Lochlan, p.17
Lochlan, page 17
She tilts her head, studying me. “Where did you meet your Kenzie?”
She's baiting me for another round of what I want is irrelevant, and only what she wants matters. “We met when she was hired to work in the tasting room, you know that.”
“Are you sure you didn't have a casting call to find her? It's like you were looking for a substitute for me. You don't need a replacement. I'm here.”
Fiona perches on the conference table and with deft hands she pulls the red sweater over her head. It comes to rest in a crimson wool puddle beside her. There's not even a scrap of lace on her body. She leans back, her beautiful breasts on display.
I sigh. I'd forgotten how brazen she can be when she wants something. That's the reason I refused to speak with her after I called off the wedding. I feared it would end with us in bed and me agreeing to anything as long as she let me have her body. I had to get away then or it would never have happened.
I openly observe what was once mine to take and consider what she's offering. There's much more at stake than me coming back to her. There will be a price to pay for my betrayal. The wee temptress knows just how to snare me. I've always loved the soft curves of her body and I can't deny that I want her now.
“It's me you want, Lochlan, and that hungry stare says you know it's true.” She pulls the wee band from her hair. The mass of loose coffee-colored curls lands seductively over one shoulder. She uses her hands to shake loose more of her hair, giving me another treat for the eyes. Fiona has always been beautiful and during our three years apart, she's grown more lovely.
“This isn't the way to conduct a civil conversation,” I say, taking a step back, but not before her hand clasps my arm to urge me to her.
When I'm close, her fingers find my belt, and her nails dig past the leather into my flesh. I draw closer when her legs open.
I forget my objections and act without thinking, falling back into the familiar. I palm her breast and bury my other hand in the soft tresses of her hair, pulling her head back for a homecoming kiss. We're locked in the uncomplicated past and I'm falling for what I couldn't find all these years.
“You still love me, Lochlan,” she purrs as confirmation.
I pass my tongue between her open lips in response, and it feels like quenching a fire and fanning a flame at the same time as we rediscover an attraction that was always below the surface.
Her hands cradle my face, our foreheads touching, and she’s waiting for my response.
“I've missed you,” I admit and try to steal another kiss, but I'm only able to graze her lips.
“I've fantasized about our reunion,” she says, pouting a wee bit. “Sadly, this isn't how I imagined us together again, but we do what we must.” She slips off the table toward the door, pushing in the button lock. “We've been reckless until now. I want no interruptions.”
She's back in my arms, tempting me again with a slow and wanting kiss that neither of us is likely to break soon. It's strange how there's no wondering what she wants me to do. I know her as well as I know my own body.
My hands slip to her waist as I break the kiss. “Take the rest of it off. I want to see you naked, lass,” I say, trying to slide my hand into her pants to help her out of this fabric barrier. She tosses her head while pushing me away to take a few steps back. Fiona does a sensual wiggle out of her pants while she watches me staring at her bouncing tits. The show is enough of a turn-on that I might want to yank the rest of her clothes off myself. I fight the urge and stay content that she's doing this exaggerated dance to please me.
With every stitch gone, Fiona's arms extend out in some kind of faux ballerina move, letting me look at her in this harsh boardroom light. She turns slowly, chin tilted up, chest high for me to see that round bum of hers. When I can't take the teasing any longer, I pull her back into my arms. She won't still; she pushes against me to get free. I release her to see what she has in mind next.
She stands on her toes to graze my lips, then slides slowly down my length to her knees as my heart thumps a hard rhythm. When she's before me like a supplicant, her voice is determined. “I want to welcome you properly, so that you have no doubt I want you back,” she says, with fingers at the button of my jeans, then she roughly pulls down the zipper, exposing my hard cock that's ready for what she has in mind. I think of nothing but her soft lips teasing the tip of my cock. She's not the only one who's thought about a reunion. She glances up at me while she gives me a hard jerk, as if I need more encouragement. I breathe out a “fuck me blind,” as her hot, moist mouth takes me inside and I close my eyes, moving my hips.
