Chapter 40
Appearances
BAZ
Lanie boarded the plane like it was hers.
I’d forgotten how much I adored her authoritative, independent side.
In a perfectly matched dress and heels, she was abject perfection in feminine form.
I longed to kiss her and tell her how I missed her every night for the past few weeks.
I settled for a simple hello. She sat by me, crossing her legs delicately. A flight attendant offered her a drink.
“Just a lemonade, please,” Lanie said.
The flight attendant obliged as Lanie kicked off her shoes.
I wondered if her feet swelled due to the pregnancy?
I figured if I asked, I’d be fobbed off.
She took any question about the pregnancy as a business partner might about a building nearing completion.
I wanted to feel some sort of connection about this, but she refused to grant it.
“Was your journey up pleasant?” I asked.
“Not at all,” Lanie chuckled. “According to Leah, Duncan doesn’t care about what the cabin thinks of turbulence in some sort of power play, you know?”
“Duncan?” I asked. “You’re running around with the Prince of Wales now?”
“He and Leah brought us back up. It just made more sense than us chartering something when he was on his way out.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Prince Duncan was a notorious womanizer and exactly the type I assumed Lanie went for. Now he was flying her around? It made me uneasy.
“Duncan is a friend,” Lanie said. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“I’m not worried about it. The rules state—”
Lanie squeezed my knee. “It would draw attention. And, anyway, Duncan is too much fuckboy for me. Not my type. I like my men capable of doing things without calling Mummy first.”
I snickered, relaxing because I believed her.
“How is Caleb? And what’s her name? June? And June’s friend?”
Bristling, I thought of how to respond. Part of me hoped this was the moment instead of launching into the air, we’d skid and slowly come to a stop.
Instead, our ears popped as the plane left London City in a flash.
When I’d gone out with Caleb and the models, we’d been photographed.
Nothing happened and I wanted to forget it all.
I hoped Lanie wouldn’t hear—as if The Sun didn’t sell papers there.
“Nothing happened,” I said. “Caleb again attempted, but… Lanie, that isn’t my goal. I don’t want that.”
“What? An attractive girl of what? Twenty-two.”
“What part don’t you get, Lanie. You’re younger than I usually go. She was a child. I felt she might call me ‘Papa’ at any time.”
That elicited a giggle. “Could be hot.”
If Lanie wanted to call me Daddy, I’d let her.
Lanie could call me anything. She didn’t know how much I longed to cup her face in my palm and kiss her pretty pink lips.
I loved her. I wanted to ride out every storm with her, to wake up next to her every morning, and to always say I-love-yous as we drifted to sleep.
I was a full-blown sap, but if I admitted that, I showed weakness before a woman who still thought this was a great game.
“And how is the crew?” I asked.
“Uh, they are good. The production slowed for weather a bit, but we picked it up. Owning a grand house is… complicated.”
“Correct,” I said.
“Roofs aren’t cheap.”
“They are not. So, what do these people want?”
“Just your average sort of story,” Lanie said. “How are we as a couple. What is it like being Baroness Oban? I show them around, tell them about our love affair, gush about you, and that’s all there is. Oh, and try on dozens of dresses.”
Tatler rang Lanie’s agent about doing a feature on us in Braemoor. Lanie asked, assuming I would say no. Instead—in desperation to have alone time with her—I said yes. She had to follow through. So, she flew up and came to play Baroness for a moment.
“You don’t need to do anything. Be your charming self, Basil.”
“I am charming? I didn’t know I was capable, Lady Osgoode!” My eyes met hers. I wanted to kiss her so badly.
“You can be if you try,” Lanie’s expression turned to flirtation.
I didn’t drop her gaze, but ran my hand above her knee, pressing on her hem. “How am I doing right now?”
“I…” Lanie looked for words.
I pressed on, my fingers inching up her dress. “And now?”
