Page 45 of Princess of Pride
Lachlan’s accent is more like Prince Harry, but subtle.
Aqua blue eyes catch mine. “Are you staying?”
“I have to use the bathroom,” I say with a polite smile.
Lachlan’s eyes narrow with concern.
“I’m fine with using the one on the plane, if it’s here,” I add in case he thinks I’m trying to run again.
I’m not. I do want to call my mom though and see if I can get her to help me. I don’t believe for a second she’d be okay with Lachlan removing me from the country for an undetermined time. Who would she torture in my absence? Then again, maybe she’d like it and ask to visit his castle.
A new idea springs to mind. If I invite my mom to stay with us in Scotland, Lachlan might get annoyed enough to send us both back to America. Then I can finally start my business.
I mentally cheer myself for the cunning scheme.
“The jet isn’t ready yet. I’ll escort you to the bathroom and wait for you to finish. I don’t trust you otherwise.”
Figured. “Fine.”
“I’ll also be touching you.”
I open my mouth to protest but close it. We’re in public. The last thing I want is for him to renegotiate the terms to his advantage and take away my trust fund like my dad did.
He climbs out of the car then holds his hand out to me. I take it and let him help me to my feet. A gust blows my skirt up too quickly for me to catch it. All three men glimpse my whitelace panties. Rory glances away as if he saw nothing. Wes gives me an appalled look like I planned for that to happen, and Lachlan’s nostrils flare like he’s about to emit steam.
I shove down the fabric and keep my hands at my sides, securing the hem.
Lachlan yanks me to him, so close I have to move my hand out from between us. There is no place for me to put it but around his waist. His is secured around mine.
Nothing about us feels natural. Stiff and awkward are better words.
He nods for Wes and Rory to walk ahead then bends to my ear. “I’m having weights sewn into the hem of all your dresses.”
“I’m sure you will.” I mock and walk, pinned to his side, to the airport.
In the lobby, I try to head for the ladies' room, but Lachlan stops me.
“I need to talk to the pilot. Wes will take you to the bathroom.”
“I’m not. Going. Anywhere,” I state in a low voice. “I swear.”
“It’s for your safety.”
I scoff. “Safety my ass.”
His gaze tightens on my mouth again like he wants to gag me.
“Wesley will take you.”
“Whyhim?” Why not Rory, who is much more enjoyable and less rigid? I’d even settle for the hulking Connal, but I don’t see him.
“Trust me.”
“Trust you?” I laugh. “I don’t trust anything about you.”
Regret shows in his eyes. Maybe. It’s hard to tell because they turn glacial so quickly. He squeezes me tighter. “You will go with Wes or not at all.”
“Fine.” I pry his fingers from my waist. He wasn’t hurting me, more like annoying me.
