything to drink?”

Callum opened the fridge and grimaced. “Beer.” He moved the bottles around. “More beer.” In the back, he found another bottle and held it up in triumph. “How are you with sparkling water?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had it. But I’m sure it’s better than beer before noon. I’d like to have a clear head when I meet Ewan.”

“Sparkling water it is, then.” He grabbed one of the bottles of beer and carried his finds to the table, where he set them down. Then he held out a chair for Maggie.

She slid into the seat, her shorts riding up high enough to reveal more of her thighs.

Callum twisted the top off the bottle of beer and downed a long swallow before sinking into the seat across from Maggie.

She had unscrewed the cap on the water bottle and took a tentative sip. Her lips curved into a smile. “It tickles like a soda without the flavor. I have friends at the school who swear by sparkling water, only they prefer the flavored kind.” She took another sip. “I like it.”

“You and most of the people in the UK and Europe. If you don’t want the bubbles, ask for still water.”

“I’ll remember that.” Maggie plucked a piece of the bread from the plate and laid a slice of cheese on it. “How does Hammerson fit in with Hank?” She bit into the bread and began to chew.