Lanie grabbed my face, kissing me in what felt like sweet relief. I cupped her face, soaking her up. Her lips felt so good. It’d been too long. I needed her desperately. We hadn’t had sex in more than a month. I was desperate to have her.
“We… can’t,” Lanie protested.
“Why not?” I asked.
“It gets… messy,” Lanie said.
“I like messy,” I panted.
We kissed until we felt the plane level off. She tossed her tights aside and straddled me.
As I gripped her ass, Lanie’s nostrils flared, “I think if I don’t get off, I’m gonna lose it. So, don’t tease me.”
“I would never do such a thing, my darling.” I kissed her again.
Zippers, buttons, and all else fell by the wayside as we renewed old habits. There was nothing more I wanted than to watch Lanie come unglued. She bobbed, chasing an orgasm greedily. As the heat crept up her neck and face, she threw her head back and let out a low growl.
“Oh, fuck me, Baz!” Lanie said. “Oh, shit!”
And then, she devolved into jelly as she tried to recover from the orgasm that rocked her world.
I pumped her hips with my hands, before she leaned forward and kissed me, going back up to her usual cadence.
If I wasn’t sober and fully aware of my surroundings, I would have told her I loved her. It felt so raw and genuine.
“Oh, God, that felt… so good,” Lanie panted. “Are you gonna cum?”
I fought it, but yes. A moment later, I couldn’t stop myself. We sat, tied up, breaths short and desperate, hearts pounding. I kissed her forehead lovingly, wishing to soak up as much as I could of Lanie before she left me.
LANIE
“You’re so peckish this morning,” Eleanor said sweetly. “Are you alright, Lanie?”
It was our last day in Braemoor. From here, we’d head our separate ways—Baz to London, me to Wales.
For a couple of days, we’d been the perfect aristocratic couple.
We’d been unhinged, too. I had two days with little morning sickness, allowing me to fuck Baz with abandon.
Unfortunately, this morning I woke to the reality of pregnancy in all ways—bloated, breasts protesting, and stomach at sea.
“I’m… I’m fine.”
I didn’t wish to draw attention to it. Our baby thrived—draining my batteries, putting me through hell some mornings, and humbling me with worries. Despite it coloring my world, I never shared the woes of pregnancy with Baz. He didn’t care, as far as I could tell.
“There’s no secret you need to tell me?” Eleanor asked, eyebrows raised.
Her gaze flitted from Baz’s face to mine.
His face suggested I should just say it.
“I’m… pregnant,” I said. “About nine weeks now We’re not really telling anyone. It’s… very new.”
“Oh, but I’m not just anyone,” Eleanor’s face lit up. “Congratulations!”
She teared, overcome. The reaction surprised me, warming my heart. For weeks, I wanted to tell someone I knew would care. I dreaded telling my own family. Beyond Leah, Chloe, and Harrison, no one had been all that happy about this status change.
Eleanor raced to hug me, then her brother. For a moment, as I watched them embrace, I thought I saw genuine happiness cross Baz’s face.
“Papa would have been so glad to hear that,” Ellie wiped tears. “Oh my God, Baz, you’re going to be a father.”
“I suppose that is the natural progression,” Baz said.
Ellie joked, “No wonder you all weren’t up here. You were busy on your own.”
“Well, it’s mostly been that Lanie is busy.”
“And you, too, Baz,” I said. “We’re both people with lives.”
“But you have a life together. When will you return?” Ellie asked. “I’d like to spend time with you both again. It’s been so nice. I love my big brother, but I miss his lovely wife.”
I smiled, wishing that it made sense. I wanted to be close to Ellie. I adored her sweet soul and now there was more to be learned. I wanted my child to know her. Getting more involved made me feel set up for pain and misery when it all fell apart.
“Someday,” I said. “I have another shoot in America after this one, but I’ll be back around twenty weeks. So, not too far off now.”
“We’ll welcome her back with open arms,” Baz smiled. “Promise.”