Page 5 of Scottish Seducer
Chapter 2
Charlie Grannd
Beingthe second son of a Scottish laird meant that no matter what I accomplished on my own, my brother Logan was the duke, and took his title seriously.
As boys, we’d housed royalty, supervised the Highland Games, and reunited the clan annually, and Logan had a hereditary and blood title that no one could ever take from him.
I was the spare, which only lasted until he married and had his own children, but honestly, being free of that responsibility meant my own dreams could soar. I learned almost from the crib to find people willing to invest in my latest project, because my family wouldn’t give me anything.
The only person who ever seemed put off by my grand plans was Logan, who was now our clan laird as well as a fancy duke.
So today, my brother and I ambled through the castle, kilts swinging, along the path we’d run as boys, and once again Logan didn’t even blink at my suggestion when he said, “Charlie, you’re one of the smartest men I’ve ever met, but the answer is no.”
I eased my hands in my pockets, again congratulating myself for paying my tailor extra to add invisible pockets, and said, “That word is excluded from my vocabulary.”
“So is tradition when you ruin your kilt, but no one says a word to you.” He shook his head. “Everyone else in the world already supports your every whim. You don’t need my money.”
Actually, I did. I tugged my ear. His approval mattered in the right circles, and he almost always said no. I’d built my empire on airwaves, apps, airplanes, and attracted venture capital for almost all my ideas, but he’d kept his investments in anything I did consistent but minimal.
So I didn’t blink when I said, “I want to keep this in the family, and you’re my only brother.”
He patted me on the back like he was looking out for me. “Charlie, you’re not stable. You’d bet every dollar of our family’s inheritance on building a spaceship.”
I’d imagined space travel since we were boys watching movies in the movie theater wing of our castle. I glanced behind us to the room. Our father would take this walk with us when I was a boy, too, and he also tried to rein in my dreams.
But this time I persisted, because Logan wasn’t the same as our dad, and said, “Logan, I accepted it when you didn’t want to be part ofthatplan, and I got my own investors, but this project is a very traditional bank in the United States and right up your alley. You’re on the board of many of my companies and a bank is a conservative investment.Mony a mickle maks a muckle.”
Our father used to say that when he preached about investing a little to make a lot, so it was the logical choice, especially since Logan followed that thinking.
My brother shook his head. “Not with you. The small amount you seek won’t beproperlyinvested to grow to a pretty sum. I’m sure there’s a clause somewhere in the contract that automatically approves loans for ideas that intrigue you, Charlie.”
Fuck.He knew me. I stiffened as we headed past some familiar trees and said, “So what?”
I met the gleam in my brother’s eyes, though, while he studied me, and added, “We should be funding innovation.”
Logan shook his head. “Banks are supposed to be dependable and safe.”
I usually went out of my way to prove someone wrong, but Logan was different. He meant well, so I tried a different tactic. I held my hand to my heart. “I’m totally dependable.”
His huge laugh made my ego burn as he said, “You have dreamers giving you their every dime already. You don’t need mine.”
This was the one-time exception to my general rule of finding another way.
I was standing here with the kilt tickling my skin, out of respect for him, and now I asked, “What if I can prove it to you? Only if you agree after I prove it will I be able to say you’re an investor, however small you choose to be.”
His eyes narrowed as the birds sang. “Why is my approval suddenly important to you?”
Because he represented our family in formal matters of state now, and would soon host royal visitors again, his name was respected in the right circles for this venture. But I cleaned it up and said, “Because Logan Grannd is a name people trust. My market research team stressed your inclusion would make the bank profits soar ten years sooner. So how can I prove to you that I’m dependable?”
He shook his head at me and said, “You? Before he died, Father stressed a number of times that you should marry to keep you grounded.”
What the fuck?I said, “You aren’t suggesting that I marry?”
He shook his head, like the idea of me settled down amused him. We turned the corner to head back to the house as he said, “No, but if you had a steady girlfriend—and Idinnaemean some arm candy, but a woman on your arm with thoughts and opinions of her own who can hold her own near you—then I’ll have my lawyers review our demands for a contract.”
Having a woman around regularly might not be the end of the world—if she was agreeable. “So if I produce a girlfriend, you’ll negotiate?”
We were almost back to the castle when he said, “A girl who can stand up to you.”
