Chapter 22 I Want Your Complete Submission
I WANT YOUR COMPLETE SUBMISSION
I dismount from the horse and thank her with a stroke along her neck before passing her reigns to Boyd.
Two weeks ago, he introduced me to the sweet mare named Kelpie. After that first ride across the low rolling hills to the sea cliffs, I’ve been addicted, coming every time I ride.
Rory joined me that first time. He apologized profusely for allowing me to drink so much scotch.
“You didn’t allow me to do anything. I chose to drink it all,” I told him.
Truth is, in the back of my mind, I knew I’d regret it. But I didn’t want to look wimpy in front of the distillery workers, as dumb as that sounds.
Boyd rode with me every time after—until yesterday when I boldly told him I didn’t need a chaperone.
The burly, middle-aged man with copper hair and a matching beard looked perplexed for long moments.
I thought he’d insist on coming, but after I graciously explained that I know the land and the horse, and was perfectly safe on the Duhnill acres, he gave me a satellite phone and told me to call if I need him.
I rode for hours, exploring a wooded area and a pond that Boyd had shown me a few days earlier.
I’ve since visited the gardens at the front of the castle, hidden behind the trees lining the driveway.
When I first arrived here, I noticed stairs built into the small grassy hills on either side of the private drive.
I didn’t know where they led. Turns out, it’s the gardens.
There are two—a formal one with twenty or so topiary trees, and an informal one where flowers grow wildly. That one is my favorite.
As for Lachlan, I see him at dinner where I sit beside Rory, per the setting arrangement, instead of at the head of the table with my husband.
Lachlan behaves much the same way he did with my father when he dined with us, only his attention and conversation is focused on Wes.
Tessa joined us twice, which made for a very awkward encounter—for me, anyway.
She’s either unaffected or a damn good actress.
Lachlan talks to her about business in a professional manner.
The intimate way they spoke at the distillery hasn’t happened again.
Not in my presence. Whether it does behind closed doors, I couldn’t say.
He isn’t pursuing me sexually, which makes me wonder if he is getting his fill from Tessa.
Today, I’m going to ask him to let me return home so I can move on with my life. I can’t do that here where I can't establish a place for my bookstore or ignore Lachlan’s magnetic presence, as hard as I try.
I leave the stables for the Range Rover waiting to take me back to the castle and greet Ian, who drives me every day I come.
“How was your ride?” He opens the back door for me.
“Wonderful, thank you.” I climb onto the black leather seat.
“The weather is beautiful for it.”
“It is.”
The last two days have been sunny with no rain.
The castle grounds and coastline transform under the warm rays and take on a magical vibe.
Living here reminds me of Hogwarts. That castle was on a loch, not the sea and was stone versus white, but the northern highlands is where the school for witches and wizards was located.
The scenery and weather carry the same vibes. I’d be lying if I said I won’t miss it.
I’ve even grown accustomed to the hilly roads that make the ride similar to being in a horse drawn wagon.
“Is Lachlan at the castle?” I ask when we get close to the tree lined entrance.
“He is.”
“Perfect.”
If he finds my inquiry and response unusual, he doesn’t show it. None of the staff show that they’re aware of how Lachlan and I do not act like a normal husband and wife.
“Same time tomorrow?” Ian asks as I climb out from the back seat.
“I’ll text you.”
He nods, again not showing any concern that my answer has changed from the usual yes, please.
Stella greets me with a berry smoothie and a smile. She’s become my personal attendant in a way. “Everything is ready for you.”
Meaning my bathroom is ready for me to hop into the shower and more clothes options are waiting for me in the dressing room.
“Thank you.” I give her a big smile. “You’re the best.”
Everyone here is—except for Lachlan. The way he’s turned a cold shoulder to me like he had in the beginning of our relationship shows he wasn’t genuine or as hungry for me as he’d let me believe.
The man is like a faucet that has no warm water, only hot or cold. It hurts, as much as I don’t want to admit it. He fooled me into thinking I was special to him. What’s worse is that I wanted to be. I can admit that now too.
Showered, I dress in a high-waisted plaid mini skirt and a cropped cream cardigan with a matching sleeveless undershirt. I leave the sweater open and finish off the outfit with low beige booties. My legs are on display in a way I miss. I never shied away from showing them off like I did my chest.
