At the Laird's bidding - completed

Chapter One

"How can you live with yourself?!" Ana Stewart demanded to know resting fisted hands on a ceder handcrafted desk. "You're kicking a seventy-five year old lady out into the street. Gee, your parents must be so proud of you," she sneered, straighting, glaring at the horrible man seated behind his desk in his very expensive suit not a hair out of place of his immaculate styled mahogany hair looking so superior to her.

Shrewd vivid blue eyes roamed slowly over her figure hugging jeans and black knitted crop top under a light blue shirt, the many rings on her fingers and long ginger hair surrounding her oval face with too-large for her face sea-green eyes, arms crossed over her bust line. No make-up, no manicure, no care whatsoever. Ana stiffened under his scrutiny. "Surely you can't kick out a woman who owns her own house for the last twenty years." She ripped out a document from her back pocket to slam down on his desk.

Hard as steel blue eyes looked down then back up into wild sea-green eyes. "How did you get in here?" his deep dark voice asked with a hint of a Scottish accent.

"I had an appointment," she noted, lips pinched tight, bare of lipstick.

"Under false pretence, it seems." He reached for the document with perfect manicure hand to open and glanced over. "I don't see your problem, it's very clear and legal." He placed down the document to be snatched and leaned back in his soft large black leather armchair, pressing fingers against his lips as he crossed his legs.

Taking a deep breath she briefly closed her eyes. She had to keep calm for granny's sake. "You can't evident Elsbeth Stewart because you don't own the land. It belongs to her." She removed another document from the other pocket to slam down upon the desk to point at. "Now that is legal. It's her home, all paid for, under law, so it is her property, so shove that where the sun don't shine." She spun on her heels and stormed out slamming the door behind her to have his secretary's head come up frowning. She didn't care and of course hadn't kept calm. It was better than slapping his arrogant face. He hadn't a leg to stand on.

"Ms Stewart," a commanding voice stopped her in her steps, turned around and stepped back at the giant of a man. Seated behind the desk gave no indication of his height, his board shoulders and long lean rock hard body that couldn't be hidden under his perfectly tailored cut suit. With his finger he called her across, yet his vivid blue eyes, the bluest she had ever seen, dared her to disobey his summons. She swallowed hard, pushing hair off her face.

"I have said all that needs to be said."

"I haven't," he growled deep in his throat. "Not even close." There was a long pause while she stood where she was. "Don't make me come to you Ms Stewart," he said softly, though heard his underlining threat. A man not to cross. Perching her lips, crossing her arms in protection she headed back into his office refusing to look up at him as she passed. "Sit down," he barked. She sunk into the chair on the opposite of his desk she had ignored when he offered it the first time. No, she just went for his throat to show him she meant business. As usual jumping in with both feet, a tad over the top, as her granny would say, but what choice did she have?

Stormy sea-green eyes eyed him under thick ginger lashes watching as he sunk back into his chair to lean forwards placing locked finger on the desk lightly but sounded loudly in her ears, every nerve end tense. Not sure what was coming. Taking someone on like Andrew Ross, developer of the decade, hard-as-nails business man was like an ant up against an elephant. On step and she was squashed into oblivion.

She had righteousness on her side. He was wrong and she was right. Simple as that. Her eyes narrowed slightly, resentful. He had no idea what he was doing to her granny, she was having heart palpations, for goodness sake. Any man who chucked a elderly woman onto the street, ripping away the only home she knew was totally heartless.