Free A Kiss to Seal the Deal by Nikki Logan Page B

spun around again, not sure which insult boiled her blood more. ‘Easily swayed? Had you met Leo McMurtrie?’
    Joe finally put down his beer, ready for a battle. ‘I grew up with him, love.’
    Then something else hit her. ‘And I am not a piece of city skirt. I grew up in a town smaller than this one.’
    â€˜Good for you,’ Joe snapped. ‘Why don’t you head back there? Your kind is not wanted here.’
    Even his own mates stepped in then, taking Joe’s beer from the bar and moving away from their seats as if he’d follow, pied-piper style. They underestimated him.
    She straightened to her full height. ‘Is that so?’
    â€˜Kate…’
    Grant’s warning was warm against her ear but she was too far gone to care. She ignored his plea and shot back at Joe. ‘And what kind is that, exactly?’
    The whole bar stopped to listen. People peered in from the dining area next door.
    â€˜You greenie mob. More interested in saving a bunch of thieving sea-dogs than the lives and livelihoods of the people living here.’
    Grant’s hand tightened further on her upper arm. He slipped his body closer to hers and tried to nudge her away from the bar with it.
    Kate leaned around him. ‘Those sea-dogs have more right to be here than you do. They’ve been fishing here for millennia.’
    â€˜Rubbish! I’ve been around a lot longer than you have, love, and there were hardly any when I was a boy. Just those few out on the McMurtrie farm.’
    â€˜That’s because morons like you hunted them nearly to extinction. They’re only just now getting back to—’
    â€˜Kate! Enough.’ Grant physically pushed his way between the two opponents and forced her back a step.
    â€˜Get out of my way.’ Her verbal warning was for Grant, but her narrowed gaze and her furious attention were all for the ageing fisherman at the bar. Although not so much she didn’t feel the strength of Grant’s body pushing back against hers.
    He dropped his head low against her jaw and whispered warm against her skin, ‘Don’t do this, Kate. You’re not going to do yourself any favours.’
    Behind him Joe Sampson snorted. ‘Oh, not another bloody McMurtrie man addled by a nice pair of legs,’ he sneered, before turning back to the bar and speaking too loudly to be to himself. ‘Or what’s between them.’
    Grant spun faster than Kate could blink and his body was hard up against Joe’s. Both the old man’s friends stepped in,hands raised, to head off the conflict. Joe stumbled backwards off his chair and looked every year of his considerable age.
    Grant caught him and held him with the steeliest grip Kate had ever seen. ‘Apologise.’ His voice was low and hard, and she got her first inkling of what he might be like as a boardroom opponent.
    â€˜I’m not apologising to no city skirt.’
    Grant shook the older man and spoke low and hard. ‘I’m not talking about Kate. She can look after herself. Apologise for what you implied about my father.’
    Kate held her breath. So did the rest of the pub.
    Joe Sampson eventually dropped his gaze from Grant’s. ‘Yeah, all right. I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, I s’pose.’
    Kate stepped up behind Grant and put her hand gently on his back, moral support, for what it was worth. He didn’t even notice. Furious heat radiated through his shirt.
    â€˜My father negotiated access with Kate’s team. As was his right on his land. Nothing more.’
    â€˜That we know of,’ Joe threw out stupidly.
    Grant’s whole body tensed but one of Joe’s mates stepped into the simmering tension. John Pickering, the one with the bushy beard. ‘Look, I’ll take her out. I don’t mind,’ he said.
    Joe turned on his mate. ‘Traitor!’
    â€˜Let it go, Joe. What’s one boat trip to keep the