by Anna Durand
Lachlan placed one big hand on my cheek. "That eejit's wrong. You are the hottest chick in this place."
Still soaring, I clasped my hand over his. "I was afraid you might not come. I mean, I know how much you hate this place."
"I will always come for you." He shifted his hand, cupping my nape. "Always."
Yesterday, when I reached my decision, I'd promised myself from here on out I'd be honest with him, no matter what. Okay, here goes. "I miss you. I want to make this work, but we need to talk about a few things first."
His expression blanked, his mouth went slack. He spoke slowly, his tone measured. "Are you sure that's what you want?"
"Positive." I brushed my lips over his, murmuring against them. "Can't deny the truth anymore. I love you. I want to be with you, for as long as you'll have me."
"As long as I'll have you?" He shook his head, eyebrows squished together. His accent thickened with an emotion that roughened his voice. "I'll be having ye for the rest of our lives and whatever comes after. Ye'll not be getting away from me again."
"I wasn't sure if you were sick of my angst."
Lachlan shook his head again, his lips parting. "Don't be daft, lass. I'll never get sick of you."
His hand on my hip glided up my back, over my shoulder, grazing across my collarbone to flutter over my throat and settle on cheek. His blue eyes, glinting in the flashing strobe lights, enthralled me. I could've gazed into those eyes forever, but I needed an unequivocal answer from him. "The real question is, are you sure?"
He wound his arms around me and held on like he'd never let go. "I've let go of the past, once and for all. Losing you woke me up and forced me to see what I'd done to myself — to you. All I know is I can't abide a future without you in it."
My breaths grew labored as the import of his statement sunk in. He ducked his head close to mine, but just when he spoke, the music crescendoed to deafening levels and drowned out his words. I cupped a hand over my ear, shouting to be heard. "What? I can't hear you."
He pulled in a deep breath and, in the instant the song ended, he hollered, "I love you."
Everyone in the club turned to stare at us. Some looked baffled, others amused, and still more glared at us like we'd committed a heinous crime by interrupting their dancing. Who cared what they thought? Lachlan had spoken the words. Well okay, he yelled them so loud his voice reverberated off the club's walls and rattled my eardrums, but yeah. He'd said it.
Tears streamed down my face. Stupid hormones.
I staggered backward, turning away from him, my heart in my throat. It was time to tell him everything. Time to face the consequences and put his commitment to the ultimate test.
Lachlan came up behind me, stroking his hands over my shoulders. "I love you, Erica. Did ye not hear me?"
"People on Jupiter heard you." My fingers clenched in the fabric of my dress, I gnawed the inside of my cheek. My heart was racing, my thoughts were spinning. He slid his hands down my inner arms. When his skin grazed the insides of my elbows, I shuddered. His hands skated down, past my wrists, and he fitted his palms into mine, lacing our fingers together, tugging me into him.
When he bent to whisper in my ear, I shut my eyes and sagged into him. His lips fluttered over my earlobe. "What's wrong, gràidh? You said you wanted to talk, but now you're pulling away."
"Sorry. I do want to talk, but I'm —" Honesty from now on, remember? "I'm afraid you won't like what I have to say."
His fingers tightened around my hands. "Nothing you might say will change how I feel. I love you and I swear I will never leave you again."
How did he infuse those simple words with so much passion and certainty? I squeezed his fingers, my heart swelling with a dizzying whirlpool of emotions. I yearned to believe him. No… I did believe him. The truth of his declaration rang in my soul.
The music started up again. Bass thumped through the floor as a woman's sensual voice purred about desire unheeded. Lachlan slipped one arm around my waist to hug me close, his cheek pressed to mine. When his hand drifted down to shield my womb, his fingers swirling over the fabric of my dress, I swallowed hard. I'd missed him so much.
"Please, Erica." His sultry plea sent another shiver through me. He raised our joined hands to his lips, fluttering kisses over my knuckles. "Trust me to love you no matter what."
I nodded, my insides quivering. Fear. Anticipation. Desire. They all coalesced into a ball in my stomach. I croaked, "I reserved a private booth."
