by Carrie Elks
He was still grinning. Her words had created a lightness inside him that felt impossible to hide. As though somebody had inflated a balloon in his chest, lifting him until only the tips of his toes were still in contact with the ground. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been picked up in my own hotel before,’ he said. ‘It’s a first for me.’
She swallowed. ‘For me, too.’
For some reason he liked the sound of that. ‘In that case,’ he said, sweeping his arm towards the exit, ‘let’s go.’
34
They do not love that do not show their love
– The Two Gentlemen of Verona
Lucy slid her keycard into the lock, only too aware of Lachlan standing directly behind her, his body casting a long shadow on the painted door. She could feel him too, sense the warmth radiating from him, and could hear his soft breaths as he waited for her to open up. Their mutual apologies had made her feel as light as air. As if she could conquer the world if she wanted to.
As soon as they were inside her hotel room she could feel her face start to flush. It felt intimate, having him in here, even if she had protested that she had no ulterior motive.
‘Would you like a drink?’ she asked him.
‘I’m good,’ he replied, looking around the room. ‘If you’d told me you were coming I could have gotten you an upgrade. I know the owner.’ There was that smile again, all dimples and warm lips.
‘I was scared that if I told you I was coming you’d say not to bother.’
He tipped his head to the side, still staring at her. ‘Why would you think that?’
‘Because I was wrong. I should never have left you like that. I shouldn’t have left at all. If I’d just let things be and seen what happened I could have gone home after the gala.’
He winced, the smile temporarily disappearing from his face. ‘I really wanted you there.’
‘I know you did.’ Her voice was soft. ‘And I should have been there. For you.’ She took a step forward, trying to ignore the way her whole body felt on edge. ‘I’m so sorry I left you to go alone.’
She wasn’t the only one who needed to apologise. ‘I’m sorry I ruined your dress.’
‘What are you talking about?’ She looked at him in confusion.
‘I was so angry I tore your dress up.’ He had the good grace to look embarrassed. ‘I thought it would make me feel better.’
‘Did it?’
‘Nope.’
It was her turn to wince. She could just picture him standing in front of that dress, taking all his anger out on the silk. ‘It was a beautiful dress,’ she said wistfully. ‘I’m sorry I pushed you to that.’
‘We both did a lot of stupid things that day. I should never have shouted at you, or given you an ultimatum. It’s killed me not to call you and tell you how much I miss you.’ His expression softened. ‘It’s been a special kind of torture not being able to speak to you.’
‘I kept hoping you’d call or email me,’ she told him. ‘When you didn’t I thought maybe you didn’t care any more.’
‘I cared,’ he told her, taking another step to close the gap between them. ‘I cared a lot. Too much. I just didn’t want to make a fool out of myself.’
She looked up at him, taking in that familiar face. The hard angles and the soft skin. Everything about him made her feel warm inside, and yet more afraid than she ever had. ‘You could never make a fool out of yourself. You always win, remember?’
‘I haven’t feel much like a winner. I haven’t felt much of anything.’ He reached out for her, running the tips of his fingers along her cheek. ‘It took everything I had not to fly over and demand you explain yourself.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘Because I needed you to come to me. Or to call me at least.’ He laughed, but the humour didn’t reach his eyes. ‘I guess I wanted you to tell me you were wrong.’
‘I was wrong,’ she whispered. His finger traced down from her cheek to the corner of her lip. Her skin felt as though it was on fire. ‘I shouldn’t have left like that.’ She looked down, not quite able to meet his gaze. ‘I thought everybody needed me, that if I let go of control it would all come tumbling down. But it turns out that my sisters don’t need me like that any more. They’re all grown up and in charge of their own lives.’
‘So where does that leave you?’ he asked her, running the pad of his finger along her bottom lip.
‘Here with you. If you’ll have me.’
He looked at her, unblinking. ‘Of course I’ll have you.’ He leaned forward. His face was only inches away from hers. She wondered if he was going to kiss her. ‘I know I said I was trying to wait, but I was just getting Grant to arrange my flights to London before you arrived. It turns out I’m not as patient as I thought.’
She smiled at him. ‘That’s one of the things I love about you,’ she said.
He looked gratified at her words, closing the gap between their lips, kissing her deeply. He curled his hand around the back of her neck, angling her head so he could kiss her harder, deepening it with a slide of his tongue against hers.
She looped her arms around his neck, arching herself into him, all thoughts of apologies and torn dresses disappearing from her mind. His other hand pressed into the dip of her lower back, his fingers burrowing under her shirt until they were pressed against her flesh, and she felt herself shiver beneath his touch.
‘What was it you wanted to show me?’ he murmured, brushing his lips down her jaw and then kissing at her neck.
‘Hmm?’
