Page 138 of Princess of Pride
I climb from the bed and walk to the sitting area in front of the fireplace where they’re arranging the tray and wine.
Margo gestures to it. “Is there anything else you might need?”
“It looks wonderful. Thank you.”
“Have a good night.” Margo nods, and Fable follows behind her, averting her gaze the way she often does.
The last time Wes was here, he noticed her and did a double take like he’d seen a ghost. Something was up with that stare. I can’t imagine someone like Wes with someone like her. He’d corrupt her in every way imaginable.
Lachlan comes up behind me and presses his erection against my lower back and butt. He runs his hands down my arms and leans over my shoulder. “What would you like to start with?”
“Food or sex?”
“Your call,mo bhana-phrionnsa.”
That voice in Gaelic, and his oaky rainstorm scent. I stifle a moan.
“The strawberries look good. Hey!” I turn to face him, noticing his shirt is completely off. “You said you had a surprise for me.”
He grins. “You distracted me. You always distract me.”
My lips reflexively tilt with a smile. “What is it?”
“This.” He holds out the palm of his hand. “It’s our contract.”
“There’s nothing there.”
“Because there’s no contract. I had it terminated.”
I blink in shock, mulling over what this means. “Are we still married?”
“Yes. At the Sea House, it was official. I made sure of it. It’s why we signed new documents.”
I let this sink in further and walk my fingers up his chest. “Does that mean I’m free to go?”
He lifts his chin, his eyes darkening as he grips my hips. “You can leave, but I’ll be following you.”
“Even if I go to Scotland?”
He thinks for a minute, turmoil showing on his strained features. “Even there.”
He won’t go there for anything, but he’d go there for me. Once Lachlan is yours, it’s forever. The man is fiercely loyal. Little did I know that was the kind of man I needed.
I clasp my hands behind his neck. “Lucky for you, I don’t have a trip planned anytime soon.”
He kisses me in the commanding way he does everything, owning the moment, owning my body, my heart, leaving me breathless–even passed out on occasion—and always desperate for more. My love, my beast, my everything.