He hustled me around the dance floor's perimeter, past couples entwined in each other's arms, cloaked in shadowy corners, engaged in kisses so erotic and intense they might've been illegal in public. More couples flowed off the dance floor, still linked in hip-grinding action, twirling around us like participants in a pagan ceremony of fertility. Lachlan grasped my hand tighter, tugged me close to him, and placed a protective arm around my shoulders. He shot a dark glare at a man whose gaze flew to my half-exposed cleavage as we passed him. The man cringed and swung his attention to the dance floor.
Lachlan ushered me out of the main club area, around a half wall, down the hallway that housed the private booths, each hidden behind plum-colored velvet curtains. Lavender light showered down from bulbs recessed in the ceiling, painting our skin in otherworldly shades. The walls dulled the urgent beat of the music, but my urgent need for Lachlan only escalated into a deep throbbing between my thighs. Two months plus raging hormones equaled one horny accountant — er, unemployed former accountant. I had to get a handle on my lust, though, because we really did have important matters to discuss.
I pointed toward the third booth. "That one."
Halting in front of it, Lachlan swept the curtains aside with one hand. His other hand landed on the small of my back, urging me inside. A U-shaped sofa sat tucked behind an oval table, with a single lamp on the tabletop, its light bathing the space in a creamy, intimate glow. When I scooted across the sofa, my dress caught on the purple velvet upholstery and rode up my thighs.
Lachlan stifled a groan.
I glanced up to find him engrossed by my exposed thigh, his lips parted, tongue flicking out to moisten them. I tried to yank the hem down, but it wouldn't budge. The velvet held it fast, and unless I stood up, no way was it moving. I gave up.
He lowered his body onto the sofa beside me, one arm draped across the back behind my shoulders. His other hand lighted on my bare thigh. "You still drive me mad, without even trying to."
"Ditto." I gulped down a gasp when he pressed his palm onto my leg, his fingers delving down to stroke my inner thigh. "I should be more circumspect about this, but I lose my mind whenever I'm close to you."
"I know the feeling."
Fingers. Petting. Igniting. The blaze erupted in my core and flashed through my entire body. Off kilter, again. But it felt wonderful.
He slanted toward me, his lips within kissing distance. "What did you need to say?"
"Guh…" Nothing else would come out of my mouth. My lips tingled with the need to taste him again — and this time, let the fire consume us both until nothing existed except our limbs entangled and our bodies merged in rhythmic hunger.
"Still afraid?" He feathered kisses along my jaw, light and teasing. "You can tell me anything, Erica."
Could I? My hand rose to cover my belly. If he freaked out on me again, I didn't know what I'd do. Hit him. Burst into tears. My heart would be shattered for sure this time, with no chance of repairing the damage.
"I'll go first," he said, pulling back a little, though he stayed close enough the scent of his cologne enveloped me. "I'm divorced, finally and forever. I made certain of that."
"Congratulations." I wriggled in place when his fingers began stroking the exposed skin of my shoulder. I rested my hands on my knees, but his fingers on my thigh wrecked my attempt at composure.
"Not looking for congratulations."
"What, then?"
"I want what you promised me
yesterday when you thought I couldn't hear. I want — I need for you to say it now."
No point denying I understood what he meant. "Okay."
His hand on my thigh tensed, his fingers curled.
"I forgive you, Lachlan."
Chapter Thirty-Two
He leaned in again, his breaths tickling my lips. "I took the last two months to clear out my life. Finalize the divorce. Sell my company." He withdrew his hand from my thigh, clenching it on his lap. "And to work out my, uh… fears."
I turned my face to his without thinking and wound up eye to eye with him, our mouths grazing each other. My heart stuttered, my stomach flip-flopped. For a man's man like Lachlan to admit he'd been afraid took guts. But I didn't understand why he'd made such drastic changes in his life. "Why sell your business?"
"Because I don't need the income anymore, and I've lost my taste for helping avaricious elites stuff their coffers with more money than they'll ever spend."
