CALLIE (The Naughty Ones Book 1) Read online

  When he practically dives at me and starts kissing me senseless, I get the impression—fleeting though it is since I can’t think with him all over me—that he’s not so bowled over by my brain but more interested in my body.

  An age later, when my lips are puffy and slick and I’m trying to climb into his skin, he pulls back and grins down at me with wicked glee.

  “You just proposed to me, Ducky!”

  “What! No, I did not. No. Nope. Nahah. I refuse!”

  This is so not the story I want to tell my children and grandchildren one day. No way! I can hear it now, Oh, by the way kids, your father was telling me about what a douche he was and me being the ass I am, I proposed. Sooo romantic!

  Not in this freaking lifetime.

  “Yes. Yes, you did! You said—!”

  “I don’t give a rat’s tiny ass what you think you heard, buddy, but I will not accept this. You will propose in a heartfelt, totally sentimental display of sappy perfection, or I will neuter you while you’re sleeping. I may have lost my memory and part of my mind by falling for your stupid ass, but I will not lose my story because you’re smug. I expect a lot more than this, and I won’t settle.”

  That gets me a lot more kissing and some full-body rubbing before he pulls away with a frown.

  “You never told me what scared you, baby.”

  “Oh, uh.” I blush and twist my lips, a little uncertain about admitting that I’m now a big believer in ghosts. “I heard someone whisper my name. I think your house is haunted, Cam,” I whisper, pushing closer when a renewed shiver of fear trembles through me.

  “Ghost?”

  “Yup. I heard it calling me, and I swear I did not imagine it. I gave up a chocolate cupcake hauling ass up here.”

  That’s how seriously creepy it was.

  No more kissing after that, to my utter dismay, but I do fall asleep with a smile, only to wake later to see Cameron locking the doors, the connecting one as well and jamming a chair under the handle.

  I guess he’s taking this seriously then.

  Good, because I meant what I said. I am going to be bait because I refuse to spend any more time worrying about this.

  I have a sick engagement to get ready for and a family to start loving.

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Cam

  “Do you mean to tell me that Mum got a fake text from Millie?”

  I’m about ready to pick myself bald at this point with nothing more than a few well-placed fingers and a frustration that’s killing me. Seems someone lured Mum and Dad away from the house on the pretext of seeing Angelica.

  With them out of the house and that bloody maid taking advantage of Shaw’s good nature, my very soon-to-be wife had been left alone and vulnerable.

  Because I believe her. Someone had been skulking around, moaning her name to scare her. Chances of her falling the way she’d bolted were high, and that thought just infuriates me even more than anything else does.

  If I hadn’t come home and stayed in the city as I’d planned, she would have been on the floor all fucking night!

  “Cam—?”

  “I need this to stop. Now Griff. You weren’t there; you didn’t see how terrified she was. Can you believe the poor darling thinks the house is haunted by my dead brother?!”

  Shaw has been scuttling around, peeking around corners as if she expects something to appear and jump out at her. She won’t even go upstairs alone anymore and waits for me before even venturing forth to the bloody loo.

  I will not tolerate this a moment longer. My woman is afraid, and I will slay that dragon come hell or high water. I just need to figure out what the hell is going on first, which is apparently bloody impossible because there are no clues to follow.

  I hear a chuckle over the line and roll my eyes when Dougal comes over the speaker in Griff’s place.

  “I know, mate, bloody hilarious that. I caught the poor dear burning a bunch of bloody twigs the other day. Told me it was sage and that she’s not barmy, just hedging her bets in case she’s wrong and a ghoul is indeed floating about.”

  “Stop laughing, you stupid git! It’s not bloody funny. I’m about at my wits end here. She keeps insisting that the only way to get things sorted, if we’re not dealing with the supernatural”—I roll my eyes at that for the hundredth time—“is if she stands as bait.”

  Dead silence to that before someone coughs, and I hear whispering.

  “Oh bloody no. I will not allow my pregnant fiancée to get caught up in this.”

