33. Chapter 33
Chapter thirty-three
Lachlan opened the door to his penthouse and stepped aside for me to enter.
I made it three steps before stopping.
Warm amber light spilled across dark hardwood floors, soft rugs, deep leather furniture, and old wood with enough age and character to have stories of its own.
The space was enormous without feeling cold.
Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the far wall, turning the Hudson and the lights beyond it into part of the room.
Behind me, Lachlan closed the door, helped me out of my coat, then shrugged out of his own and tossed them both over a chair near the entryway.
His home was exactly what I would have imagined if someone had asked me to design a place for him.
It was masculine without being harsh and expensive without screaming about it.
Dark wood, black leather, bronze fixtures, books, a few pieces of art, and enough softness to make everything inviting.
Nothing was delicate or chosen merely to impress someone.
The entire place was unmistakably Lachlan.
“You all right, Mouse?”
I turned. Lachlan stood a few feet away, his attention fixed on me.
“I think so.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
I smiled faintly. “It’s a lot.”
Instead of asking me to explain, he held out his hand.
“Come here.”
He led me toward the windows.
I followed until something white drifted past the glass.
Then another followed, and another.
My steps slowed.
“Lachlan.”
“Aye?”
“Is that snow?”
I hurried the final few feet to the window.
Huge flakes floated past the glass, tumbling lazily through the darkness before disappearing below us. Across the river, the lights of New Jersey blurred behind a curtain of white, and snow was already beginning to gather along the terrace railing.
“Oh my God.”
Lachlan came up beside me.
“I’ve never seen it before.”
“I know.”
“It looks…”
I couldn’t find the word.
The flakes thickened, catching the lights from the city until the whole world beyond the glass shimmered.
“It’s magical.”
“Give it twelve hours. You’ll have a couple of feet of the stuff and hear every New Yorker in the city bitching about it.”
I laughed.
“Living room lights off,” Lachlan said.
A soft chime sounded, and the room went dark, leaving only the glow from the city beyond the windows.
I stepped closer to the glass, completely mesmerized.
Without the reflection from the room, the snow seemed to surround us. For one ridiculous second, I could believe we were inside one of the snow globes I’d been given when I was little.
Lachlan moved behind me and wrapped both arms around my waist.
I leaned back against him automatically.
“This isn’t New York,” I whispered.
“No?”
“You brought me to some sort of fairy-tale kingdom.”
His quiet laugh rumbled against my back.
“Ireland has castles. Manhattan mostly has overpriced real estate.”
I turned in his arms.
“Well, this feels a lot more like a castle than an apartment.”
His hands settled on my hips.
“It’s your home for as long as you want it to be. Everything here is yours to use. Food, clothes, rooms, whatever you need. You don’t need to ask permission.”
Of everything he’d just offered me, those were the words that mattered most. No one had ever said them to me about anything.
I slid my arms around his waist and rested my cheek against him.
“As long as I’m in your arms, I’ll be at home anywhere.”
Lachlan went still for a moment before one hand slid into my hair.
“Careful, Mouse.”
“Why?”
“You keep saying things like that, and I’m going to start getting ideas.”
“I suspect you already have plenty.”
“Aye.”
He tipped my face toward his and kissed me softly at first, but the moment his mouth opened over mine, the kiss turned hungry. I tightened my arms around him as his hand traveled down my back, and for several wonderful seconds, the snow, the city, and every unanswered question disappeared.
When he finally lifted his mouth, his forehead rested against mine.
“How about I show you around?”
“Are you trying to distract me from dragging you toward whichever room contains your bed?”
“No. I’m showing remarkable restraint.”
I smiled. “I’m proud of you.”
“You shouldn’t be.”
He kissed me once more, quickly, then turned the lights back on.
The tour started with the guest side of the penthouse.
There were several bedrooms, each with its own bathroom, although one had clearly been transformed before our arrival.
I stopped in the doorway.
Women’s clothing filled the open closet across the room.
I walked over and stepped inside. Shoes lined the shelves beside several handbags, while sweaters, jeans, dresses, coats, and pajamas hung from the rods or filled the built-in drawers. There was enough of everything to make it obvious Aria hadn’t been thinking in terms of a temporary wardrobe.
I picked up a soft sweater and checked the tag. It was my size. Of course it was.
A dresser beside the closet held more surprises. The first drawer was filled with bras and panties, the next with socks and sleepwear.
I crossed into the adjoining bathroom and found enough cosmetics and hair products covering the counter to supply a salon.
I turned back toward Lachlan.
“Aria did all this today?”
