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it! ‘I would like to speak to Darcy, please,’ he answered smoothly, realising that he hadn’t even bothered to learn the girl’s surname.

      ‘Darcy?’ came back the puzzled reply. ‘I’m not sure if we have a customer in by that name, sir, but I’ll check for you. If you—’

      ‘She isn’t a customer, she works there,’ he cut in, his resolve to remain polite rapidly evaporating.

      ‘I’m not sure…Just a moment, sir.’ The receiver was put down, although Logan could hear a murmur of voices in the background.

      Logan drummed his fingers impatiently on his desktop as he waited, a glance at the box containing the silk shirt only succeeding in firing his feelings of annoyance.

      ‘Sorry about that, sir,’ the cheerful voice came back on the other end of the line. ‘It seems that Darcy will be at the restaurant this evening.’

      ‘At what time?’ he rasped.

      ‘We usually arrive about seven o’clock—’

      ‘Book me a table for eight o’clock,’ Logan interrupted shortly. ‘McKenzie. For one,’ he added grimly.

      ‘Certainly, sir. Shall I tell Darcy—?’

      ‘No!’ Logan interrupted harshly. ‘I—I would like to surprise her,’ he bit out through gritted teeth. Surprise wasn’t all he would like to do to Darcy!

      ‘Certainly, sir,’ the woman accepted. ‘That’s a table for this evening, for one, in the name of McKenzie,’ she con-firmed. ‘We look forward to seeing you then,’ she added brightly before ringing off.

      Logan sat back in his chair, his expression set in grim lines. He very much doubted Darcy would share that sentiment if she were aware he was to be at the restaurant this evening—not when his greatest urge was to wring her slender neck for her!

      This evening already promised to be a sight more interesting than yesterday’s had turned out to be!

      In fact, as he showered and dressed at his apartment later that evening in preparation of leaving for the restaurant, he actually found himself humming tunelessly to himself as he tied his bow-tie.

      Because he was going to see Darcy again? he questioned himself incredulously.

      Hardly, he admitted ruefully—not unless you counted—

      He turned as the telephone on the bedside table began to ring. It was already seven-thirty, and if he was going to make the restaurant for eight o’clock he should be leaving in the next few minutes. But instead of the caller ringing off when he didn’t answer, the telephone just kept on ringing. Persistent, or what?

      Logan grabbed up the receiver. ‘Yes?’ he rasped his impatience.

      ‘And a good evening to you too, cuz,’ Fergus returned.

      ‘Where are you?’ Logan demanded. ‘I have some contracts I need you to look at. You’re never around when I—’

      ‘Logan, as you are well aware, I am no longer a full-time lawyer. I only continue to act for the family as a favour to all of you,’ Fergus cut in smoothly. ‘Grandfather needed me in Scotland to discuss a few things with me. But I’m back in London now, so—’

      ‘What sort of things?’ Logan questioned warily; his grandfather had a habit of changing his will every month or so, depending on who was in favour at the time. Not that this bothered Logan on a personal level; he was wealthy enough not to be concerned with the McDonald millions. But his mother, as one of old Hugh’s three daughters, was likely to be furious if she was cut out of the will yet again. Which meant Logan was sure to get dragged into the situation!

      ‘That’s what I rang to talk to you about,’ Fergus answered evenly.

      ‘I’m just on my way out, Fergus,’ Logan told his cousin after a glance at his wrist-watch. ‘Can’t it wait until tomorrow?’

      ‘It can,’ Fergus answered slowly.

      ‘But…?’ Logan heard that hesitation in the other man’s voice. It was that will again!

      ‘But, I really would rather talk to you tonight.’ His cousin confirmed there had been a hesitation.

      ‘Okay, Fergus,’ Logan sighed wearily, sure this had to be about his grandfather’s will. ‘I have a table booked at the Chef Simon restaurant for eight o’clock. Meet me there.’ He was sure there would be no problem setting the table for two instead of one.

      ‘The Chef Simon?’ Fergus echoed sharply. ‘But—’

      ‘Do you have a problem with that?’ Logan prompted, unsure whether or not his cousin was involved with anyone at the moment.

      The three cousins, Fergus, Brice, and Logan, had been known as the Three Horrors by their family during their growing-up years in Scotland; the Three Macs when they had all gone off to Oxford University together at eighteen; now, in their mid-thirties, all of them having remained unmarried, they had become known in social circles as the Elusive Three.

      But the fact that none of them had married did not preclude female involvement in Fergus’s life…

      ‘No, no problem,’ Fergus answered thoughtfully. ‘In fact, it’s probably a good idea. A very good idea.’ He was obviously warming to the suggestion. ‘I have to change first, but I’ll be with you as soon as I can.’

      Logan slowly replaced his own receiver, frowning deeply. It would be good to see Fergus on a social level; it happened all too infrequently nowadays. Although in the circumstances, it was also a little inconvenient, he realised belatedly…

      Never mind, with any luck he would have a few minutes before Fergus arrived to deal with the situation concerning Darcy and the silk shirt.

      His mouth tightened grimly as he thought of the meeting ahead. Time for Darcy’s surprise!

      ‘The man on table eleven would like to have a word with you, Darcy,’ a slightly breathless Katy informed her as she brought some dirty starter plates into the kitchen for washing.

      Darcy looked up from what she was doing. ‘Me?’ She frowned. ‘Are you sure he meant me?’

      ‘Darcy. That’s what he said.’ Katy shrugged, picking up two plates of prawns nestling in an avocado nest before bustling back out into the main restaurant with them.

      Darcy felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. A customer asking to speak to Darcy. She didn’t like the sound of that. Not one little bit!

      ‘Better go and see what he wants,’ Daniel Simon advised dryly, busy making a sauce for a steak he also had cooking.

      Darcy gave him a scathing glance even as she took off her apron and smoothed the black skirt down over her hips, her cream blouse tucked in neatly at her slender waist. ‘Keep the customers happy at all costs, is that it?’ she returned with barely veiled sarcasm.

      He shrugged. ‘Well…I draw the line at you selling your body for profit, but other than that…yes!’ he answered teasingly.

      Darcy’s scowl deepened. ‘Very funny!’ she retorted. ‘Can you manage without me for a few minutes?’

      He smiled across at her, blue eyes crinkling with humour. ‘I think I can cope,’ he drawled. ‘And, Darcy…’ he called softly as she turned abruptly on her heel and flounced over to the doors that led into the restaurant.

      She turned at the door. ‘Yes?’ she replied tautly, chin raised defiantly.

      Things had been very strained between them since his announcement yesterday morning, mainly on Darcy’s side, she had to admit. But she didn’t intend letting him off the hook with a few teasing remarks. Not this time.

      ‘Smile,’ Daniel Simon advised ruefully. ‘The customers prefer it!’

      She only just managed to hold back her

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