He moved his fingers up her spine, making her shiver, his lips still worshipping at her throat. ‘You asked to show me something,’ he said, his words muffled by her skin. ‘Or was that just an excuse?’
Briefly, her thoughts were pulled to the box, placed carefully on the table on the far end of her bedroom, but then he moved his hands to the buttons of her blouse, deftly unfastening them until it gaped open, and he kissed his way down her chest to the swell of her breast.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she gasped, as he moved his face down until his lips were tugging at the lace of her bra, sucking at her nipple through the delicate fabric. She felt her skin harden, her body reacting to his warm, wet mouth.
She could feel him harden in the same way.
‘It doesn’t?’ he clarified, moving his lips to her other breast. She loved the way he always played fair.
‘Nuh uh.’
Looping his arms around her back, he unhooked her bra, sliding it down her arms along with her blouse, until they were both pooled on the floor.
‘Well, I’ve got something to show you,’ he told her, unbuttoning his own shirt, and shrugging out of it.
‘You have?’
‘Yep.’ He reached down, unzipping her skirt and pushing it down her hips with his warm hands. ‘Now get on that bed and close your eyes.’
‘You’re as bossy as ever.’
‘Always.’
‘And what if I want to be in control?’ she asked.
He looked up for a moment, a curious smile playing at his lips. ‘Do you?’ he asked.
She stared back at him. ‘No, not really. Not this time, anyway.’
‘Then do as you’re told and get on the bed.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘You want me to get a bathrobe?’ he asked her, his voice teasing. ‘It would make a good gag if nothing else.’
‘You’ve forgotten we’re in the cheap rooms,’ she pointed out. ‘No complimentary bathrobes in here.’
‘Then I’ll have to find another way to keep you quiet,’ he said, dipping his lips to hers once again.
‘You could try,’ she murmured, closing her eyes as she felt him lift her up, and carry her over to the bed.
‘Yeah, I could,’ he said, laying her down onto the mattress, her hair spreading out on the pillow. ‘But I have a feeling I might fail, and we don’t want that.’
‘You said you didn’t care about winning any more,’ she pointed out, letti
ng out a little gasp as he ran his fingers lightly down her stomach, past her hips, hooking them into the waistband of her panties.
‘Lucy?’
‘Yes?’
‘Will you shut up and let me make love to you?’ he asked her, tugging her panties down, making her lift her hips to aid the movement.
She wasn’t sure what she loved the most, the way he looked at her like she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, or the way he ran his fingers down her thighs, leaving a trail of fire on her flesh. Either way, right now seemed like a good time to be quiet.
For a few minutes, at least.
He was the first to wake in the morning, his eyes blinking rapidly as reality seeped in to his blurred dreams. She was still lying beside him, her blonde hair fanned out against the white pillowcase, her face flushed and crumpled from where she’d been lying on it.
Her suitcase was still by the door, unzipped where she’d hurriedly found her washbag at some point in the night. Next to it was a large box, similar to the one she’d left his apartment with in such a hurry.
No, not similar. It looked exactly the same.
He couldn’t help but wonder what was inside.
It was another twenty minutes before she opened her eyes. He watched as she focused on him, then pulled her lip between her teeth, as memories of last night made them both heat up.
‘Good morning.’ He reached out to trace the scar on her forehead, made visible by the way her hair was falling. ‘Did you sleep well?’
‘When you finally stopped molesting me,’ she said, grinning.
‘I was wondering, what’s in that box?’ he asked her, inclining his head to where her luggage lay. ‘It looks interesting.’
It was as though a light had turned on behind her eyes. ‘Oh God, I’d forgotten about that.’ She covered her mouth for a moment, as though embarrassed. ‘That’s what I wanted to show you.’ Her fingers muffled the sound.
‘When?’
She sat up, curling her legs beneath her. ‘When I asked you to come up to my room last night, remember? I said I wanted to show you something.’
‘I remember.’ He tried to keep his amusement down. ‘And I think you showed me, all night long.’
She shook her head. ‘You have a dirty mind, do you know that?’ She scooted off the bed. She was naked as she walked across the beige carpet, and he couldn’t help but admire the way her hips swung, her ass high and toned as she walked.
God, she was enticing.
She grabbed a T-shirt and sleep shorts from her case, pulling them on before lifting the box. Padding back to the bed, she laid it on the mattress, picking off the tape that fastened it shut.
‘There’s a good story to this,’ she told him, lifting the cardboard flaps to reveal the packing foam. ‘I bought it on the way back from Bergdorf’s that day. I saw it and thought of you.’ Gently, she took the foam out, to reveal an oversize black plate nestled into the box. It was old, the chips on the side of the rim were enough to tell him that, but that wasn’t what made it beautiful. It was the criss-cross of gold lacquer, metallic jagged lines that glued the pieces together, that made it stand out.
