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“He’ll be gone by the time the police get here,” one of the young women said with a wicked smile. “We should take his photo—in case they need it to track him.”
“Do not take my photo,” Logan barked the order, but it was too late. The Australian girls were already snapping away.
“We don’t need photos,” Mrs. Edwards said. “I know who he is. He’s Logan, and he works for Benson Security.”
“Better safe than sorry,” said one of the Aussies, showing the screen to the older woman.
“I see what you mean.” She flushed. “I’m going to need copies of those. Perhaps Logan could turn around again so we can capture the full view.”
The three women stared at him expectantly, as though it was perfectly normal for them to ask him to flash his arse for a photo.
“Leave. Now.” He pointed to the stairs.
Only the old guy moved. “I’m fetching Dougal,” he said, before heading down the stairs.
Great. Agnes would kill him if they roped Dougal into this. He appealed to Mrs. Edwards, “It could affect Agnes’ job if he involves Dougal.”
“I’ll stop him…for a price,” the evil woman said.
Hanging his head, Logan did the only thing he could—he turned and let the women take photos of his backside. “If any of these end up on the internet, I’m pressing charges,” he threaten
ed.
But it was an empty threat, and they all knew it.
“Are you done?” he demanded. “Somebody needs to stop the old guy while I get dressed. Without an audience,” he stressed.
“Breanna,” Mrs. Edwards said, “run downstairs and stop Mr. Thompson. Tell him it’s all under control and there’s cake in my room.”
“This is the best holiday ever,” the young woman said as she disappeared down the stairs. “Scotland rocks.”
Logan stared at the two remaining women. This was not how he’d expected the evening to end.
“We’re going now,” Mrs. Edwards said. “You really do have the most delicious heinie. Makes me wish I was ten years younger.”
And with that, they were gone. Leaving Logan to throw on his clothes as he wondered what the hell just happened.
Chapter 16
“Agnes,” a deep voice snapped. “Are you sick?”
“I was just thinking,” she said, jerking upright.
Damn, she’d fallen asleep at her desk. She was exhausted. Out of sorts. And all because she’d spent every night since she’d kicked Logan out, lying awake and thinking about him. Then she’d spent her days avoiding him. It was draining. And to add insult to injury, she kept bursting into tears. Thankfully, none of her episodes had been in public, but she’d still morphed into something she didn’t recognize, and it was all Logan’s fault. She’d never been this confused over a man. Next thing she knew, she’d be crying because she broke a nail.
She tugged down her suit jacket, her hands stilling mid-motion. It had started—she was turning into her boss.
“Thinking?” Dougal boomed. “With your head on the desk and your eyes shut?”
“It’s my zen place.” She reached up to straighten her ponytail and found half her hair wasn’t even in it. Had she started the day like that? This was humiliating. Usually immaculate in her appearance, she prided herself in being a businesswoman ready for a day at work. Today, she was a mess. All because of Logan. Damn, sexy, irresistible, annoying man. “What can I do for you?” she asked her boss, trying to sound her usual professional self as she continued to fix her hair.
“The Christmas market starts the day after tomorrow, and it’s our busiest time of the year.”
He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. “I’m aware of when the market starts. I also know the hotel is booked solid from tomorrow, and the town will get busy tomorrow afternoon.” That’s why they’d booked in a band for Friday night.
“Aye, well, I wanted to make sure you had everything ready.”
“Yes, everything’s ready.”
