"Hunter? Finlay Hunter?" asked a voice I didn't recognise.

"Who is this?"

The man chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes. This is Alasdair McKendrick. You're a hard man to track down, Mr Hunter. You have a lot of friends protecting you, my boy."

What the h.e.l.l?

Alasdair McKendrick was my father's arch nemesis, and the main man at rival law firm McKendrick Law. Their feud went way back. Why the h.e.l.l was he contacting me? And why so late at night?

Gooseb.u.mps p.r.i.c.kled my skin. "Why are you calling me?"

"I have a proposition for you, and I'd like to arrange to meet you. Face to face. Name the time and place and I will make sure I'm available."

"I don't think there's anything you could possibly propose to me that I would be the slightest bit interested in." My tone was terse and unforgiving. Although, I wasn't sure why. I'd never had any dealings with the man, and the only information I had ever garnered about him had come from the very biased source of my father.

"Come now, Finlay. Aren't you a tiny bit curious to hear what I have to say?"

"Not until I know why you want the meeting in the first place. There's no love lost between you and my father and I'm not sure I trust you either."

He sighed and I noted a sense of disappointment. "That's a wee bit unfair, don't you think? You don't know everything behind the issues your father and I have. Look, I have an urgent matter to be dealt with and I'm aware that you're currently between jobs which means you may be able to a.s.sist me. In fact, I can think of no one better qualified than you. As far as love being lost goes, I'm aware of the rift between you and your father. It's not my intention to exacerbate that situation at all. I simply need someone for an important issue and you come very highly recommended."

Confusion and irritation increased in equal measure deep inside me with every pa.s.sing second, and I scrunched my brow, regardless of the fact that he couldn't see me. "Need someone for what exactly? And hang on, recommended by whom?

"Someone we know mutually, but that's not important right now. What do you say?"

"I say why are you contacting me? Don't you have a team who does all your dirty work for you?"

"I do have a team, Mr Hunter. But I felt it best to converse with you directly on this occasion. Just come and meet with me. We can discuss the details then. Are you free tomorrow? Say eleven at The Balmoral?"

Curiosity got the better of me. But I wondered if I was about to become another dead feline as a result. "Okay. Tomorrow at eleven. The Balmoral." I hung up without saying goodbye.

Star stepped toward me with a look of concern on her face. "That sounded intense."

Still reeling from the call, I shook my head to dislodge the deep unease that had settled on me. "Yes. Yes, very bizarre, in fact. That was someone from a rival law firm wanting to discuss something with me."

Her eyes widened. "Really? Wow. What are you going to do?"

I pursed my lips and exhaled loudly. "I'm going to meet him and see what he has to say for himself. Nothing to lose, I suppose." I shrugged.

She nodded. "Very true but...be careful, okay? Your dad's already p.i.s.sed at you."

I clenched my jaw as my stomach knotted with anger. "My dad fired me, so quite frankly, he can p.i.s.s off," I snapped. She bit her lip and I felt s.h.i.tty for taking my frustration out on her. Reaching out, I cupped her cheek and stepped closer. "Hey, I'm sorry. You're the last one I should be taking out my anger on."

Her responding smile was warm. "It's okay. You're bound to be feeling a little stressed. All you can do is see what he says."

Without another word, I bent and lowered my face to hers, gently brushing her lips with mine. The feel of her mouth yielding to me confirmed that I hadn't offended her with my outburst, and relief spread through my veins, warming my heart. She was special. I could feel it soul deep, but it was too soon to tell her so. She'd think I was bat-s.h.i.t crazy. But the awareness was there all the same. I would bide my time. Take it slow. I couldn't afford to scare her away.

We began walking hand in hand again, and much to my disappointment, we arrived at her home rather too soon. I glanced up at the door and then back at Star, where she stood before me.

"I'd invite you in but..."

"It's okay, Star. I totally understand. I have a long way to go to get you to trust me again."

She gazed up at me with those beautiful big brown eyes of hers, and I tried hard to read her mind.