  “But she already is, Cam. She is at the center of this all, and nothing will happen if we don’t make it happen. I think you should arrange a garden wedding for the weekend. Like you so nicely said, we can kill two birds with one stone. You can finally get married, put Aunt Marge out of her misery, and maybe if we’re lucky, we can catch a ghost,” Griff says, sounding too bloody logical for my liking.

  Truth is, I’ve been thinking this very same thing, no matter how much I want to ignore it. I’m a businessman, and I think in the most analytical, straightforward terms. This is possibly the only way around a problem that is now plaguing me.

  I’ve told Dad, of course, he’s still the patriarch of our family after all, and now that he’s on board—let’s not say what he said when I brought up Rob. Turns out, Dad has his own opinion of my brother’s actions—and we are now loaded down with security.

  All hidden, of course, but in such a way that I know my family’s every move without appearing as if I’m loading my guns for bloody bear. I am of course. Whomever I’m hunting, blood or not, I will no longer tolerate any threat to those I love.

  But the bloody idea of having her in the line of fire is killing me.

  “Look, mate, we all love Ducky, and now that we know she’s with child again, well, we understand your hesitance, but you need to make a move soon or things will be out of your control.”

  Buggering Dougal. How is it that the family jester has turned out to be the one person who makes more sense than the lot of us put together? Un-fucking-believable.

  “Fine, but I swear to God, if anything happens to her, I will kill everyone in my path. You included.” I warn, pinching at my nose to waylay the headache I feel building there. “I’ll get the arrangements made. Get Kent in on the plans and drop in tonight. Dad wants to be in on the meetings.”

  “Righto, mate.”

  “Cam?”

  “Griff.”

  “Congratulations, man. You deserve this, really you do.”

  “No, I really don’t, but I will earn them if it is the last thing I ever do on this earth.” I swear, closing my eyes on that vow.

  “And I have no doubt that you will. And I’m sorry about all this, cuz. I know it can’t be easy for you to have to consider that your wanker of a brother may not be dead and is still alive and apparently a psycho.”

  A bitter laugh escapes my clenched lips, and I grind my teeth in an effort to stem the tide of curses trying to escape the cauldron of rage brewing beneath my surface. I’ve thought about his from every conceivable angle, and still, the only thing I see is Robert’s face the day I caught him with Letitia.

  Smug. Satisfied. Cruel.

  We’d never really gotten along, not even as small boys. Robert was a spoiled brat, adored for his mischief and golden good looks. At the age of sixteen, he’d been a bloody bully and a snob, not to mention a serial womanizer who didn’t hesitate to seduce many an innocent, no matter the consequence.

  I’d seen girls ostracized and humiliated when they’d given him their purity, only to be cast aside and ridiculed. He himself was never cruel, but he never stopped the “friends” he was surrounded with when the blighters would laugh and goad the girls.

  I on the other hand always knew my duty. Family. Business. Responsibility. When we’d each received our trust funds on our twenty-first birthdays, I’d paid Dad outright for the sale of the company and sunk the rest into expansion, diversification, and a few very well-placed investments,
quadrupling my net worth in less than a year.

  Rob, on the other hand, had set out to become a playboy of legends, spreading his wild oats and partying his life away as if that’s all there was to life.

  Nothing had slowed him down, not even Mum and Dad’s pleas. Not my threats. Most certainly not when news of his fooling around with my fiancée had hit the gossip pages.

  While it had driven a wedge between our already rocky relationship, I would have looked past it for family’s sake. Not Rob, no the bugger had actually laughed and delighted at the scandal, all but rubbing it in my face and crowing that he’d saved me from her avaricious claws and done me a favor.

  Was I sad to learn of the accident? Yes. He’s my brother, and I will always love him, but I will never forgive him for what he did to Shaw and Angelica, and if it turns out something sinister is going on and he is or was in any way involved, I will destroy him.

  “Cam? You still there, mate?”

