Heat seared through him, and he wanted to reach for her and haul her against him. It wasn’t until the blond’s gaze once more turned to Laura that Charon heard himself growl.
“I’m Laura Black,” she hastily said, and sent him a quick glance as she held out her hand to the blond. “I’m Charon’s assistant.”
Charon hands curled into fists when he watched the man take Laura’s outstretched hand and shake it, his thumb gently rubbing across her skin.
“Nice to finally meet you, Miss Black. Your e-mails were most persistent that we give Mr. Bruce a chance to state why he should carry our brand.”
Laura smiled nervously, her green gaze darting to him. “Charon and I are delighted to be here.”
“Why are we here?” Charon asked before she could say anything else.
The blond lifted a brow. “I see my manners are lacking. I’m Constantine, but everyone calls me Con. As for why you’re here, Mr. Bruce, I thought you knew the reason.”
Charon narrowed his gaze on Con and took a step to the right, putting himself in front of Laura. “What I want to know is why all of a sudden am I here? Why now?”
“Remember I told you that you weren’t the only one guarded, Mr. Bruce,” Cassie reminded him.
Charon wished he had listened to Laura and left her in Ferness. Had he just stepped into a trap? Were those at Dreagan working for Wallace?
Damn, he was such a fool. He’d wanted Laura with him not just because she was good at talking with people and was a good candidate to take over his businesses, but also because he wanted to be with her.
His actions could very well have put her life in danger. The one thing he didn’t want to do.
“Rest assured, Mr. Bruce, we’re your friends,” Con said, as if reading his mind.
Charon stared into the black eyes of Con, but could find no deceit, no matter how deep he looked. There was cockiness, confidence, and arrogance in spades, but no treachery. It helped that he felt not a trace of any Druid magic.
He pulled in a breath and nodded. “Call me Charon.”
“Come,” Con said, and turned on his heel to walk through a doorway behind him.
Hal, Cassie, Guy, and Banan all stayed behind. Charon hadn’t asked what they did, but then again, he didn’t need to. They, along with Con, had the same look about them as the other men Charon had seen around the property.
Con was prepared. But prepared for what?
After they were shown to their seats before the large wooden desk, Con poured three glasses of whisky and handed one to Laura and one to Charon.
“Why do you want to sell Dreagan whisky?” Con asked as he took his seat behind the desk.
Charon swirled the dark amber liquid in the glass and noted the dragons carved into the corners of the desk. “It’s the best. My village may be small, but I like to give my people the best.”
“And,” Laura said with a glance at him, “the tourism plays a vital part in Ferness. It’s close enough to Inverness and Pitlochry that people pass through to see the beauty of Ferness.”
Con nodded and sipped the scotch, his gaze on Charon. “You own quite a bit of Ferness. Seems to have been in your family for … several generations.”
“Aye.” Charon stilled, Con’s words alluding to a deeper meaning. Did Con know what he was? Had the investigation already gone that deep?
“I, too, own quite a bit of land that I inherited from … family.”
Charon turned his head to look out the window to his left. The Highlands rose up around Dreagan at every turn. The sky, cloudless, was like a sea of blue that stretched endlessly across the horizon.
The way Con spoke of it, the slight hesitation told Charon Con not only knew he’d been alive for a long time, but that there might be something similar going on with him.
Warriors couldn’t always recognize other Warriors, but in the centuries Charon had been around, no Warrior had mentioned anything about Con or anyone else at Dreagan.
“Inheriting land can be beneficial,” Charon finally said.
“And sometimes difficult.”
“Sometimes.” He looked back at Con, wondering what he was alluding to and why. “You have men guarding your land.”
“Just as you do.”
Charon’s nostrils flared in anger. “I see you’ve delved deep in your investigation of me.”
“Perhaps,” Con said with a blasé shrug. “Is that no’ what men in our position do? We have others counting on us. We need to make the right choices.”
Laura put her glass on Con’s desk and stood. “I think that’s my cue.”
Charon sat forward, intending to rise with her until she held up her hand.