Page 38 of What Doesn't Kill You…

"By you following my lead." He gave her a challenging look. "That's the deal, right?"

"Right." She forced the word through her teeth.

"Well then." He stepped back, putting some space between them. "Here's what's going to happen. We're going to go back to dinner. You are going to smile at me whenever I talk to you. I'm going to touch your shoulder, or hand, or back of your neck. You're going to look like you enjoy it. And we're going to have a nice meal."

She blinked several times. "That's it?"

He unlocked the bathroom door and stepped outside before looking back at her over his shoulder. "For now," he said holding out his hand for her to take.

Her jaw clenched as she took it. Max figured it was progress when she made no attempt to break one of his fingers.

"You two okay?" Rodrigo asked when they reached the table and took their seats.

"We're good," Max replied, clasping one of Violet's shoulders. "We've come to an understanding and the wedding is still on."

Violet smiled his way. It looked a little manic, but it was a start.

Rodrigo and Katrina shared a worried glance but before anyone could reply, there was loud raucous laughter from the golf course. As one, the team turned to see their redheaded teammate, dressed completely out of character in blue jeans and an untucked white dress shirt, lead a group of young men onto the course. Most of the men seemed to be several sheets to the wind already.

"For Scotland," Evan roared before whacking the ball up the course.

There was a wild cheer from his new friends.

"Guess the party's started," Abasi said as he came up beside them. "He better not have been drinking. I was very specific about him staying off the booze." He cast a wry glance at the table. "Never met a Scot who couldn't drink everybody around them under the table. It's like they're immune to alcohol."

"Where did he find his new friends?" Max asked as he took Violet's hand, aware she was making the effort to remain relaxed and follow his lead. He smiled her way, letting her know he appreciated it, and she gave him a slight nod in return. It was all very civil and very unlike Violet Lee. He wondered how long it would last.

"In a bar, where else?" Abasi said. "I swear, you drop a Scotsman anywhere on this planet and they'll find at least a half dozen more of their countrymen before the night is over. Believe it or not, these guys are on a bachelor weekend away, before the wedding in Glasgow next week. Evan introduced himself and suggested a round of golf on Wedding Island. One of them wanted to invite some strippers." Abasi looked bewildered. "Evan actually texted me to ask if that would be okay."

As a loud, tuneless rendition of Flower Of Scotland started on the golf course, Max turned to Violet and smiled. And she smiled back. Not the smile of a woman under duress, but one of an intimate partner sharing a joke. The sight took his breath away and he couldn't help but think he was completely out of his depth.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Evan was having a blast. It was the first time he'd gone undercover, and he was rocking it. He couldn't wait to rub his experience in his brothers' faces. They would be gutted they'd missed out. Poor them. So sad. He grinned as he watched Rab do a cartwheel straight into a sand bunker. He landed on his head, jumped to his feet and pumped his fists in the air with a roar of triumph—as though he'd intended to do that exact thing in the first place. At this rate, the guy would be in a full body cast before he said his vows.

They were out of sight of the restaurant now, and away from the watchful eyes of the rest of his team. Evan took a fortifying breath. This was it. He was on his own, and mission success depended on him. He cast a glance at the five guys he'd befriended and, with enthusiasm, cheered them on as they hit their balls up the course. One more hole and they'd be near the estate fence.

It didn't take long, even drunk the Scots could play a game of golf. As soon as Evan spotted the security fence, he turned to Wee Andy, not to be confused with Big Andy, and said, "Nearly forgot the photos boys. Get the drone."

"Aye, aye," Wee Andy said as he pulled it out of his empty golf bag.

If anyone had wondered why they were toting around a bag with no clubs, nobody had said anything.

"This is gonnae be epic," Big Andy said as he came up beside them. Then he gave Evan a worried look. "Please tell me you're no’ just gonnae take video of us playing golf?"

"Hell no," Evan said as he set up the drone. It purred to life and, satisfied it was sending all of its footage straight to his cloud storage account, he stepped back to take control. "We need to do something worthy of recording. I'm thinking a music video."

"I can sing," Wee Andy said proudly. "And I've got the looks for a boy band."

The others laughed.

Wee Andy was offended. "I could have been in Wet Wet Wet back in the day."

The laughter turned to puking noises.

"You had to go and pick the worst Scottish band ever," Big Andy said. "I'm embarrassed for you. There are a million better bands you could have named, like Simple Minds."

"Or Prefab Sprout," Mick said.