Free The MacGregor Grooms by Nora Roberts Page A

was perfectly sensible. She couldn’t have said why it made her feel afraid, and a little sad. “And if we continue to act on it, we’d both have to recognize the limitations.”
    “I don’t like the word
limitations.
” It irritated him to have her use it just then when she was sitting across from him in his kitchen, wearing the ancient and ratty robe his mother had given him for Christmas years ago. When the scent of the shower and the sex they’d shared was still haunting his senses.
    “While we’re sleeping together, we don’t sleep with anyone else.”
    Both of her eyebrows arched now at the edgy tone of his voice. “I wouldn’t call that a limitation, but common courtesy.”
    “Call it whatever you like. Nobody puts his hands on you but me.”
    “Just one damn minute.”
    “And if The MacGregor pushes Henry the Banker at you, you just toss him right back.”
    “I don’t know anyone named Henry.” Frustration began to surface again. “And I have no idea why you think your grandfather would push a banker on me. I don’t need a new banker.”
    “It’s a husband he’d be pushing on you.”
    She choked, grabbed her wine and drank hastily. “I beg your pardon?”
    It gave him some dark satisfaction to see the baffled shock on her face. “I was going to explain it to you, before we got distracted. He’s taken to you.”
    “Henry?”
    “No, for God’s sake, you haven’t met Henry, have you? My grandfather.”
    Layna set down her wine, lifted both hands. “I’m confused. Your grandfather is a happily married man in his nineties.”
    D.C. narrowed his eyes. “You’re not being deliberately softheaded. Let’s try again. The MacGregor likes you—he thinks you’re a fine young woman, and that alone is enough for him to decide you need to have a fine young man beside you. You need to be married and having babies. It’s all the man thinks about, I tell you. He’s obsessed.”
    “Well, he never mentioned anything of the sort to me. He did say something in passing about your grandmother fretting because you had yet to settle down and raise a family.”
    “Hah!”
    She jolted a little as D.C. slammed down his glass, then jabbed a finger at her.
    “Hah!” he said again. “There you have it. My grandmother has nothing to do with it. It’s him. He uses that to guilt us into doing just what he wants us to do. And before you know it, you’re buying diapers. I’ve seen it happen before. He focuses in on one of us at a time, like a project. Then he drops the perfect match into our laps, pretends he had nothing to do with it. My cousins are dropping like flies into wedding bliss, but it’s not enough for him. As long as there’s one of us left unmarried, he’ll be at it. The man’s relentless.”
    She waited for the tirade to pass. “All right, I won’t argue with you. You’d know him best. Though I really can’t see that he could maneuver intelligent adults into making a commitment like marriage. But be that as it may,” she continued as D.C. sputtered. “I have no intention of marrying anyone, ever. So it has nothing to do with me.”
    “There’s where you’re wrong—and that’s just how he’ll get you.” D.C. picked up his fork, wagging it at her before he scooped up more pasta. “He’s taken an interest in you, Layna. It’s a relief to me, as he’s shifted his focus for a bit, but it’s only fair to warn you. He’ll be sly, just casually mention to you that he knows this bright young man. Then he’ll find a way to arrange for the two of you to meet.”
    “And this would be Henry.”
    “It would. So you just tell the old meddler you’re not interested in any Henrys.”
    She couldn’t resist and smiled sweetly. “A banker, you say? I wonder if he’s tidy. Did yourgrandfather mention what he looked like?”
    “Oh, go ahead and joke. See if you’re still laughing when you’re talking to wedding coordinators.”
    “I think I can handle a little attempt at matchmaking.