Lachlan (Dangerous Doms #5) - Jane Henry Page 0,78
the toe of his boot, and when we step in the room, overhead lighting flickers on immediately. It’s gorgeous in here, ivory tile and large, lighted mirrors, a shower enclosed in glass, and fresh flowers. He sits on the edge of a huge whirlpool bath and turns it on. He tosses a round bath bomb into the tub from a little jar on the side. Hot water streams into the tub from jets. I watch like a little girl as bubbles rise to the surface and the sweet scent of lilacs fills the air.
“I’ll smell like a goddamn lass,” Lachlan mutters. “Didn’t know the soap was scented.”
“What did you think it was?” I ask, giggling.
“Something to make it look pretty?”
I laugh out loud. It’s the lightest I’ve felt in ages.
When the tub’s suitably filled, he helps me remove my clothes, taking care not to hurt me. He holds my hand as I walk up the little steps to get into the tub, and when I’m good and well secured, he removes his own clothing and follows behind me. I submerge in the steaming hot depths, surrounded by billows of bubbles, and sigh deeply.
“God, that feels good,” I whisper on a yawn. “I could fall asleep in here.”
“Just rescued you,” he mutters. “Don’t need to bloody well do it again in the same night, lass.”
I laugh, then sigh. “Thanks, Lachlan.”
He tucks me up against him. “I love you.”
“And I love you. I’m sorry I can be difficult sometimes.”
He shrugs. “Nolan’s given me advice on how to handle you when you’re difficult. And to be fair, I’m not always a walk in the park.”
I snort-laugh at that, though I have to admit I’m not sure I want to find out what Nolan’s advice was. The McCarthy men are heavy-handed but love fiercely.
He shampoos my hair, then tips my head back and gently rinses it. He massages soap into my shoulders and back, gently washing me clean, then I do the same for him. When I stroke the washcloth across his chest, he doesn’t stop me. His eyes go half lidded, but his gaze is fixed on me.
“Who do you think did it?” I ask.
“Likely rival mafia,” he says with a sigh. “Usually what it is.”
“Aye.” I know he’s right.
“Do you think they had anything to do with what happened in Boston?”
“Aye.”
He doesn’t offer any more, and I don’t ask any more.
We’re too tired to do more than clean each other off, after we’ve rinsed and dried and changed into clean lounge clothes.
“Your things will be here tomorrow, and you’ll have your new phone,” he says. “But for tonight… maybe we unplug.”
I smile at him. “Oh, aye, I like that idea.”
We lie in the large bed and watch mindless TV. We order food from the kitchen and eat shepherd’s pie and greens fresh from the McCarthy greenhouse. We follow it with large portions of spiced apple cake with whipped cream.
“Jesus, but it feels good to be home, doesn’t it?”
He entwines my fingers with his and nods his head. “Aye, lass.” He kisses my fingers. “It’s bloody good to be home.”
I wake in the night and reach for him. He opens one eye and drags me to his chest. He kisses the top of my head and we fall asleep like that, with me curled up beside him and our fingers still locked.
The next day when I wake, he’s gone. I sit up and look around the room, but find him a few minutes later out in the living room. I see him pacing back and forth across the floor, talking animatedly on the phone. He’s cursing in Gaelic, his hand waving back and forth.
I want to ask him if everything’s alright, but I’ll wait for him to tell me. I look to the bedside table, where he’s placed a glass of water for me. With a small smile, I sip it. Beside it lays a brand new phone. I lift it and turn it on, to find that it’s been synced to my old account. I have seven unread messages.
Aisling: GIRL what happened? Are you alright? You can’t keep me in the dark anymore!!!!!
I sigh. She’s right, of course. I can’t.
Megan: So good to have you home. Will you be joining us for breakfast? I glance at the clock. 11:22. Ah, that would be a no. Seems Megan figured that out, for the next message reads, Guess not. Lunch, then?
I message her back. Hi! Maybe for lunch. I’ll have to see what Lachlan’s