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“I promised to take Lindsey down to the craft fair in the village.” Jack rose to his feet.
“Can we go, too?” Anna turned to Hunter. “Please?”
Hunter rolled his eyes. “What have you got me into?” he demanded of his brother as he pushed his chair back.
Within minutes the dining room had emptied. Only the Harrises—and Fraser—remained.
“Gordon wants to schedule some time with you this morning, Callum,” Fraser told his brother as he, too, got to his feet.
“We can talk after breakfast,” replied Callum, lifting a pot of aromatic coffee. After Petra had refused the offer of a cup, he said, “Coffee, Miranda? Or would you prefer tea?”
Or me?
Miranda could’ve sworn the invitation was in his wickedly glinting eyes. “Coffee,” she said huskily, all too conscious of the effect he had on her as he filled first her cup then his.
Gordon’s mouth was suddenly grim. “After breakfast will do. I was starting to think you might be otherwise occupied.” He glanced meaningfully at Miranda.
Callum stilled, then carefully set the coffeepot down.
Petra put a hand on her father’s arm. “Daddy—”
“No, Petra.” Gordon shook his daughter’s hand off. He turned in his seat. “Callum, I had hoped the relationship between our families would be more than business. I had hoped…” He paused.
“Daddy, please.”
Petra looked mortified. A shaft of pity for the other woman pierced Miranda. Wasn’t it enough that she was hurting already? Did her father have to humiliate her, too?
She shot Callum a pleading look. Couldn’t he do anything to stop this? His arm came across the back of her chair, and his hand rested possessively on her shoulders. “Gordon, I think—”
“Petra would make you a very suitable wife. Much better than she ever would.”
The anger in his gaze stupefied Miranda.
“I can’t believe that you broke it off with Petra for her. Think whose daughter she is. The fruit doesn’t fall far from the vine. Will you ever be able to trust her?”
“Daddy!”
Callum’s body had coiled tight, and Miranda could feel the tension radiating from him. Suddenly she felt decidedly ill.
“Yes, I can trust her,” Callum bit out.
Oh, heavens. Miranda grew cold. Trust her?
Callum’s free fist hit the edge of the table with a loud bang. Both Miranda and Petra jumped. Callum glared at Gordon. “Frankly, I wasn’t intending to spend the morning closeted in meetings. And, yes, I had intended to spend the day with Miranda, who is one of the nicest women I’ve ever had the fortune of dating.”
Miranda sighed. Poor Petra.
“So you can be the first to congratulate us, Gordon.”
“First to congratulate you?”
Gordon’s shocked expression echoed Miranda’s own shock.
Callum’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “We’re getting married.”
“Married?” A gasp of delight came from the door.
Miranda closed her eyes as Pauline hurled herself across the room.
“Oh, Callum, I heard a thump and thought something must have broken. But this is wonderful. Just wait until I tell your father.”
Oh, help. What in heaven’s name had Callum done?
As Callum closed the door of the study behind them ten minutes later, Miranda wrenched herself out of his hold. “What possessed you to say such a dumb thing to Gordon in there? I feel like such a fool.”
“Hey, it’s not that bad,” he said, the protective streak that he hadn’t known existed still strong as he crossed the room to stand beside her. “I—”
“I told you that I didn’t want to lie any further to your family.” She covered her face with her hands and her curls bobbed. “Now your parents think we’re getting married. At least your brothers haven’t heard. You can tell them it’s a stupid misunderstanding.”
“Why?” Callum could see his bald question had thrown her.
She dropped her hands and stared at him. “Your parents like me. Once they hear that you only said it to protect me from Gordon’s nastiness, they’ll understand.” Then her mouth formed an O. “Of course, you can’t do that, can you? Gordon is an important shareholder. That’s the whole reason your brought me along this weekend—to stop exactly the kind of scenario that just occurred in the dining room from taking place.”
