Tall, Dark & Gorgeous: To Marry McKenzie. Carole Mortimer

his mother had played down the dark sensuality of her own beauty, wearing a demure grey skirt suit with a black blouse, even her make-up was less pronounced today; she wore only a light blusher on her cheeks, and a pale peach lip-gloss.

      Logan had no doubts that both women had made these changes to their appearance in expectation of meeting the other. His mother he didn’t give a care about; she played a role so often it was difficult to know with her what was real and what wasn’t. But the effect on Logan of this totally different-looking Darcy was one of stunned silence.

      Making him fully aware that it wasn’t only her smiles that could render him speechless!

      Maybe he could just introduce the two women and make his excuses? Because he wasn’t sure he could actually sit here, with his mother on one side of him, and Darcy on the other, looking the way that she did, and behave normally!

      But, the introductions over, instead of making his excuses and leaving, he found himself sitting down with the two women, even agreeing to take tea with them when the waiter came over to take their order!

      Willpower, Logan, he told himself disgustedly. Quite—wherever was it?

      But he very quickly realised as the two women looked warily at each other that it was going to be up to him to break this initial awkward silence.

      ‘Were you busy at lunch-time today?’ he asked Darcy conversationally.

      She seemed relieved to speak to him, hardly seeming to be able to even look at Margaret. ‘Not too bad.’

      Logan wasn’t altogether sure he believed her; she still looked very tired to him. ‘Have you heard from your father?’ he asked.

      ‘No,’ she answered flatly, shooting his mother a brief look beneath lowered lashes.

      Obviously she was wondering if Margaret had heard from Daniel Simon, Logan realised disgustedly. Well, if Darcy wasn’t going to ask her, he was!

      He looked at his mother with narrowed eyes. ‘What about you?’ he pressed.

      Margaret Fraser took her time answering, crossing one slender leg over the other, before looking up at him with unemotional blue eyes. ‘Logan, I— Ah, tea.’ She smiled up at the waiter as he began to place tea things on the table in front of them.

      The young waiter—predictably!—couldn’t take his eyes off Margaret as he went about his duties, obviously wondering if this really could be the beautiful actress Margaret Fraser, but he was too polite to actually ask.

      Logan viewed the young man’s reaction with a totally jaundiced eye. He had been seeing this reaction to his mother’s looks all his life, had found it to be the height of embarrassment when introducing her to schoolfriends, followed by university friends—the fact that she was old enough to be their mother making no difference! Old or young, men were always bowled over by the way his mother looked.

      Darcy, he could see, looked slightly green as she also noted the young man’s response to Margaret Fraser.

      ‘Shall I pour the tea?’ his mother offered lightly once they were alone again.

      She could damn well answer his question, was what she could do!

      ‘Go ahead,’ he told his mother dryly. ‘And while you’re at it, tell us whether or not you’ve heard from Daniel.’

      Was it his imagination, or did his mother’s grasp of the teapot tremble slightly as he repeated the question…?

      If it did, she quickly brought it back under control, graciously leaning forward to hand Darcy her cup of tea. But Logan wasn’t fooled for a minute; his mother might be a wonderful actress, but he had known her too long to be taken in!

      ‘Well?’ he pressed again once she had given him his own cup of tea.

      His mother gave Darcy a small smile. ‘He was like this as a child, you know,’ she remarked. ‘Dogged!’ She shook her head. ‘He had learnt to walk by the time he was nine months old, could talk by the time—’

      ‘Mother!’ Logan interrupted her, heated colour on the hardness of his cheeks. ‘I’m sure Darcy has absolutely no interest in hearing when I walked, talked, or, indeed, any of those other normal childhood achievements!’

      His mother raised dark brows. ‘Is it my imagination or are you a trifle tetchy today, Logan?’

      A trifle—! One day he really was going to wring her neck for her! ‘No, it isn’t your imagination, Mother,’ he bit out through gritted teeth. ‘As I have already explained to you, I do not appreciate being dragged into this mess!’

      ‘Then, my dear Logan,’ his mother returned calmly, putting one slender hand on his arm, ‘why don’t you just leave Darcy and I to it? I’m sure we both appreciate the fact that you’re a busy man. I can easily get a taxi back later. I’m sure we can manage without you—can’t we, my dear?’ She turned to Darcy.

      Logan also turned to Darcy. He was only here because of her, and he didn’t appreciate being dismissed by his mother as if he were some errand boy who had completed his job! If Darcy now did the same thing—!

      Darcy pulled a face. ‘I’m sorry, Logan, I really didn’t think…Of course you must go. I’m sure you have other things you need to do.’

      ‘Fine.’ He slammed his teacup down on the table before standing up. ‘I’ll leave, then.’ Without waiting for further comment from either of them he turned and strode out of the hotel.

      To blazes with the pair of them! He had done as Darcy had asked him, his mother had accepted him accompanying her to the hotel, and now he had been dismissed by both of them!

      He was so angry he almost forgot he had driven here, that his car was still parked in the basement of the hotel. Which only served to increase his anger; between the two of them, his mother and Darcy were making a complete mess of his ordered life—and him!

      Darcy watched Logan leave with a certain amount of dismay, concerned that he had left in a temper, and not exactly relishing the idea of being alone with his mother, either. But, by the same token, she didn’t think the two of them would talk frankly with Logan present, which was something they needed to do.

      ‘I shouldn’t worry too much about Logan,’ his mother cut gently into her thoughts. ‘He has a hot temper—which he hates. Logan likes to be in control, you see,’ she explained affectionately. ‘But a temper is often something beyond our control. However, as I said, don’t worry, his temper is hot, but it quickly goes cold again.’

      It seemed quite strange to be sitting here discussing Logan with someone who knew him so intimately; not only did Margaret know when he had walked and talked, she had also been the one to care for his every need as a baby. It was hard to envisage a totally helpless Logan…!

      ‘I’m not worried,’ she assured Margaret. ‘I’m just a bit sad that he seems to be angry with both of us.’

      His mother laughed. ‘I’m used to it; Logan has been angry with me most of his life, for one reason or another. But I can see how it would be upsetting for you,’ she said almost questioningly.

      Because she wondered just how close Darcy and Logan were…?

      Darcy wished she knew the answer to that herself. Last night—Better to forget last night, she instantly berated herself. But even today, Logan had telephoned his mother and set up this meeting, as Darcy had asked him to, had driven his mother here. That didn’t seem like the actions of a man who was completely indifferent to her.

      She had even dressed up today, was wearing more make-up than she usually did, in the hope of showing herself in a different light to Logan. Too often he had seen her as a weeping mess, or hot and tired from working in the kitchen; she had wanted to show him that she wasn’t always like that. For all the notice he had taken of her chic appearance today she might as well not have bothered!

      Darcy gave a dismissive shrug. ‘He’s been very kind,’ she