Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Lachlan
Ten minutes away from Del.
That’s all it took.
Ten minutes of pacing my suite, pretending I was agitated and nervous about the impending contract exchange, before I accepted the purchase of Cloudkiss had nothing to do with my mental, emotional and—fuck it—physical state.
Del was the reason.
I couldn’t get her out of my head.
After ten minutes of not being in her company, I felt like a part of me had gone AWOL.
I missed her. I missed looking at her, I missed not being the recipient of her snark, her bite, her smile…
I’d taken a long, ice-cold shower, dealt with the hard situation between my legs with a pumping grip that was borderline brutal, and then thrown on a fresh set of clothes.
I’d always planned to stay the night. Just hadn’t planned to spend it aching for a young woman who may or may not bolt the next time she saw me.
Thirty minutes later, dressed and still on edge, I’d tried not to let my gaze linger on the massive four-poster bed and deep claw-footed tub big enough for two as I exited my suite.
Beryl hadn’t lied. It was cozy luxury. It was all too easy to see Del in it with me, stretched out on the bed, hair a wild mess of honey-blond waves around her head, or in the bath, bubbles kissing her naked body the way I want to.
That image—Del wet and glistening, teasing me with her gorgeous eyes and bare shoulders—refused to leave me as I stomped around Cloudkiss’s restaurant and gardens looking for her.
And then I saw her.
She was sitting at a table looking like the sexiest fucking punk-rock fairy, with dark sooty eyeshadow, black wings, ripped fishnet stockings, and a black corset struggling to contain her spectacular boobs…
Fuck. Me.
It took every ounce of control I had not to stride over, throw her over my shoulder, carry her to my suite—our suite—and claim her.
Make her mine.
Forever.
Sitting opposite me now, she fiddles with the straw of her drink, her ice-blue eyes locked on mine. “So you didn’t know the owners would only sell to a married couple?”
A wry snort scratches the back of my throat. “I did not.”
She holds my gaze. I hold hers back. My heart is a cannon in my ears.
A gentle throat-clearing makes me jump.
Stevie, sitting in the seat next to me, grins. “So I’m going to go now, just in case either of you were wondering.”
Del opens her mouth.
“No, no.” Stevie laughs, rising to her feet. “Whatever this is?” She slides her pointed finger back and forth between me and Del, smiling. “I approve. Continue.”
“Stevie,” Del groans as her cousin walks away.
“I like her,” I say, settling my gaze back on Del. “She knows how to read a room.”
“She knows how to abandon me, that’s what she knows.” She studies me, eyes narrowing. “I had you pegged for a firefighter or bodyguard or something, not a hotelier. I mean, look at you. You’re a scary-looking giant. Even with the glasses.”
The curl of her lips softens her description. I chuckle. “I get that often. Used to be a Special Forces commando. A commando nerd, in fact.”
“A commando nerd?” She frowns and smiles at the same time, an expression I didn’t think possible, but there it is, making her look even more adorable.
Hell, I’m in trouble. I think I’m falling in love with her.
“Means I’m tough enough to break a wall with a headbutt,” I say. “But I’m smart enough to know not to do so.”
She laughs, and yeah, I’m in love with her. “You should put that on your business card.”
I relax back in my chair, threading my hands behind my head. “I’m planning on trademarking it in the morning.”
She grins. “So, Lochie McKenzie—hotelier and commando nerd. Come for the views and beds, stay for the…maths? Star Trek discussion?” She gives me another one of those frown-smile combos, and my cock twitches. “What kind of nerd are you?”
“The cyber security kind,” I say. “But that life is behind me now. Once the purchase of Cloudkiss finalizes, that is. Not so much hotelier, but wellness retreat manager.” A shaky breath falls from me, and I adjust my glasses on my face.
I only wear them at night and for long laptop work.
“I want to help people stressed out by life and society find calm and strength.”
She cocks an eyebrow. The natural arch has been tipped with makeup into a shimmering dark point.
In fact, her makeup is exquisite. Her natural freckles have been accentuated with shimmery dark purple, and there’s an airbrushed precision to the color on her cheekbones.
She looks rebellious and ethereal. Did she do it herself?
“But,” I continue, looping my elbow over the backrest of the chair, “if someone wants to have a conversation with me about Star Trek, or Batman, or Game of Thrones, I’m not going to say no.” I hold up my hand in the Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper, I say.”
Rolling her eyes, she laughs. Her wings jiggle. So do her boobs. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious.”
“Very.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees again. “Ask me anything...nerdish.”
Her eyes narrow. “What does American actor Lucille Ball have to do with Star Trek?”
The world seems to stop spinning. My mouth goes dry. Is she…
“Lucille Ball’s production company made the original Star Trek show way back in the 1960s,” I answer, a kernel of excited hope itching at me.
“And she herself approved the production concepts.” I lean forward more.
“That’s a deep cut, future wife. Not something a lot of non-geeks would know. Are you a nerd as well?”
“Live long and prosper,” she says on a breath.
My heart bashes against my ribs.
Her gaze drops to my mouth and back to my eyes. “The owners aren’t around,” she whispers even as she holds my stare like her life depends on it. “You don’t need to pretend we’re engaged.”
What if I don’t want it to be pretend?
“If they were?” I ask, my voice a rumbling breath. Her lips are so full, so pouty, so close. “What would you do to convince them we are en—”
Her lips crush mine, her hands fist in my hair, and her tongue demands mine.
And fucking hell, I give it to her.