‘It’s exquisite,’ he told her. Reaching out, he touched the surface of the plate, feeling the smooth porcelain give way to thick glue. Each line told a story, of something broken but not irreparably. Of beauty rising from pain.
‘I brought it home with me,’ she told him. ‘I didn’t want to give it to you after our argument. And then as soon as I took it out in my apartment, it got broken.’
‘It did?’
She nodded. ‘My neighbour’s cat pretty much jumped all over it. It smashed to pieces on my kitchen floor. It looked as though it could never be mended.’ She touched the chip on the edge, where his finger had just been. ‘I couldn’t even find this piece.’
‘It must have been tiny,’ he said, watching her finger move back and forth over the jagged hole. ‘But it doesn’t matter. It’s still beautiful.’
She looked up from the plate, and into his eyes. ‘It reminded me of us. I think that’s why I was so upset when I broke the damn thing. It felt as though I’d messed everything up, and it was irreparable. But then I called a woman in London who specialises in Kintsugi. She offered to take a look at it to see what she could do.’
‘She did an amazing job. It’s hard to tell what’s old and what’s new.’ He felt a lump growing in his throat. The way she was touching the plate reminded him of the way she touched him. Softly, reverently, as though he was something worth taking care of.
‘It’s silly,’ she said, ‘but I always pictured it in the entrance hall of the lodge at Glencarraig. It would have looked beautiful on the table beneath the mirror.’ Her eyes dropped, as though she was embarrassed. ‘I guess that won’t happen now that your brother has it.’
He reached out for her chin, lifting her face up until her gaze met his again. ‘My brother doesn’t have it. I didn’t give him the lodge.’
‘What?’ She blinked, not understanding. ‘I assumed you agreed to give it up.’
‘Didn’t Grant explain what happened?’ Lachlan asked. He tipped his head to the side.
‘No, he didn’t explain. We got into a bit of a discussion about you, and that was that.’
‘Do I want to know what you were discussing?’ No, he probably didn’t. Best not to go down that road.
‘Stop changing the subject. I want to know what this agreement was. One that wasn’t condoned by your ex-legal representative, I might add.’ She wrinkled her nose.
He grinned. ‘You’re very sexy when you’re angry.’
‘It always comes down to sex, doesn’t it?’
‘I can’t think of much else when you’re half naked in my bed.’
‘I think you’ll find it’s my bed,’ she pointed out. ‘This is my room, I’m paying for it.’
‘And I own it.’
‘On paper, which in this case means you’ve probably got a huge debt on it. And anyway, what makes you think I’m impressed by your properties?’
‘You were impressed by my lodge.’ He wiggled his eyebrows, and she couldn’t help but laugh.
‘So tell me how it’s still yours.’
Lachlan sat up, pulling her with him, until they were both resting against the headboard. ‘It’s not quite mine, but it’s not Duncan’s either.’
She let out a strangled groan. ‘Stop stringing it out. I’m on the edge of my seat here.’
He swallowed a chuckle. ‘Okay, so I saw my brother at the gala and we had a talk.’
She looked guilty at his mention of the gala. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there. How did your talk go?’
‘Surprisingly okay. There were no shots fired, no blood spilled, so I counted that as a win.’ He reached out and stroked her shoulder, her chest, the swell of her breast. ‘And then we met again the following week to discuss the case, just the two of us. No advisers, no lawyers, just two brothers.’
She stayed silent. As though she knew this was his story, and he needed to tell it.
‘And I told him about the lodge, about Alistair and the clan website. It seemed crazy that here we were, two American businessmen, fighting over a title and a castle in a country that isn’t ours.’
‘So what did you agree to do?’
He carried on as if he hadn’t heard her. ‘I’d always wondered why my father left it to me. He hadn’t shown any interest in me when he was alive. I asked Duncan about it, and he had no clue either, except that Dad always liked to fuck people over. I’m guessing he’s been laughing in his grave over this one. It was literally a no-win situation.’
Lucy sighed. ‘He sounds like a bastard.’
‘He was. Pure and simple. He was an asshole to Duncan’s mom, and he was an asshole to mine. He didn’t treat either of us much better. And from what I can tell he had no interest in Glencarraig or his title. He never went to the clan meetings, hardly went to the village. He was an absentee landlord, and the place has suffered be
cause of it. It needs investment and someone with a vision.’
Lucy blinked. ‘Wait a minute, you’re not thinking of moving there full time, are you?’
‘No.’
‘Then what? How are you going to avoid your dad’s mistakes if you’re the laird?’
‘Because I’m not the laird. Or I won’t be.’
She stared at him. ‘What does that mean? Duncan’s moving there?’
‘He won’t be the laird either.’