Her delicious mouth tilted up at the corners. "I think you're doing well so far. Thank you for a lovely evening."

Without thinking, I pulled her into my arms and pressed her against me. I found her mouth with my own and kissed her with all the urgency I was feeling. Her hands slipped up my arms until she grasped at the straggly strands of hair at my nape, kissing me back with just as much fervour. I was becoming addicted to the taste of her kiss. To her body. In fact, I was already there. Our tongues tangled in a hot, wet dance of pa.s.sion, and I slipped my hand down her back as she moaned into my mouth.

G.o.d, I wanted her. I wanted to stay the night and keep talking, keep kissing. But this wasn't just about s.e.x. It was more. It was about being with her.

She pulled away, her breathing ragged and her eyes wide. "I...I should go. If I don't, I'm going to invite you in and I really need to not do that. Not tonight."

Smiling down at her, I was relieved I was affecting her the way she was affecting me. My heart pounded in my chest and I willed my erection to calm before she saw what she was doing to me. Although, I was pretty sure she had probably already felt it as I held her close to me. Thankfully, she kept her gaze locked on mine.

"When can I see you again?" My voice sounded husky and l.u.s.t-filled.

She smiled shyly again. "Soon. Maybe we could meet in a few days? Wednesday maybe? We could go to DeBas.e.m.e.nt." She tilted her head to the side.

The glint in her eyes was irresistible, and the words, "Okay, sounds great," fell from my mouth before I had really thought them through. Oh, well. Too late to back out now. "Can I pick you up again? Say around eight?"

"That'd be great. Um...would you like my number just in case something comes up?"

"s.h.i.t, yeah I would." I bit the inside of my cheek in the hope it would halt my over-enthusiasm. I took my phone out and she reeled off her number for me. I immediately texted her so my number would appear in her phone too.

"Thanks again, Fin. I'll see you Wednesday." She kissed my cheek then unlocked and opened her door.

"Goodnight, Star," I said softly, just before she stepped inside.

Once her door was closed again, I set off back home, my thoughts flitting between the gorgeous girl I'd just left and the bizarre call from McKendrick. What the h.e.l.l could he possibly want with me? To say I was intrigued would have been a major understatement. But I would find out soon enough.

I resolved to put thoughts of my father's enemy to the back of my mind in favour of the more desirable thoughts of Star Mendoza. My American girl. How could I have been so f.u.c.king stupid when I almost lost her from my life? I was so b.l.o.o.d.y lucky she had been willing to give me a second chance. I would have to make sure not to f.u.c.k it up this time.

Fin I gazed down at her naked curves where she lay beneath me. Her eyes sparkled with a combination of desire and happiness. I trailed my fingertips down her tattooed alabaster skin and watched as gooseb.u.mps rose there. Bending forward, I pulled a nipple into my mouth and rolled my tongue around the taut skin as she gasped and dragged her nails down my back. Her legs came around my waist and I sank deep inside her welcoming body. Her hot breath on the skin of my neck sent shivers tingling down my spine, and I slipped my hand under her bottom to pull her even closer...

I awoke at eight the following morning after dreaming about making love to a s.e.xy, tattooed American girl. If only those dreams would come true again soon. I climbed out of bed, remembering I had a meeting to attend at eleven with Alasdair McKendrick. What the h.e.l.l could he possibly want from me? Curiosity still niggled at the back of my mind as I turned on the shower and let the bathroom fill with steam before stepping under the cascade of muscle-melting hot water.

Once I was showered and dressed in my grey slacks and black shirt, and after burning the first lot of toast I put in, I sat down on the couch and flicked on the news. The first story was about an awful, ongoing conflict in the Middle East, but the next story had me almost choking on my breakfast.

