The smile she got back in return was blinding.
He wrapped her in his arms, her back to his front, his biceps strong against her sides. His legs pressed against hers, so that he was mirroring her position, the dessertspoon to her teaspoon. She could feel her chest tighten as the sensation of him holding her, his body almost like a shield to ward away evil.
She wasn’t used to feeling protected. Wasn’t used to being taken care of. But the sensation made her feel warm inside, as though he’d lit a fire inside her that wasn’t ever going out.
She was falling in love with Lachlan MacLeish. She had seen through the persona he showed the world, broken down the skin he used to protect himself, and had glimpsed the man beneath.
Maybe Jenn was wrong. Maybe this time it was different. Because Lucy was in love with him and she had no idea what to do with that thought.
‘Damn, we’re out of coffee.’ Lachlan slammed the cupboard door closed, the crockery inside rattling in protest at his vehemence. ‘This is what happens when I give the housekeeper a week off. My life goes to hell.’
Lucy crossed her bare legs as she sat on his kitchen stool, leaning on the countertop. She was wearing only his white shirt and a pair of panties she’d found at the top of her case. ‘Why did you give her the week off?’
He turned to look at her, his face heated. ‘Because when I’m having sex with you against the back of the sofa, I prefer not to be interrupted.’
She stifled a laugh. ‘I guess we’ll have to go without coffee then.’
Lachlan shook his head. ‘That’s not an option. Without coffee I can’t concentrate. And we have a lot to do today.’
She frowned, swinging her leg back and forth. ‘I thought we were just going dress shopping?’ Not her choice – but she had nothing suitable for the kind of event Saturday would turn out to be.
‘We are,’ he said, pulling his shoes on and grabbing his jacket. ‘But we’ll both need some sustenance. I have very specific tastes when it comes to clothing.’
‘Me too,’ she said, tipping her head to the side. ‘This could be interesting.’
‘Everything about you is interesting.’ He pressed his lips to hers. ‘Now get back to bed and I’ll bring your coffee in there. We’ve got four hours until our appointment at Bergdorf’s.’
‘And we’ve got work to do, too.’ She couldn’t help but feel guilty at all those emails piling up in her inbox. Even though she was supposed to be on holiday, she still needed to keep things in check. Her career depended on it.
‘It can wait.’ He slid his keys from the counter, stuffing them in his jeans pocket. He looked every inch the rich, casual boyfriend. Hair still wet from the shower, jeans and shirt expensively tailored. He’d shaved the night before, but the smoothness of his jaw had been roughened by a shadow of beard growth. Sometimes she had to pinch herself to realise she wasn’t watching some cologne advert whenever he was around.
But like an advertisement, their time together was all too brief. It was already Wednesday – and it felt as though she’d barely been here any time at all. It would be the weekend within a blink of an eye, and before she knew it she’d be flying back to Edinburgh. Like in The Wizard of Oz, she’d click her red heels to leave the beautiful colourful land to return to a black-and-white life.
Stop it, she told herself. It wasn’t a dull existence. She’d worked hard to get everything she had – a beautiful apartment, a fabulous job, a family she loved more than life itself. And she’d still have Lachlan, just from afar for a while.
She swung down from her perch on the stool, her bare feet padding against the warm, polished wooden floor. She was almost at the bedroom when she heard the sharp trill of a phone.
Lachlan’s phone.
Turning, she saw it lighting up on the counter, the case vibrating against the marble with every ring. He must have forgotten to take with him. Curiosity pulled her closer, until she could read the name printed in black against the lit-up screen.
Grant.
Without thinking it through, she swiped to answer it, lifting the handset to her ear. ‘Lachlan MacLeish’s phone.’
‘Er…’ Grant seemed momentarily nonplussed by her answering. ‘Lucy, is that you?’
‘Hi, Grant. Lachlan went out for a minute. He forgot to take his phone. Can I take a message?’
Grant let out a loud sigh. ‘Damn. Do you know when he’ll be back?’
Alarmed at his tone, Lucy found herself standing up straighter. ‘He won’t be long. Is there a problem?’
‘He’s supposed to be in a meeting. These guys have flown over from Germany especially. I sent him an email last night reminding him.’ Grant’s anger was palpable. She felt goosebumps rise up on her skin.
‘I don’t think he read them.’
‘But he always reads his emails.’ His voice rose up an octave.