Fiona only gives me this gift as a tease before she climbs on me for a ride. I'll enjoy it for as long as I can, preparing to move this action to the table so she can mount me.
She breathes in and takes more of me inside and I'm about to lose it when she glances up at me with the look of a demon, pushing down the gag reflex to take me in deeper.
She's using her lips and tongue in a way that's new. The thought of her doing this…I can't help but wonder who taught her how to give pleasure like this. The thought is short-lived, as her mouth and hands move together. I guide her where I need her to be and to fuck me; she knows what to do. She continues until I can't sustain it. I shoot my come, as she pulls her mouth away, holding my cock with both hands to steer my fluid onto her face and breasts. She looks up at me, smiling, her face dripping.
CHAPTER 23
CHANGE OF HEARTS
KENZIE
Ian and Geordie entertain me for an hour during Lochlan's absence. When Lochlan doesn't return going into the next hour, I make an excuse that I'd like to nap before dinner and head for our room. There were a few moments when I thought to stop by the conference room, but that was in the opposite direction from our suite, and I didn't want anyone to think that I had a problem with Lochlan meeting Fiona.
I change and pace around the suite, check my phone, and try to stop unjustified anger that Lochlan is cheating on me with Fiona. This was a deal, that I would be his fake girlfriend to show his grandfather he was responsible. If he used me to get back with the fiancé he jilted, that has nothing to do with me. I just want to get my proof that we slept together and then I can gladly quit MacTavish Cellars, partner with Poppy, and have my shot at Olympic gold.
I'm about to climb the walls, looking for another distraction, when there's tapping at my door. It couldn't be Lochlan; why would he knock? It's probably Aubrey with a message. I open the door to Geordie in a suit jacket and kilt, grinning at me like a Cheshire cat. He tries to look past me into the room.
“He's not here,” I say. “Please come in.”
If Geordie is concerned that Lochlan is not here, he doesn't show it.
“I was wondering if you like Scottish television? I was down at the home theater. It's located underground. I was looking at their collection of streaming services and noticed the house has a subscription to Britbox. Are you familiar with that service?”
I chuckle. “There's a lot of British television to watch on Britbox. I've been binge watching Miranda.”
“Ah, well, I like murder mysteries and I've been watching Shetland. I've just begun season three. We have some time before dinner. I thought you might want to watch with me, or if you prefer to watch Miranda, we can see that instead.”
He's trying to help me keep my mind off of whatever Lochlan is doing. “I would love to watch something with you in the home theater.” I grab my sweater off the back of a chair and follow this big man to a stairwell leading to the basement. This is a large house and the home theater is a mini version of its larger commercial cousin, with a few exceptions. The theater, with its wooden floor and gray walls with deep lavender accents, can easily seat thirty people. There's a well-stocked bar that seats about ten people on one side of the space, away from the main viewing area. The screen is the size of the wall. The chocolate leather chairs are over-sized loungers that sit in graduated rows, perfect for stretching out while you munch your popcorn from the machine in the corner.
Geordie gives me a brief tour of the room, then leads me to the middle of the front row. I've never seen Shetland and tell him I'd like to see that series, because I'm not sure he would appreciate Miranda's humor.
He calls up the service, dims the lights, and we're transported to the Shetland Islands and the current murder that must be solved for that season. The opening credits appear over the stark beauty of the green land and gray water.
Geordie is a comforting presence sitting next to me. Although we're here in the dark to relax, I can't help but feel betrayed. I know I have no right, but I do. My eyes moisten and I wipe the warm tears away, relieved we're in the dark and he can't see. When I place my hand on the armrest between us, Geordie places his hand over mine and gives it a brotherly pat. He leans toward me. In a low, soothing voice, he says, “Don't worry, lass, it will be all right, I promise.”
