Chapter 11 #2
“If your captain knew what you did, he’d cut your hands off at the fucking wrists,” I say, giving him another shake. I have no bloody idea if that’s what he’d do, but it’s what I’d do, and I’m not his goddamn boss.
I jerk my head at Bryn. “Call your father. Get him on the phone. Tell him what he did.”
“Who are you?” he growls, glaring at me.
I yank him up to me so we’re eye to eye. “I’m her fucking boyfriend. Anything else you want to say to me?”
His eyes widen when he takes in the tattoo on my neck. He probably knows exactly who I am. I almost feel guilty, afraid that he'll run and report me to her father, that she’ll get into trouble. But we're in too deep now, and I know exactly what my plans are.
“Go,” I tell him, throwing him physically toward the door. “Get the fuck out of here.”
She takes her phone and dials a number, her hand shaking but her voice clear.
“Put me on the phone with my father.”
She gives me an apologetic look and covers the mouthpiece. “I’m sorry, Mac, I’ll have to make this call privately, and I don’t want him knowing anyone else is listening.” She jerks her head at Michail. “Will you keep an eye on him, please?”
I narrow my eyes at him as he walks to the exit, limping, wiping at his lips. Can’t believe her father would put a douche like him in charge of her care anyway. He looks over his shoulder, shooting daggers at me. I take a step toward him, and he runs out the door.
She needs real protection. Real fucking protection.
I hear the rise and fall of voices while she speaks on the phone with her father.
I wonder what they're talking about. I hate the idea of him finding out she's with me, and her getting into any kind of trouble at all.
What would her father think if he knew that she was with a Cowen?
Does he care about those things? Will it even occur to him that his daughter would be in danger?
Why does it trouble me to think of her being in danger with anyone… but me?
The door behind me closes, and I turn around to look at her. She looks so fucking gorgeous, her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes alight. She looks away when I meet her eyes.
“Everything alright, Bryn?”
“Aye,” she says with a sigh. “I reported him to my father, and my father asked who I was with.” She meets my eyes. “I told him the truth.”
I nod. It’s part of my fucking plan. This is exactly how it works. If he knows she’s with me, he should worry about what I’ll do to her. He’ll know that I might be coming for revenge. He fucking ought to know that, anyway.
“And?”
She smiles. “He says it’s time we put the past behind us. He said that he won’t allow anyone to be on my protection team who isn’t fully vetted, going forward.” She shrugs. “Looks like we’re in the clear.”
It seems too easy, though. Way too fucking easy.
“And your mum? Do you need to go home?”
She sighs. “No, he says she’s been taken to an assisted living facility. It seems she tried to hurt herself, and he wanted to be sure she doesn’t try that again.”
“Jesus, baby. I’m sorry.” I hate how her lower lip trembles. I hate how her lips turn down in a frown.
I lean in and kiss her lips, brushing her hair off her forehead. “It’ll be okay,” I whisper in her ear. “We’ll figure this out.”
She takes in a shuddering breath and nods. “Thank you.”
I kiss her temple, then the bridge of her nose. Then I pull her to my chest and hold her.
“What is it you wanted to tell me?”
She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter now. It’s no big deal.”
“You sure?”
She pauses before answering, then says quietly, “Aye, Mac. I’m sure.”
“Good. Then pack your things and come home with me,” I tell her.
“You’ll get your work done, and I’ll get mine done.
We’ll eat dinner with everyone, and then later…
” I run my fingertips down her back. Up and down, gently, and she shivers against me.
“Tonight, we’ll spend some more time together, aye? ”
She nods. “Aye. Let’s do it. I need to get this dress done, and it’ll be nice knowing there’s something waiting for me at the end of the day.”
Still, she looks as if she’s hiding something.
I wonder if her father threatened her. After watching me beat up her bodyguard?
She might be afraid to tell me anything else.
Maybe she knows that her father doesn't want me to be with her, and she hasn't told him the full truth.
Or maybe she has told him the full truth, and she is worried about what I'll do.
Everything’s going exactly to plan.
Then why do I hate how this makes me feel?
My phone rings, and I pick it up quickly. Leith.
“Yeah?”
“Mac. Are you within earshot of her?"
"No." I look briefly up at Bryn, but she can't hear my conversation.
“The wedding could be the exact opportunity that you need. Could be an easy in, you see.”
“Aye. Been thinking the very same myself.”
“Not to mention the fact that I'd feel a lot more at ease knowing you were at the wedding with the girls."
