Logan by Melissa Schroeder Page A

curved his lips.  
    “It definitely is,” he said, answering his brother.  
     “And so, when you do that spell, have you found it works?” Maggie asked.  
    Meg shook her head. “That’s the thing. It doesn’t work. Well, unless the jackass loves you already.”  
    Maggie frowned. “Then why would you do the spell to begin with? Especially one that had all those ingredients? Where do you get bat brains in this day and age?”  
    “Well, because men are idiots.”  
    Maggie sighed and nodded, as if she understood the reasoning. She drained what was left of her drink. Then, she frowned. “I’m out of wine.”  
    “Here,” Meg said,  
    “Hey, what do you think about going out tonight? The guys are out and we could go stir up some trouble.”  
    He shared another glance with Angus, who was smiling.  
    “Yeah. Let’s do it. It would be fun to mess with people. We could send a few of them screaming.”  
    Angus shook his head and stepped into the room. “I think you should stay in tonight, love.”  
    Maggie frowned at him. “Quit sneaking around like that.”  
    Neither Angus nor Logan pointed out that they had been standing in full view for several minutes.  
    “I just think in your state, you should stay home love. Logan and I don’t want to unleash drunken witches on Paris.”  
    She sighed. “You spoil all my fun.”  
    Angus chuckled, as he lifted her out of the seat and over his shoulder.  
    “Angus McLennan, put me down.”  
    He smacked her on the rear end. “You said you wanted some fun, and I’m happy to be of service to you, Mrs. McLennan.”  
    She lifted her head and waved at them, as they headed out the door.  
    There was a long silence after the newlyweds left the room. Then, Meg sighed. “So, now it’s your turn to get me into bed.”  
    He blinked. “I beg your pardon.”  
    She giggled, falling back onto the couch. “You are so stuffy for an artist. Most of the artists I know are free spirits.”  
    Normally, he was. Out of all of the Clan, he was known for being easy going. Not much got on his nerves and if it did, it didn’t last for long. For some reason, when he was around Meg, he became a version of his father, a man who never understood Logan’s passion for art.  
    “Either way, you need to go to bed and get some rest. We’ve a busy day ahead tomorrow.”  
    She rolled her eyes and stood up. “Sure thing, commander.”  
    “I’m not the commander.”  
    “Yes, that would be Callum, now wouldn’t it?” He opened his mouth to tell her to hurry up, but she rambled on as she walked over to him. “That would make you what, like a major? Or whatever you Brits call it.”  
    “I am no’ a brit.”  
    Her lips curved. “Oh, sorry. I just think of you as related.”  
    Her tone told him she knew exactly what she had done. It was then that he realized she was practically naked. The t-shirt she was wearing had seen better days. She apparently forgot to add pants to the outfit.  
    “Now, let’s get me to bed, shall we,” she said.  
    She wobbled a bit, but righted herself as she made her way out the room. He followed behind her, worried that she wouldn’t be able to make it up the stairs.  
    Of course, it was the worst position to be in, he thought. At least the t-shirt covered her ass, which frustrated him too. He kept getting quick glimpses of black silky material each time she gained a stair. And each time he had to resist pressing his hands against her rounded ass.  
    She lost her balance and fell back against him. He kept them both from falling down the stairs by grabbing her by the waist.  
     “Oh, my,” she said, her voice breathless as if in anticipation.  
    He ground his teeth and righted her. She was drunk and no matter that they had kissed the night before, he would not take advantage of her.  
    Meg turned and flashed a smile at him. “Thanks.”  
    He felt the power of that single look to the depths of his soul. Was this