I blow out a breath. “Geordie, I'd like to talk before the movie.”
“Sure, if that will please you.” He picks up the remote and the Scottish pipes stop. Two whitewashed buildings nestled against a mossy hill with the dark sea beyond are frozen on the screen, like a poster at the visitor's center. I toured these islands on a trip with my parents when I was a kid. My vivid memories are of wearing new all-weather boots and gear to hike through the piercing cold and the boggy terrain. He reaches for another remote for the lights.
“Please,” I say, “don't turn on the light. I might not have the courage to ask these questions in full light.”
We aren't in complete darkness; I can see his face clearly enough to judge if what he tells me is true. No need to worry; I doubt this soft-hearted man is capable of lying. “I know you and Lochlan are close. Will you tell me why he called off his wedding with Fiona?”
He twists his body in the seat to deliver his answer, and his eyes signal more seriousness. “We're close. I'd say I'm closer to him than his brother Harris, which isn't saying much. There's little I don't know about my cousin, but after asking several times myself, he's refused to give me an answer.”
“Ian says Lochlan and Fiona have known each other since they were children.”
“They've been together since they were teenagers. What's your real question? There's no point hiding your intention.”
I steel myself to ask what's been bothering me. “Do you think they'll get back together? If this is too personal, remind me it's none of my business.”
“That appears to be the question of the day. Truthfully, I don't know. If it comforts you, I'm hoping there won't be a reunion.”
The hour we spend in the dark helps my composure. It doesn't matter, I say to myself. I am playing a part.
We call for Aubrey to help us navigate this endless structure and lead us to the dining room. The too-large table is set for five people at one end. There should be a smaller room for dining. The kitchen must have a table to accommodate five people, but I can't see Ian agreeing to eat in the kitchen.
This is a formal, masculine space. A chocolate paneled wall along one side is broken by four large maple wood squares the size of a painting with light fixtures over each faux painting square. There's no need for art on this wall, not with wide floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides of the room that open a spectacular view to this side of the land surrounding the house.
Geordie and I are in the far corner of this space, discussing the motives of a murderer, when Ian strolls in with Fiona on his arm. I breathe an unintended sigh of relief that Lochlan and Fiona didn't walk in together. They join our conversation while Aubrey appears, offering wine from a tray. Fiona is cordial, even light in her banter, and that twists my insides, making me increasingly uncomfortable with her presence.
Her light laughter fills the room when Lochlan arrives in his jacket and dress kilt like the other men. He moves toward us with a dark purpose, his attention on me. He nods to the others, mumbling an “excuse us,” while pulling me aside out of earshot with Geordie a few steps behind him. “You weren't in the room; we agreed you'd wait. Where did you go?” he whispers.
Geordie places a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to glance over his shoulder. “She was with me, cousin, sitting in the dark.”
It looks as though Lochlan will brush off his cousin's touch. “I didn't ask you. I asked Kenzie.”
Geordie reads Lochlan's mood and slides his hand off without a challenge. He shrugs. “You should have better manners, man. Never leave a lovely lass unattended.”
Fiona watches us as she drinks deeply from her glass, unable to hear our discussion, while half-listening to Ian. Lochlan's attention hasn't wavered from me since he entered the room.
“What Geordie means,” I say, pulling away from his grip, “is that we went to the home theater downstairs to watch TV. It was a series Geordie has been binge watching. You weren't around, so he thought to invite me to join him.”
“You were away for a long time. I thought Kenzie could use some company, instead of waiting for you to show.”
Lochlan gives him a dark glance. “Aye, well, there were more questions that needed answers. Fiona has all the information she needs. She promised to have her report ready for Granda tomorrow.”
“If your conversation is that interesting,” Ian calls from the corner of the room, “then let's discuss it over dinner. Aubrey has informed me they're ready to serve the meal.”
“It was nothing, Granda,” Lochlan says, staring a warning at Geordie. “A misunderstanding that's been cleared up.”