There he stood, Campbell Hunter, my dear father, with a big cheesy grin on his face as he announced to the world that, "Economic advancement had prevailed over sentimentality" for the major multi-million-Euro-wielding conglomerate who had just won the right to knock down a street of beautiful old cottages at Inveresk in favour of a cra.s.s new shopping centre. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. It was a case I had been working on prior to my rapid extrication from my job, and I loathed myself for having any part in it. The poor people who owned the cottages had fought tooth and nail against the compulsory purchase order so they could hold on to their beloved homes-homes that in some cases had been in their families for generations-but clearly my father's powers had won out.

Again.

With a gut-wrenching determination, I grabbed my laptop and began to research McKendrick Law. The last thing I wanted was to jump out of the frying pan into the furnace. If I was going to meet him to discover what his proposal entailed then I had to be prepared. And knowledge is power, after all.

At eleven sharp, I was shown through the lavish lobby of the Balmoral Hotel in the city centre, and into a curved, white room with high ceilings, palm trees, and plush furnishings. I had been to dinner at the Balmoral before, but this particular room was new to me. Immediately I wanted to bring Star and made a mental note to book it.

Alasdair McKendrick stood as I approached. I knew of him already and had met him on a couple of official occasions but not socially. He wore a slate grey suit, pale blue shirt, and a bold red, blue and green tartan tie.

"Finlay. Great to see you. Please have a seat."

I shook his hand and took the comfy-looking chair opposite him. A dark wood table separated us, and regardless of his formal business attire, it felt a little like we were two friends simply meeting up for coffee and a chat-only in very sumptuous surroundings.

He looked relaxed and smiled warmly which, in spite of the fact that it probably should have, didn't make me uncomfortable. "What would you like to drink? Are you hungry?"

"Just a coffee, thanks. I have plans for lunch," I lied, figuring I needed a get out plan, just in case.

He called the waiter over and placed an order for a cafetiere and some pet.i.t fours. I scrunched my brow and he chuckled in response.

Leaning forward, he whispered conspiratorially, "I'm not allowed to eat cake at home. My wife, Colette, is a fitness fanatic. It's all about the green tea and lentils." He shivered and made a face which made me smile. Leaning back once again, he continued, "Me, on the other hand, well, I have a sweet tooth and the pet.i.t fours here are to die for. Especially the macaroons. Trust me, you'll love them."

I smiled and shook my head. How could such a powerful man be so down to earth? He was nothing like my tyrant of a father. "So...you wanted to make a proposition." I folded my arms across my chest, very much aware of my defensive motion.

"My goodness, straight down to bra.s.s tacks, eh? You must get that from your father."

I smiled briefly but without feeling any emotion attached to the expression. "Well, I'm sure your time is precious, Mr McKendrick."

He held is hands up. "Please, call me Alasdair. And relax a little, will you? You're not up against a firing squad, you know."

I heaved a frustrated sigh. "Forgive me for my trepidation, but it's not often one's father's arch nemesis takes you out for coffee and mini cakes, Alasdair." I stressed his name forcefully.

He laughed heartily. "My, my. So, I'm Campbell's arch nemesis, am I? Well, I can a.s.sure you that was none of my doing." The waiter arrived with a large silver tray adorned with coffee cups, coffee pot, and a selection of brightly coloured sweet things that looked far too good to eat. Once the waiter had gone, he carried on. "Do you know the facts behind the relationship between him and me?"

I shook my head. "Can't say that I do. All I do know is that you're not to be trusted."

He pursed his lips and nodded. "I see. I see." His brow furrowed and he briefly lowered and shook his head. "Tell me...have you and your father reconciled?"

"No." My answer was blunt and to the point, and I hoped it would be left alone.

He poured coffee into his cup and placed the pot down with the handle angled toward me so I could do the same.

After adding milk and munching thoughtfully on a miniature chocolate gateau, he dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. "Finlay. I would like you to come and work for me."

My jaw fell open and I just stared at the man. That was what you called a direct hit. Considering the hostile manner of my reaction toward him, it wasn't what I had expected.

