Absent in the Spring (The Shakespeare Sisters 3)

She could get used to waking up with aching limbs. The soft white sheets surrounded her, soothing her skin. The morning sun was shining in through the gauzy curtains, the light diffused as it hit the cream hotel-room carpet.

Her eyes blinking in protest at her sudden wakefulness, Lucy looked around. The other side of the bed was empty, the sheets carefully rearranged so as not to disturb her. The only evidence that Lachlan had ever been sleeping beside her was a dent in the white self-striped pillow.

And that aroma, sugary and sweet. What was it? She sniffed, her eyes drawn to the table on the other side of the room. There was a tray there, filled with fruit and pastries, plus a large flask of what could only be coffee. A jug of orange juice was beside it – simply seeing it there was enough to make her dry mouth call out.

Climbing out of the bed, she grabbed her robe, wrapping it around herself. No belt. Ah. She blushed, remembering exactly why that was.

Next to the breakfast tray was a brief note.

Good morning, sleeping beauty. Didn’t want to disturb you with my brash American voice so I’m making some calls in the business lounge. Let me know when you’re awake. Lachlan x

His handwriting was as masculine as he was. Slanted and strong. She’d seen it before, of course, but only in business. She found herself folding the notepaper carefully, and sliding it into her pocket.

Pouring a juice, she lifted the glass to her lips and tasted the sweet nectar, letting the liquid linger on her tongue. This weekend was full of firsts, and being brought breakfast in bed – or at least in her bedroom – by a man was another.

Yes, she could definitely get used to this.

But she shouldn’t.

Her flight left this afternoon, and by tonight she’d be back in Edinburgh. Back to her old apartment, to her old life. To predictability and comfort. And that’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? To be in control. Not living at the whim of some rich American guy, no matter how luxurious the surroundings.

She caught sight of herself in the window, at her messy hair and her flushed cheeks. She didn’t quite recognise the girl reflected back at her. And maybe that was a good thing, maybe she could leave that girl behind in Paris, along with any feelings she might have for Lachlan, because they’d both agreed this weekend was a one-off.

Even if the thought of it made her heart ache.

Her stomach growled, as she looked at the pastries. Croissants and pains au chocolat, along with raisin brioches. Sweet and flaky, their crumbs already covering the tray, they looked almost too good to eat. Unsure she could last much longer, she flicked her phone on, sending Lachlan a quick text, letting him know she was awake.

Within a minute he replied.

Get back into bed and don’t eat a thing. I’ll be up in ten.

Part of her bristled at his orders. A bigger part felt hot at his words. She smiled, tapping out a reply.

You’re not in charge any more, remember?

His next reply came almost as soon as she pressed send.

Please?

Grinning, she put her phone on the table, shrugging off her robe and letting it fall to the floor. Her stomach rolled again, making its need for food vocal. Reaching out, she p

icked up a crumb with the tip of her finger, lifting it to her lips and licking it with her tongue.

God, it was delicious, so buttery and sweet. Disobeying the rules had never tasted so good.

Their cab pulled up beside the pavement at Charles De Gaulle airport’s departure zone. Lucy grabbed her bag, turning to Lachlan. ‘I guess this is it.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I’d better go, before I miss my flight.’

Lachlan’s own flight didn’t leave for another four hours. She’d be back in Edinburgh before he even took off.

He reached for her bag and opened his door, climbing out and offering her a hand. She placed her palm in his and he closed his fingers around hers as she followed him onto the pavement.

The driver walked around the back of the cab and opened the trunk, pulling Lachlan’s cases out and laying them upright on the concrete. She tried not to smile at the fact he had so many more cases than she did.

‘I’ll wait with you,’ Lachlan said. ‘I don’t need to check in for a couple of hours.’

‘No, it’s fine.’ She shook her head, painting a smile on her lips. ‘I’m sure you’ve got lots to do.’ She tried to swallow down the taste of regret on her tongue.

He carried on as if she hadn’t said anything. ‘It’s the least I can do.’