  “Yeah, Griff, uh, sorry. Thanks, man. And thank you for the help.”

  “Always, cuz. We’re brothers in every sense, and I will always be here. Just never to get Letitia out of your hair again. The woman is a freak in bed, and while I like some things, others are just…”

  I hear him shudder dramatically and chuckle.

  “Understood. You ever need anything else you let me know.”

  “Will do, mate. Definitely. About that Bugatti.”

  I put the phone down before he can get any further, my lips tipping in a smile. No bloody way is he getting his paws on my baby, deal or no deal.

  There are just some things a man can’t do—and that includes letting a Mario Andretti wannabe wreck a car I love more than a good business deal.

  “You still busy?”

  I look up from my musings to see Shaw peeping around the door, her gaze darting before she smiles and settles on me.

  “No, baby. Come in.”

  She shuts the door and pounces across the room, landing on my lap with a thud and a glorious smile.

  “What brings you this way so close to lunch?”

  I ask only because I know that she knows that there will be brownies, and she’s been haunting the kitchen half the morning anticipating them.

  “I called Alec, now Cam, calm down. I’m not leaving you or listening to Alec. I needed to put his mind at ease. He wants to come over for a visit. Finally meet his niece. And he is my twin so you can’t say no.”

  Bloody he—

  “Fine. He should come. He can walk you down the aisle on Saturday.”

  Her eyes widen before narrowing so intently I can’t believe she actually sees me anymore.

  “Cameron—?”

  “Now, Ducky, you said you wanted to be bait.” I point out, stifling a grin when she twitches and finally smiles that smile that tells me she thinks she’s won.

  Fat chance that.

  “Really? Oh, Cameron! This is so exciting!”

  “I think you just blew out my eardrum.”

  She leaps to her feet and starts pacing excitedly, her mouth going a mile a minute while I just smirk, not hearing a word she’s chattering so fast. It doesn’t matter anyway since I’m planning this to the last detail, and she won’t have one word of a say in it.

  Poor dear thinks she’s got a choice in all this.

  “You knoooow, I’ll need a dress. And a carriage. And possibly doves,” she muses, not sparing me a glance. “Ooooh, and there’s this wedding cake that I saw in one of Molly’s magazines. It’s shaped like Big Ben; it was so super-realistic I almost thought it was a photograph of the real thing…”

  I tune her out and start planning my play, satisfied when every piece falls seamlessly into place in my mind.

  “And I need a chocolate fountain.”

  Say what now?

  “You realize this will probably end up in a magazine?”

  Please let that make a difference, I think, envisioning the tackiest wedding ever should she not get my meaning.

  “Go big or go home, right?”

  Oh hell.

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Cam

  “You hurt my little sister and I will personally make you scream like a Bieber fan.”

  “Hysterically, painfully, and without pause until he passes out?” Dougal asks amiably, looking for all the world as if he’s quite accepting of my pain and suffering.

  Alec Mallory gives me an evil smile and nods once, his brown-eyed stare so flat I can’t help but understand that the man means business and will not hesitate to make his words truth.

  “Jolly good old chap! Told him so meself just the other day, not the Bieber part, but close enough. I say, are you a fan of his by chance?”

  I give Alec another once over and cast Dougal a glance that tells him my opinion of that nonsense. When Shaw had spoken of her brother, her twin, I’d pictured a thin, studious bloke with her hair and feminine features.

  I was bloody being hopeful.

  What I got now is a bloke that is just an inch shorter than my six foot two inches, a body that makes the fucking rock look like a pussy and a face that is mean enough to scare babes.

  According to Dougal, he is what the ladies would call a “killer.” I believe them, just not the way one would assume because I know that if I so much as breathe wrong on his beloved sibling, the man will take my not at all small or weak frame and turn me into a bleeding pretzel. Literally bleeding.

  “The day I listen to that shit I may as well take a blunt, rusty knife to my sac.”

  I wince and see Dougal furtively cover his own balls.