Ian levels his gaze at both his grandsons, not convinced of the explanation. “Come then, we'll talk about other things. Take your seats. Kenzie, take the chair to my right and you, Fiona, to my left. I want to see loveliness while I eat my meal.”
Lochlan helps to seat me, while Geordie assists Fiona under their grandfather's critical eye. There's no talk of business during the consuming of a lamb chop and three vegetables. The discussion meanders through the latest exploits of mutual friends, local Edinburgh politics, nothing that would flare passions. I'm asked a few questions for politeness' sake that require only a few sentences of reply.
I notice Fiona's intent gaze on Lochlan even when he doesn’t speak. For a civil dinner, it is a tense affair filled with conversation that hides explosive drama just below the surface.
We finish our cranachan dessert without incident. I pray, as the staff removes our bowls, that Ian will be too tired after dinner to continue his visit with his grandsons, but I'm wrong.
We leave the dining room for a cozy living room of dark chairs and couches, the curtains drawn and a fire dancing in the grate. They pass whiskey around. I'm seated in a chair by the fire and Lochlan stands near me, one hand resting on the chair, still trying to show that we are a couple, to the dismay of Fiona.
I'm on edge with Lochlan pretending nothing has changed while Ian and Geordie say nothing. The whiskey, a full stomach, and the heat from the grate have me longing for an end to this visit. Ian resumes some of this storytelling, recalling adventures of the courageous MacTavish women that I could never hope to emulate.
I can't say how long our stay in the living room lasts; the fire is electric and burns at the same intensity since we came to this room. I sip my drink, listening to Lochlan finish a story about a winery mishap. When he's done, Ian speaks.
“Before I leave you all for my bed, I want to say I've enjoyed visiting with my grandsons and meeting the bonnie Miss MacGregor. I'll be leaving for Scotland in the wee hours of tomorrow to start my long journey home. As I've said before, I want to wake up in my bed on Christmas morning. You're all welcome to stay here for the weekend and beyond, if it suits you. I rented the house for a month.”
“We'll miss you, Granda,” Lochlan says.
“Aye, and I'll miss my two grandsons.”
“We hope you both will have a safe journey back,” Geordie says.
Of the two, Geordie seems to be the most affected by the end of this brief visit with his grandfather; he might be missing home more than Lochlan.
“Thank you. I've decided that since there was a slow start to Catriona, help is needed to push this project forward. Lochlan, you'll have increased funding for this phase only. Use the MacTavish marketing department to help select an American marketing firm for the project. I'll also leave Fiona here to help you secure backers. After that's accomplished, I'll decide on who will be in charge of Catriona and the California wine operation.”
CHAPTER 24
DRIVE-BY LOVE
LOCHLAN
When Granda leaves the room, it takes away our incentive to remain. Geordie and Fiona glance at me as though they want a private word. I ignore their silent signals and bid them a good night before they leave for their rooms. When we're alone, I ask Kenzie to wait with me until I'm sure everyone has gone to their beds to avoid a conversation with Geordie or Fiona. It's a silent ten minutes in the living room, staring at the fire together, until it's time to escort Kenzie back to our suite.
We stroll down a quiet, carpeted hallway. Kenzie walks a wee bit in front of me, staring ahead as if she's walking alone. I don't dare touch her because I caused the unease between us. When I push the door open, she sweeps past me into the room. Standing in the middle of the space, she yanks the halves of her sweater tighter across her body. Her chin tilts up in defiance, but it's as if she's having a problem forming a question.
The room is just as we left it—the section of the bed comforter we laid on is rumpled from our brief session, and our cases, with our clothes exposed, are on the bed. I'd like to continue where we left off and have her screaming my name with pleasure as I planned, but it isn't right to be that selfish after I've been with Fiona. Even I couldn't be that unfeeling, so out of an awkward respect, because there's no etiquette for what I allowed to happen, I keep my distance.
