Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Lachlan
Stretching in the tangled sheets, still caught between sleep and waking, I give my stomach a languid scratch, and then look over to where Del—
The other side of the bed is empty, a slight indent in the pillow and the subtle scent of her lingering perfume the only sign she was ever there.
Maybe she’s in the loo?
Rolling onto my side, I press my face to her pillow and draw in a slow breath. I’m going to tell her how I feel. Sure, she’ll probably laugh and tell me I’m delusional, but I’ll change her mind.
My cock twitches, already at attention. Hell yeah, changing her mind sounds perfect.
Someone knocks on the suite’s door.
I squint at the morning sun blasting through the window. No doubt it’s the Staffords, ready for our business breakfast.
Shucking myself out of bed, I scan the floor for the clothes I discarded last night.
No sign of my shirt. With a grunt, I snatch up my crumpled chinos.
Not the greatest impression, but I don’t give a toss.
I’m going to tell the old couple Del and I won’t be joining them for breakfast, and I’ll sign the contract later.
All that matters to me is Del. Being with her. Making love to her. Telling her I want to spend the rest of my life with her. Starting today.
“Mr. McKenzie?” Angus’s raised voice comes through the door, followed by more knocking. Insistent, impatient knocking.
“Coming,” I call. Hurrying from the room, I toss a look toward the bathroom. Huh. It’s open. And empty. Del’s not in there.
I quicken my stride to the suite’s door. Maybe she’s making a coffee in the kitchen?
Her absence in the room is like a vise of fire ants pressing down on me. Where is she?
Clawing my hands through my hair, I fix a smile on my face and open the door. “Good morning.”
Angus harrumphs. “Is it, Mr. McKenzie?” He jabs the ground with his cane. “Your fiancée was less than polite a few moments ago. Brushing us off without a thought when we arrived. Perhaps our beautiful resort isn’t special enough for her? Perhaps we’ve been too hasty in accepting your offer?”
The knot in my gut turns to a jagged glacier. “I’m sorry? What—”
Beryl sniffs. “Such an unusual pair you are. An upstanding man such as yourself, with all your years of military service, and…her. Barely in her twenties and dressed so lewdly last night.”
Anger floods my veins. I clench my jaw. “Del looked gorgeous last night. And how my fiancée dresses has no bearing on our business dealings.”
Beryl purses her lips. “I would have thought she’d be more respectful, Mr. McKenzie, given the importance of your time here. She could do with better manners.”
Angus snorts. “She could do with losing a few pounds, is what she could—”
“Enough.” The single word leaves me like cracking ice. “I don’t care who you are, you don’t get to speak about Del, or any woman, like that.”
Angus and Beryl recoil, Beryl clutching her husband’s arm.
“Now now, sonny,” Angus blusters. “Remember, the exchange contract isn’t signed yet.”
My gut clenches. An image of Cloudkiss Resort—how I see it, the wellness retreat I dream of creating—dissolves in my mind like ashes.
And yet…
An image of Del, the woman who owns my heart, fills my head.
Perhaps Cloudkiss isn’t the only dream I have anymore? Perhaps what I thought was my dream future has changed?
Drawing a deep breath, I take in the older couple in front of me, the icy rock in my gut losing its edges. “Maybe,” I say, “this purchase isn’t what I thought it would—”
“Of course,” Beryl interrupts, flapping a hand at me, “we could put this all behind us, Lachlan, if only your fiancée were here. But she seemed far more interested in her phone and the text she received than talking to us, didn’t she, dear?
” She casts another one of those arched looks at her husband, lips pursed like she’s reveling in a sordid secret. “What with the way she scurried away.”
I stiffen. “Text?”
Angus clears his throat. “She seemed distracted after reading it, that’s for sure. Some would say nervous.”
I barge past the Staffords, ignoring their indignant gasps, and scan the horizon. There’s no sign of Del.
Fuck.
Who was the text from? Her stalker? Had they spooked her? Scared her? Whoever they are, they’re trouble.
And when I get my hands on them, they’re in trouble. A whole fucking world of it.