My brows lifted. "Were all your clients that bad?"
"No, most were good folk. But I'd had enough of the few greedy ones." He scratched his jaw, his lips contorting. "I want a better life. I want to build a family, but I'm missing the keystone."
"And what's that?"
His voice was soft, almost a whisper. "You, Erica. You are the keystone, and the life I want will fall down around me without you."
"Oh." The blood must've evacuated my face because my cheeks no longer sizzled. I opened my mouth to speak again but clapped it shut. I had no clue what on earth to say.
His pulse throbbed in his neck and he took slow, controlled breaths as he watched me with wary eyes. He scooted closer until our bodies collided and his mouth hovered so near mine I could taste his breath. "I made a mistake. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I love you, lass, with all that I am. My life will be meaningless without you in it."
Surprised by the steady, deep pitch of his voice, I searched his face, noting the determined set of his jaw and the clarity in his eyes.
He reached into the breast pocket of his T-shirt and took hold of a small object I couldn't see. With it concealed in his palm, fingers closed over it, he offered his hand to me. "This is yours, whether you take me back or not. It's a token of my love and respect for you, both of which will never die. I'm yours forever, my sweet Erica, my gràidh, the bonniest, sexiest lass ever to grace this earth and the cleverest, strongest woman I've ever known."
His words burrowed deep into my soul, fanning a flame that had never quite died, no matter what he might've done. I couldn't let the flame sputter out because that meant I'd given up on him.
Lachlan spread his fingers, revealing the object in his palm. A diamond ring.
I stared at the ring, at its gold band topped by a glittering diamond. Tasteful. Beautiful. Not so large I'd feel weird wearing it, but not too small either. Perfect. I jerked my head up and our gazes intersected, locked together as if a steel cable had snapped taut between us and nothing could sever the connection. The air around us seemed to crackle with the energy of our passion and adoration for each other.
He crooked a finger under my chin. "Will you marry me?"
My gaze flitted to the ring. Tell him now. My trembling hand flew to my throat, but I could not break eye contact with him. Staring into the depths of his topaz-blue eyes, a certainty resonated through my soul. I trusted him. So, I confessed — in a roundabout way. "Remember on our road trip, the first night we stayed in the bed-and-breakfast?"
"Yes. I upset you, though I didn't understand why at the time."
"Now you do?"
He nodded. "I was still pretending I could walk away from you and feel nothing about it."
"It's all in the past." I folded my arms over my belly. Telling him the whole truth suddenly seemed vitally important, for reasons I couldn't fathom. "Do you remember what happened after I threw my boots at you?"
He flashed me a grin. "I made love to you, and after, you were very relaxed."
"Uh-huh." I watched his profile, losing myself for a moment in the rugged beauty of his features and the knowledge he was mine, for good. I cleared my throat and forged ahead. "We forgot something."
"I don't follow you, sweet. You'll need to be a wee bit more specific in what you're trying to say."
My instinct was to look away, but I made myself meet his gaze head-on. "No condom."
He arched one eyebrow at me, then his gaze went distant as if he were mentally rewinding to the night in question. He relaxed, brushing his lips over my cheek as he patted my naked thigh. The casual touch segued into a long, sensual caress that had me squirming. His voice flowed through me like the warmth of whisky in my veins. "Hardly matters now."
"You don't understand." I winced, wringing my hands on my lap. "I'm pregnant."
His eyes bulged. A fragile smile tugged at his lips, faltering in repeated attempts to take hold, until at last a grin overpowered his face, tightening lines of joy around his eyes. "We're having a bairn?"
My brain could produce nothing more meaningful than a grunt and a nod. Maybe he hadn't yet realized what I'd been fumbling to say. "It's my fault."
His hand stilled, but his voice stayed sexy and sweet, with a hint of pleasure in his tone. "Your fault?" He shook his head. "Is this what you were afraid to tell me? Did you think I'd be angry?"
I hunched my shoulders and hugged myself. "Should've reminded you. About, you know, the condom."