After what felt like an age of me sitting there like a complete dumbstruck idiot, he rescued me. "Look, I know this is a bit of a shock. But you are one of the best, Hunter. I only employ the best. In my humble opinion, you were wasted in your father's firm. Forever in his shadow, as it were. You should be leading on the big cases. Maybe you can take some time to think about it."

"Has...has this got anything to do with you bearing a grudge against Campbell? Because I have enough s.h.i.t going on with him as it is-"

He held up his hands. "No. No, this has nothing to do with your father. I would have offered you the job whilst you were still employed by him but, well, I presumed your answer would have categorically been no at that point."

Searching my brain for some kind of response, I gulped down the hot coffee from my mug, scalding the skin on the roof of my mouth-evidently this was becoming a habit-and muttering expletives as I tried to place my cup down as gently as possible. "I don't get it. Why me?"

He shrugged. "Like I said, Finlay, I only employ the best."

"But how do you even know about the standard of my work?"

"I have ways and means. I just want you to think about it. Will you do that?"

I inhaled a deep calming breath. "Before I agree to even think about this, can you explain why Campbell hates you so much?"

He placed his dessert fork down and eyed me warily. "What would be the point in that? He's your father, and anything I tell you will simply be dismissed as folly."

"No. No, it won't. I feel it would help me to know...to understand."

He heaved out a long breath through puffed cheeks. "Well, to cut a very long, laborious story short...he stole my fiancee and proceeded to turn her against me by making up ridiculous rumours about me."

My exhaled laugh was without humour. "Seriously?"

A wistful expression came over his ageing features. "Isobel and I were together first. I was deeply in love with her."

What?! "My mother was your fiancee?"

"She was, Finlay. And your father took her away from me."

Things weren't adding up. "But...So why does he hate you? Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"The difference between your father and me is that I know when to let go. I saw how easily he charmed her. And yes, it broke my heart. But if she was taken so easily, she was never mine to begin with. The issue now is that your father is still looking over his shoulder, awaiting my revenge. I suppose when you treat people so despicably, you live in fear of reprisal."

I raised my eyebrows. "That would explain a lot. He is very paranoid." I was speaking more to myself than to Alasdair.

He paused for a moment and disappeared into his own thoughts. "Do you know, Finlay, I will be honest with you. Now I think about it, perhaps on some subconscious level, my employing you would be a kind of revenge. Because it would be my intention that you succeed. And that would be something that would never have occurred for you, had you remained in your father's employ. But, as unlikely as this may sound, it was not my conscious intention to use you to seek revenge. My employees are treated with the utmost respect and that would be the same for you. We are a team. No one individual is placed under undue pressure. What I'm getting at, Mr Hunter, is that you would be treated fairly. Not used as a scapegoat for your father's misdemeanours."

As I listened to Alasdair McKendrick speak, I began to see him in a whole new light. His honesty deserved the respect he had mentioned I would receive should I accept his offer. And, let's face it, the offer of employment couldn't have come at a better time.

I took a deep breath. "Okay...I'm in."

Alasdair's eyes widened. "You don't want time to think it through? We haven't discussed pay...conditions and whatnot."

I shrugged. "Earning a wage is much better than earning nothing. And from the research I've done this morning on your firm, it appears you're an advocate for those who find it difficult to find good representation. To me, that speaks volumes about the kind of man you are, Alasdair. And I respect you for that."

A wide smile spread across McKendrick's face, and he stood, holding his hand out toward me. "Well...welcome aboard, son."

His use of the word 'son' would otherwise have felt condescending, but coming from him, it warmed my heart. It was as if I had done something to make him proud, and the feeling was both alien and gratifying.

This felt right.

This felt good.

I just hoped my gut feeling wouldn't steer me wrong.

All I wanted to do was call Star and tell her the good news.

Star Hearing the excitement in Fin's voice did strange things to my insides. His enthusiasm was contagious. I listened patiently as he regaled me with the news of his new job, and all worries about him further p.i.s.sing off his father faded into nothingness. Above all, I was touched he had made me the first one he called to share his great news with.

I waited for him to take a breath. "So when do you start?"