“Aye.”
“How?”
“No idea.”
“She hadn’t even met me yet.”
“She didn’t need to.”
“That makes absolutely no sense.”
“Welcome to Aria.”
“Your Mafia Fairy Godmother really might have actual powers.”
“Don’t tell her that. She’s already difficult enough.”
I laughed and returned the sweater.
“So this is my room?”
“For your things, yes.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Your bed is with me.”
“Oh.”
He didn’t ask whether I might prefer another room or carefully offer me the choice. He simply told me I was sleeping in his bed.
I had absolutely no objection.
“We can move whatever you want into our room tomorrow,” he added. “But you’re sleeping with me.”
Our room.
The words gave me a ridiculous little thrill. He said them as though that part had already been settled, and maybe it had.
Still, that didn’t mean I couldn’t pull his chain a little.
“What if I snore?”
“I’ll survive.”
“What if I steal the covers?”
“I’m bigger.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
His mouth curved.
“It can be.”
I followed him back through the penthouse.
A staircase near the living room led to a smaller upper level with a gym and another large terrace.
“My brother has a playroom upstairs in his place,” Lachlan said as we came back down.
I paused.
“A playroom?”
“Aye.”
“For children?”
He laughed.
“What kind of playroom?”
“You’ll have to ask Scarlett.”
Now I was absolutely going to ask Scarlett.
Lachlan led me into the kitchen.
Whatever curiosity I had about Lucian’s mysterious room vanished when we entered the kitchen. It was beautiful. Not merely expensive. Beautiful.
A massive island dominated the center. The counters looked like marble, the range had more burners than any one household could possibly need, and two wall ovens sat beside a refrigerator large enough to feed half of La Cruzona.
I opened the refrigerator and found shelves stocked with vegetables, fruit, meat, cheese, eggs, cream, butter, and juice.
The first cabinet held flour and several kinds of sugar. Another was packed with spices, while the one beside it contained baking chocolate, extracts, nuts, and dried fruit. A third held cake pans, pie dishes, mixing bowls, and all sorts of other cooking gadgets.
“Oh.”
Lachlan leaned against the island.
“That sounded serious.”
“My God.”
“Should I be jealous?”
I turned toward him.
“Do you know what you have in here?”
“Food?”
“You have three kinds of flour.”
“Aria.”
“You have vanilla beans.”
“Still Aria.”
“Good chocolate.”
“Mouse, I barely know how to operate the coffee machine.”
“You own this kitchen and you don’t cook?”
“I make toast.”
“That is not cooking.”
“It requires heat.”
“That’s your defense?”
“Aye.”
I shook my head.
“This is tragic.”
“Feel free to save me.”
“I might.”
“Cook whatever you like. Bake whatever you like. If something’s missing, order it.”
I ran my hand over the smooth counter.
Cooking had always been one of the few things at La Cruzona that belonged partly to me. Ciro approved because he considered it feminine and harmless, never understanding how much pleasure I took from transforming ordinary ingredients into something beautiful.
Here, no one cared whether it was useful or appropriate. I could make something simply because I wanted to.
I smiled and turned back to Lachlan.
He held out his hand. “One more important room.”
I knew where he was taking me before we reached it. His bedroom occupied the far end of the penthouse beyond his office, with warm wood, a huge bed covered in thick dark bedding, and another wall of windows overlooking the river.
Naturally, the bed got my attention first as I stared at the mattress.
Lachlan laughed softly behind me.
“Already planning crimes against my virtue?”
“I didn’t realize you had any.”
“Fair.”
Then he opened the bathroom door.
The bathtub stopped me.
It was enormous, and beside it was a separate glass shower large enough for several people.
“Oh, that’s dangerous.”
“The bathtub?”
“If I ever get in it, I may never leave.”
He came up behind me. “Then you should take a nice long soak and get some rest while I grab a quick shower. I’ve been gone for days, and I need to spend an hour or two in my office dealing with everything that piled up while I was missing.”
“I slept through most of the flight.”
“You also spent the last few days escaping a cartel, running down a mountain, getting shot at, and nearly being killed at an airport. I think you’ve earned an hour in a bathtub.”
“When you put it that way…”
“How about I run it for you?”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know, but I think you’ll really enjoy it. There are jets, the lights change, and the speakers connect to your phone if you want music.”
“Actually, that sounds perfect. I think I will.”
He turned on the water and tested the temperature before opening the cabinet beneath the sink. He pulled out a jar of bath salts and a bottle of oil and set both on the edge of the tub.
I picked up the bottle.