My hair is still in the long French braid I wear when riding. Ready, I text Lachlan.
Emery: Can we talk?
He responds at once.
Lachlan: Come to my study.
I haven’t been in that room since he ate me out on his desk.
The door is open when I get there. I knock to announce myself and walk in hesitantly.
He’s on the phone, standing by one of the tall windows, which has a view of the ocean like I’d suspected. He waves me over with a quick glance that doesn’t quite reach me.
I continue to the chairs in front of his desk and perch on the edge of one. His conversation goes on for so long I recline and cross one leg over the other. He hasn’t once looked at me. I consider leaving.
I’m about to when he ends the call and turns his attention on me. His aqua eyes go directly to my legs, following them up to the hem of my short skirt, which exposes most of my thigh.
He runs his hand down the light scruff on his jaw and licks his lips.
My traitorous cooch twitches. I shift to sit up.
“Don’t move.” Lachlan orders and strolls to me in a predatory way.
I stand and swallow, mad that I like how he’s looking at me and ordering me around.
Why does there have to be this chemistry between us?
He feels it too. I didn’t get a single charge between him and Tessa when they interacted.
She seemed more desperate than suffering from uncontrollable desire, which is how I feel whenever I’m around him.
Like I’m fighting a losing battle no matter how hard I try.
“I want to go home,” I blurt.
He halts a foot away from me, his lips drawing in with confusion. I’ve thrown him again.
His gaze returns to my legs, sweeping from my booties all the way up to my braid. “You should have worn something else.”
If only I was immune to him when he acts like this, treating me like I’m the only woman in the world he wants.
“Lachlan?” I sigh.
It spurs a tiny smirk to the corner of his mouth. “I can make you scream my name.”
My sex clenches. I step away from him and put the chair between us.
“I think it’s fair to say we work better apart.
You can stay here and be you, and I can go home and be me.
If that isn’t good enough for you, I’m willing to move to a house in New England of your choice.
One that is protected to your liking and preferably by the water.
I’ve come to realize I really like the ocean and think I’d miss the salty breeze and crashing waves.
” Even the squawking seagulls make me smile.
“We can meet up for appearances sake when necessary but otherwise live apart. I’m also fine with you taking a… bed partner if that would help.”
The suggestion burns coming out. I hadn’t planned to add that part. It tumbled out as a way to sweeten the deal—a sugar-coated cherry on top of the cake I’m hoping he’ll bite.
He tucks his hands into his pockets. “No.”
What? “You didn’t even consider it. You usually get quiet and think for a little while. I prefer it.”
“You know me pretty well,” he says as if impressed.
“Not really. You’re not exactly an open book.”
“What do you want to know?” He gestures to the chair in front of me. I eye him wearily and watch as he unbuttons his suit jacket and sits on the chair closest to him. “You said you wanted to talk. Let's talk.”
I did say that, didn’t I? And here I hoped he’d just agree, and I could be on my way.
I sit on the chair beside him and rest my hands on my knees.
He follows the movement and leans back, placing his elbow on the armrest, his fingers near his lips. It’s very seductive, like he wants my eyes on his mouth.
“What do you want to know?” he repeats.
I don’t know why this comes out of my mouth. “Tell me about you and Tessa.”
He inhales and exhales slowly through his nose, his composure at ease.
“There isn’t much to tell. I met her through Wes.
I hired her after I graduated from university.
When I moved to America to finish my MBA, she stayed working here.
About three years ago, we started sleeping together.
It was sex, nothing more. I made that clear from the beginning.
She said she wasn’t looking for more either. ”
He says it with zero emotion, like it was a temporary transaction. Maybe to him it was.
“Have you ever offered more to someone you slept with?”
“No.”
While I’m at risk of falling, he’s at risk of nothing. “Have you ever loved anyone?”
He lowers his hand from his mouth to the armrest. “Love is a weakness. It means death. My mum’s love for my dad got him murdered.
Ewan’s love for my mum got him killed. My mum’s love for both of them caused her to take her own life.
Loving you is the worst thing I can do for you. It’s a death sentence.”