I chuckle. “That, too. Listen, Leith, we’ll be back up for dinner tonight, alright?”
“Aye, of course. See you then.”
I feel guilty when I hang up the phone. I've been battling this feeling from the moment I met her, but every moment that I spend with her magnifies it.
I hate it. I hate knowing that I either have the choice of hurting her, or of letting down my family.
I wish there was some happy medium, but there isn't.
I don't say anything to her at first, as we gather up the things she needs to take home. A sewing machine, and a small box filled with lots of notions. She's got fabric, and the things that she's working on, and, of course, the dress itself.
"Do you typically wait this close to a deadline before you actually finish the task?"
“Ah, well, that’s hard to answer, isn’t it?” she says with a laugh. “There… haven’t really been many tasks before this?”
There's a vulnerability in her eyes I've seen before, only this time she doesn't seem to be able to mask it to me as she did before.
I look at the dress before her, neatly tidied up and zipped in an ivory travel bag.
“Sweetheart, that’s fuckin’ gorgeous. If you’ve had a lull, then it’s only because word hasn’t yet gotten out about how bloody talented you are.”
She flushes. “Thank you.”
“I’m dead serious,” I say, shaking my head.
“Alright, I’ll admit it. I don't know a bloody thing about things like this. Dresses and fabric and all that crap. But I do know enough to realize that my sisters are bloody blown away by the bridesmaids’ dresses, and I've heard tell they said there was never a more beautiful dress than the one that you've designed for Fran.”
Her eyes shine at me. “Thanks for that, Mac. Honestly. Thank you.”
I give her a suggestive look. “No need to thank me, sweetheart. Just remember me later, will you?”
She sticks her tongue out at me playfully, and I wag a finger at her teasingly. "Watch it young lady."
I love how she flushes when I boss her around, the way her eyes grow wide and I can tell she wants more. Christ, I can’t wait to get her alone tonight.
Maybe I don’t have to do what I planned. Maybe there’s another way. I hate the idea of anyone so much as putting a frown on her face. I detest the thought of me being the one that does it.
She sighs when we try to pack everything up. “I don’t know, Mac, I just don’t know how I’ll be able to move everything I need.”
“I’ll help you.”
She shakes her head. “I reckon it just might make the most sense for me to stay here today to get this work done. Everything I need is here, and it's going to take so much time just to move everything…”
“I can make that work. For now. We’ll bring stuff home tonight, but I can work alongside you as you do for a bit.”
She grins. “I love that you’d do that for me.”
I will. I’ll do bloody anything for her.
So we pull everything out, and get to work right there in the shop. I prowl around the entryway door, making sure it's locked, and look for any sign of her old bodyguard returning. He's got the decency not to show, though.
I complete the emails, and all the work that I need to do with my jobs in Paris.
We're traveling there next week, so I know I need to get things going.
I finish my correspondence, set up a trade, and make sure that I have contacts ready to meet me when I land.
My sisters want to go, but if things go off the way they should, there won't be time for them to come with us, and certainly no time for them to do anything.
I love working alongside Bryn. She hums prettily while doing her work, and every once in a while she'll reach out and rub my neck, run her hand down my back, or squeeze my hand. She likes the physical connection, I know. So do I.
Around lunchtime, she stands and stretches. I shut off my phone and beckon her over to me.
“C’mere,” I say, needing more than a little back rub.
“What?” she asks warily.
“Bryn…”
She bites her lip and walks closer. When she’s right in front of me, I take her by the hand, and tuck her onto my lap. I nuzzle my face in her hair, breathing her in. She smells so fucking good. Her arms come around my neck, and I silently hold her. I want to fuck her again. I want so much more.
“Do we have time for a lunch break?” I ask, thinking how close we are to the flat I rented.
“Not much,” she says wistfully. “I was thinking I’d grab a granola bar…”
I run my fingers along her legs, massaging her thigh, her calf, then back up again to her thighs.
“I can’t eat a fucking granola bar and call that a meal.”
She giggles. “Then don’t call it that.”
“You know what I mean.”
She nods. “We can order a proper lunch.”
“Let’s do that, then.”
Half an hour later, we’re back to work, only now we’re happily munching curry over white rice while we do it. I actually let her talk me into a vegetarian one, and it isn’t half bad. I pull out all the green vegetables, and she pricks them with her fork and eats them.
“Seriously? Those were on my fork.”
She swallows and pierces another veggie bit. “Mac, I’ve had your cock in my mouth. I really don’t mind.”