Page 48 of Pure Vengeance

The bed creaked under us as he made love to me, and I wanted it to slam against the wall. I wanted everyone in thehouse to hear us, but my climax came too fast and too hard to give me a single second to breathe—much less ask for what I wanted.

Lachlan cursed again and stiffened above me. His cock swelled and I felt every single quiver as he erupted inside me. His heavy body fell to mine and I wrapped my arms around him as I sighed happily.

The day finally caught up with me and my eyes closed with him still inside me.

“Totally worth it,” I slurred, unable to shut my stupid mouth. “I’m so glad to be your wife.”

Lachlan

Damn her.

Natasha fucked me stupid and unconscious, then left my bed. Worse, she’d been a virgin. The pinkish tinge of blood on my cock put paid to my insistence that she wasn’t.

I couldn’t decide how I felt about it, yet part of me wanted to preen at giving her pleasure for her first time.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, and I cursed softly before getting up to shower and dress in jeans and a worn T-shirt. As I slipped my feet into my shoes, a knock sounded at my door. Thinking it was my errant wife, who would soon take her place where she belonged, I said, “Come in.”

To my surprise, Chelsea, my cook, walked in and said, “Your wife is in the kitchen making French toast stuffed with mascarpone, wild berry compote, and grilled sausage. There is also a pitcher of mimosas with fresh orange juice.”

“All right. Thank you.”

She nodded and took off her apron, then laid it over a chair. “Mr. O’Donnell, I’m not going to stop what you’re doing, but I won’t help you either. I’ve arranged for a meal delivery service to meet your future needs.”

“Wait.” Frowning, I held up my hand to stop her from leaving. “Are you quitting?”

She gave me a brief, humorless smile and patted a stray hair back into her customary gray chignon. “Let’s call it a leave of absence. I’ll return when your common sense does.”

Without another word, she walked out.

“Fuck.” I scraped a hand through my hair and texted Saoirse, instructing her to meet me for breakfast.

It was time to get things started, and judging by Chelsea’s behavior, not a moment too soon. Natasha wouldn’t be permitted to charm anyone else on my staff.

To my surprise, my sister was already seated at the breakfast table with a plate of food in front of her. Natasha hovered nervously, still wearing a full face of makeup and a T-shirt over leggings.

“Is it good?” she asked after Saoirse took a bite. “I can totally make something else.”

Saoirse waved her hand and shook her head as she chewed. After swallowing, she said, “Do not even dare. This is amazing.”

“It certainly smells amazing,” I said.

Natasha squeaked and rushed to the stove. “Have a seat, Lachlan. I’ll make you a plate.”

Christ. She was just as dumbly innocent as Saoirse thought. I was going to end up burning in hell next to her father, but I couldn’t let my revenge fade just because I was having second thoughts.

I poured myself a mimosa from the frosty pitcher, then leaned close to Saoirse. “Her appointment is in less than anhour. I don’t want to hear a word from you. Just take her and get it done.”

Before she could reply, I handed her the small box containing the jewelry Natasha would wear for the next six weeks. “Don’t fuck up.”

“And a happy good morning to you too.” Glaring at me, she broke a white capsule over Natasha’s drink and swirled it until the powder dissolved. “Also, fuck you without lube.”

“Here we go!” Natasha laid a plate in front of me, then fidgeted nervously before I took a bite of sausage.

“Delicious, sweetheart. Thank you.” I cut a piece of French toast and nearly moaned at the taste. “You’re a wonderful cook.”

Her delighted smile nearly stopped my heart, but I ignored the twinge in my gut.

“I poured you a glass,” Saoirse said, holding the doctored mimosa out for her. “And also, I’m low-key kidnapping you for the day. We’re going shopping, and maybe to the day spa for mani-pedis.”

---