  “Right! Okay, so not a soft bone in that massive husk,” Dougal muses, stretching his eyes at me with a quick shake of his head. “Soooo, we should definitely go pub crawling tonight.”

  “I’m here for my sister. Anybody makes her cry and they die.”

  “Right. Well, now that I am officially terrified, I think I’ll go get a drink and subject myself to Griffin.”

  He saunters off in the direction farthest away from where we’re standing, watching Shaw and Mum coo over Angelica where she’s holding court in the middle of the sitting room.

  “You wanna tell me what’s going on now that the window dressing is gone, Stone?” Alec growls, his eyes going soft when Shaw laughs at Angelica’s antics.

  I shrug the tension from my shoulders and catch Kent’s eye, letting him know to keep watch while I’m gone. He nods once and drops to the carpet, making cooing noises and distracting everyone as I turn and walk out, Alec hot on my heels.

  He accepts a brandy and falls into a chair in front of the hearth when we get to my office, and I close the door. His posture looks relaxed, but the man looks about ready to start chewing on my bones.

  “I know you don’t like me.”

  “Understatement.”

  Ahem. Well. Honesty is best yes?

  “And I completely understand.”

  “Smart at least.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake.

  “I’ve royally buggered up with Ducky in the past.”

  “Her name is Shaw.”

  Ignore it, Cameron. The man is a psychotic.

  “Would you let me speak? We’re likely to be here all bloody week if you keep that up.”

  That gets me narrow eyes before he nods once, his eyes trained on me over the rim of his glass.

  “Like I said, I fucked up, massively, but I am no idiot. She’s the best thing that has or will ever happen to me, and I plan to rectify my errors. That aside, we, my cousins and I, and even Ducky, believe that she was shoved down those stairs. Wait, let me finish. She’s been having nightmares about the fall, but has not yet regained her lost memories.”

  He nods, and I see his eyes close before waving me on.

  “She said she was sure that the person who pushed her was Robert.”

  That gets him sitting upright and grinding his teeth.

  “He’s dead.”

  “Well, yes. But I won’t write off her account. She’s no
liar.”

  “About fucking time—”

  “Would you shut up and let me finish!” I yell, squeezing my fists so hard my knuckles pop.

  Yes, the man is huge and probably frightens monsters, but I am no slouch. I’ll kill him and hide the body in the backyard if need be, but I will not fall out with him and ruin Ducky’s mood. Not in public anyway.

  “Go on.” Grudgingly said, but I’m relieved to see that his lip twitched for the barest second.

  “Right, so going on that, and the theory that whoever did it is targeting her because I love her, we’ve decided to set up…why are you smiling?” I ask, feeling a cold shiver race down my spine.

  The man scowling is scary. A smile from that stern face? Evil.

  “You love her, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Told her that?”

  Always in my business. Why, if I wasn’t sure that simpletons and lunatics can’t share the same gene pool, I’d almost want to test him as Griffin and Dougal’s long lost sibling.

  “No, and before you start in on me, I have a reason. I want to marry her, yes, but we had always intended that so I can’t really use it as a show of my love and devotion. I want to tell her after, when she doesn’t need to hear it. That way she’ll know how sincere I am.”

  I cringe because, yes, I sound like a total oaf, but Alec surprises me by smiling, his face transforming so much I catch a glimpse of Ducky in there somewhere.

  “Good.”

  “Good?”

  “Yeah, man. Good. All I want for her is happiness, man, and if you can give her that and the love she deserves, then you can live. Now. Tell me about what you got planned for this weekend. I don’t want any surprises, and I think I may have a few things to add that could help us.”

  By the time we’re done planning and drinking I know two things: Alec Mallory is no college student or studious lawyer. The man has been in the military since the day he left his mother’s house, and he knows his way around a quick murder and body dump.

  Apparently telling Shaw that he was studying law was meant to ease her mind and keep her from constantly worrying herself to death over her Alec.