Lachlan studied her face, hot blood causing a haze in his mind that he was trying very hard to beat back. “He hit you.”
She pressed a tentative finger to her cheek. “Blindsided me. Hit me so hard, it took me down, and then he climbed on me to hit me a couple more times. He only got the other two hits in because the first had shocked me, dazed me. But I got my faculties together, spotted the paperweight on the table, and managed to shove him off me long enough to grab it. When he came at me, I cracked him over the head with it.
“The drink, the hit, it knocked him out but only for seconds. When he came to, it was like he was a different person. Like he couldn’t believe what he’d done. He tried to plead with me, told me he loved me”—she guffawed angrily—“but I told him to get out or I would call the police.”
“You should have called the police,” Lachlan said, trying not to raise his voice.
“I was ashamed.” Her face crumpled and she sobbed, cries that tore through his gut.
Getting out of his chair, Lachlan pulled his sister up and held her while she cried, reassuring her she had nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to worry about, that he’d take care of everything.
When he finally felt her cries slow and her body relax, he eased her into her chair and set about making her a cup of the chamomile tea she liked.
“Sorry.” She smiled wearily at him. “For crying like that. I just … I feel stupid. That I didn’t see he had that in him. I should have.”
“Don’t do that to yourself. People have a way of hiding their true selves.”
“Still. I’m sorry.”
“You never have to say sorry.” He brought the hot mug over to her. As she took it in both hands, he said, “You do have to report this to the police, though.”
“Oh, Lachlan, no.” Her denial was instant. “Every time we go to the police with something, we open up the chance of the press finding out. That’s the last thing the club needs right now.”
“Fuck the club,” he bit out. “What if he does this to someone else?”
“Don’t put that on me.” Her lips quivered. “Don’t make me feel bad for not wanting anyone to know about this.”
“Well, I can’t let him get away with it.”
“Lachlan—”
He held up a hand to cut her off. If he couldn’t have the bastard arrested, he’d dole out his own form of justice. “I’m firing him and making it clear he needs to leave the Highlands. Preferably on a plane back to Australia.”
Arrochar nodded. “That works for me.”
Her bruising was starting to yellow, meaning it was healing. Lachlan reached out to caress her cheekbone. “I’ll let everyone know you have a flu bug and that I’m taking care of you. Everyone except Thane.”
“Och, Lachlan—”
“I’m not keeping this from him.”
Her brows furrowed with fierceness. “You’re a pain in my arse. And if you even think about telling Mac—”
“I won’t,” he interrupted her again. “Mac would lose his goddamn mind and try to kill Guy, and while that might be fun to watch, Mac’s not completely over his injuries.”
Relaxing, she sank into her chair. “What are you going to do about a chef?”
He shrugged. “That’s not anything you need to worry about. For now, I just want you to take it easy. I need to see to Guy, and then I’ll be back tonight with a takeaway. What do you fancy?”
“You don’t have to.”
“It’s not for you, it’s for me.” And he wasn’t lying. He needed to be with her. Make sure she definitely was all right.
Arro gave him a soft, loving look. “Thank you for keeping your cool for me. It means a lot. And for firing him.”
“I’d do anything for you, sweetheart.”
Her eyes brightened with fresh tears, and she slapped playfully at his arm. “Go, before you have me blubbering again.”
He nodded but didn’t make a move. Instead, he suggested, “Perhaps you might find time to ask Robyn for some self-defense tips.”
Arro raised an eyebrow.
Lachlan smirked. “I’ve seen her in action. She’s impressive.”
His sister considered him a moment. “You admire her, don’t you?”
Admired Robyn? She irritated him, excited him, pissed him off, and turned him on … but admiration? It never occurred to him before but yes, he did. He admired her bravery in coming to Scotland, he admired her independence and self-sufficiency. And he admired her physical and emotional strength. He admired a woman who laid beneath him and dared him with her eyes to find the scars on her chest anything but something she should be proud of.
And goddamn was he itching to know the story behind them.
“Yes, I do.” He reached over and squeezed his sister’s wrist. “She’s trained in mixed martial arts.”