Still aroused, Thane scrambled for a large cushion on the sofa, snapped up the bag of peas, and sat down, covering his lap with the former and his knuckles with the latter.
Just in time.
His brother strode into the living room. “Robyn said the kids were at a Halloween party, so I thought I’d stop by, see if you fancied grabbing some food.” He frowned, his eyes going to the stove. “Looks like you’re already sorted for dinner, though.”
“Aye. Regan left it for me. Isn’t there a Halloween bash at the estate tonight?”
Lachlan shook his head as he wandered over to the stove. “We agreed to skip it this year after, well, Fergus and Lucy.”
Thane understood. One of Lachlan’s security guards had been murdered on the estate only a few months ago. The creepy Halloween party they usually put on at the castle would seem in poor taste this year.
“Chicken curry,” Lachlan announced, stirring the pot. “Enough for two.”
Thane laughed, trying to sound normal. “Grab us both a plate.” He held up his bruised knuckles and peas. “Had a bit of an incident.”
His brother frowned. “I’ll plate up, you explain. Want another beer?”
“Can’t. Picking up the kids from the party in a wee while.”
“Can’t Regan do that?”
Scowling, he snapped, “No, Regan can’t do it. She’s not my beck-and-call girl.”
Raising an eyebrow, Lachlan set out two plates. “I never said she was. You’re in a fucking mood.”
With a sigh, Thane slumped into the sofa. “It’s been a day.”
“Tell me.”
It took the length of the story about Paul for reality to cool his libido. He did not, however, mention his interlude with Regan. What the hell had he been thinking? He’d almost kissed her. Though burying his arousal in her stomach seemed worse than a kiss, anyway.
“I can’t remember the last time you lost the plot like that,” Lachlan observed as Thane sat down at the island with him to eat. His brother ate a forkful of chicken curry and rice. “Regan cook this?”
Thane nodded.
“She’s not bad at all.”
“I know. She’s been a godsend.”
And I’m the vile bastard who nearly took advantage of her.
“Is that why you cracked Paul in the face? Or is the village gossip getting to you?”
“How bad is the gossip? I wasn’t even aware of it until tonight.”
Lachlan shrugged. “People daren’t say to my face, but you know I have my ways. They’re all twittering about you being shacked up here with an attractive younger woman.” Seeing Thane’s horrified expression, Lachlan frowned. “It’s just gossip, and you haven’t let the village gossip bother you for years.”
“They’re nosy, bored, pains in my arse.”
“Aye, well. Even so … you haven’t been quick with your fists since you were a boy.”
It was true. When he was younger, Thane was always in some kind of fight. He was quick to anger whenever someone said shit regarding the people he cared about. A lot of the anger was from loss, but he’d mellowed with age.
“I would have punched that git, Guy, if you’d given me the chance. But you beat me to it.” He referred to Arro’s ex-boyfriend, Lachlan’s former chef at the estate. Lachlan discovered he’d beat up Arrochar and had not only fired him but had taken a nasty swing at him too. Thane found out after the fact, once Lachlan’s security escorted Guy out of Ardnoch.
“Still. Sounds like you’re protective of Regan.”
Concerned Lachlan could tell she’d gotten under his skin, he shrugged. “Don’t you want me to be? She’s family. I’m just defending her as I would Arro or Robyn.”
“It’s appreciated.” Lachlan gave him a serious nod. “I’m glad it didn’t cause too much trouble for you.”
Too much trouble?
That was an understatement.
Regan was trouble.
But only because he wanted her.
Like really, really was seriously lusting after her.
His nanny.
His brother’s soon-to-be sister-in-law.
His employee, thirteen years his junior.
Never again, he vowed.
Thane was not that hotheaded youth anymore. He was a grown man with children and responsibilities and a respectable reputation within their community. He could control his attraction to an inappropriate woman.
Never again.
Thane could only hope Regan understood that. At any rate, he planned to make sure she did.
13
Regan
I was twenty-five years old.
You would think by now, especially after what I’d been through, that I wouldn’t be naive enough to assume that just because a woman got a man’s dick hard that it actually meant anything.
And boy, was Thane out to prove it didn’t.
My hurt was a deep, hot, wounded ache in my chest that I hadn’t expected. I had a crush on the guy, but after his treatment that morning, I worried my response meant it had developed into something more.
When he’d held me in his arms yesterday, I thought I was going to come out of my skin I was so desperate to have his mouth on me, his hands touching every inch of my body. Never had I been that turned on. And I’d read some smokin’, spectacular sex scenes in romance novels.