"I seduced you that night." He sighed, nuzzling my neck. "It was my responsibility to remember a condom. I got so caught up in needing to wipe that frown off your face, I forgot everything else. It's my fault."
"Are you sorry it happened?"
"I'm sorry I was so careless with you." His hand started moving again, drifting higher, perilously close to my mound. He dragged his lips down my throat, then angled his face up to mine. "But I could never regret making a bairn with you."
The anxiety flooded out of me so suddenly I sagged into the sofa back, relief freeing me to gaze at him with loving admiration. "Neither could I."
I nodded, helpless to speak anymore. Tears filled my eyes — tears of elation this time.
Something metallic pressed into my cheek, and I realized he had the ring hooked over one finger. I grasped his hand, drawing it down to my chest, holding it over my heart. I plucked the ring off his fingertip. "Yes."
"What?"
"Are you deaf? The answer is yes. I would love to marry you, Lachlan."
His laughter, deep and throaty, resonated in his chest. A reckless grin spread his lips wide, making him resemble a child who'd just gotten the most expensive toy ever for Christmas. "Thank you, gràidh. Thank God for creating a treasure like you and, heaven almighty, thank you for giving me another chance." He peppered kisses over my cheeks, my jaw, my chin. "You will never regret it, I swear on my life."
I soared through the stratosphere again, lightened of a burden I hadn't realized had weighed me down until this moment. The diamond sparkled in the muted light, held between my thumb and forefinger. Half crying, half giggling like a schoolgirl, I said, "Are you going to put this thing on my finger or what?"
"Och, yes." He hauled me onto his lap and shimmied down the sofa to its end. Rising, he deposited me on the sofa with my feet hanging off it. My dress had ridden up even higher to crumple around my waist, and my black lace panties peeked out from under the fabric.
Lachlan knelt before me on one knee. His gaze flicked down to my panties. He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, blinked furiously, and lifted his gaze to my face. The familiar hunger simmered in his eyes and roughened his voice. He took the ring, raising it between us. "You are the center of my universe, Erica Teague, and I'm blessed to have you for my wife."
"My goodness, I've never heard you babble before tonight." I grinned despite the tears flowing down my cheeks because they were borne of pure, unadulterated bliss. "You really are a changed man."
He slipped the rin
g onto my finger, head bowed, and turned his eyes up to look at me. "Don't care if I sound like an eejit. Best get used to my babbling because I intend to let you know every single day how much I cherish you." He dropped his head, pressing his puckered lips to my belly. "And our bairn. Which I'm certain will be a bonnie wee lassie just like you."
When he tilted his head back to smile at me, I bent to rest my forehead on his. "I think it'll be a boy. Braw and handsome like his father."
"Hmm. Maybe we should have several bairns, to make sure we get a boy and a girl."
"How about dozens of little MacTaggarts running around in the heather?"
"Dozens, aye." A smile of unrestrained joy broke across his beautiful face. With half-closed eyes, he drank me in from top to bottom as if he were plotting which lascivious acts he would lure me into tonight. His gaze hiccupped at my breasts, but then he met my eyes and captured my face in his hands once more. His lips teased mine, his tongue sketching the outline of my mouth with short, erotic licks. I thrust my hands into his hair to drag him in for a bone-melting kiss, our hot tongues wrestling, our moans and groans muffled by each other's mouths. When I was on fire from head to toe, inside and out, I broke away.
Lachlan pulled me tight against his hard, aroused body. "Not done with you."
My breasts were crushed to his chest, aching for his touch. The hard ridge of his erection pressed into my belly, and my sex began to throb. "Oh Lachlan."
He shoved his fingers inside my panties, down into my cleft. "You're so wet."
"Please, wait —" His fingers stroked my sex in slow, powerful circles. I shuddered with a hunger so intense it derailed my train of thought. I threw my head back, exposing my throat to him. He licked and nipped and kissed his way up from my collarbone to my ear, suckling the lobe while his fingers tormented my clit. I gasped. "Not here. Please."
