“And why is that again?”
Images of his childhood, of his father, flashed before his eyes. His mother’s gravestone. Watching Thane grieve over the gravestone of his wife.
He remained silent.
“Or not.” She gave a huff of laughter, but it sounded a little hurt.
Lachlan turned to her. “It’s just not for me, Luce.”
“I know. I get it. You know that.” She strolled toward him, her heels clicking on his hardwood floors. When she stopped before him, she didn’t have to crane her neck to meet his eyes, she was so tall in the shoes. “Why do you need the reminder?”
He gave a small huff of disbelief. “Robyn.”
His friend’s eyes widened with understanding. “Are you saying … oh my God, you’re falling for her.”
The idea made his heart pound, his skin flush, and he scowled. “No, I’m sure it’s not that drastic,” he denied. “But I do … I do have real feelings for her. Unexpected and real. I don’t know how to move forward.”
“You would usually end things.”
“When the woman started to have real feelings, yes, but this has never happened to me before.” Suddenly he realized who he was speaking to. “I mean, Luce, you know I care about you—”
She held up a hand, cutting him off with a tight smile. “I know what you mean.” She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I should have known Robyn would do this to you.”
“Why?”
“You tell me. She has something, doesn’t she?”
Yes, she did. And it was driving him mad. Lachlan wanted to be around her all the time. She never bored him. Her dry wit and no-nonsense attitude made him laugh while her sense of adventure and lack of inhibition ignited his blood. Yet it was her fearless honesty and soft compassion beneath the sexy toughness that most called to him. He’d told her things. About his family. His past.
It made the fact that she still wouldn’t confide in him about the scars on her chest that much more disappointing. Lachlan wanted to know her. Even as it excited him to keep discovering her.
“Is it just the sex?” Lucy pushed.
He shook his head. It wasn’t just the sex, although that was goddamn mind-blowing. He was addicted to the taste of the woman.
“What do you want me to tell you?”
“To walk away.”
Lucy reached out to stroke his cheek, her fingers rasping against the bristle of his short beard. “Sweetheart, even if I tell you to do that, you won’t. I can see it in your eyes. She’s under your skin.”
Fuck.
Luce was right.
He turned away to stare out the window at his estate. Only a few short months ago, all he had to worry about were his siblings and his business.
Now not even his mystery stalker overshadowed the top of his concerns.
Robyn.
His mind, his very blood, was filled with nothing but her.
It was aggravating and not a little terrifying.
“I’ll leave you to brood.” Lucy’s heels faded away. “And Lachlan … Robyn is wonderful, but she’s made it clear this isn’t her permanent stopping place. Don’t be the guy who holds her back because he doesn’t want her but he doesn’t want anyone else to have her. She deserves better than that.”
He scowled out the window. That wasn’t his intention. Ever. He wouldn’t do that.
He turned to say so, but Lucy was striding through the doorway.
“Oh! Jesus!” He heard her cry. “What are you doing skulking here?”
Hurrying toward the door, he heard Fergus of all people reply, “Sorry, Ms. Wainwright.”
Lachlan stepped through the doorway to see Lucy skirting the mechanic. She glared at him and threw an exasperated look at Lachlan before she strode away toward the main staircase.
“Fergus?” The mechanic rarely came into the main rooms of the castle. “Problem?”
“Computer issue with one of the Rovers, Mr. Adair.”
“Fergus, you can call me Lachlan when it’s just the two of us,” he reminded him. For God’s sake, he’d grown up with the man.
“Right.” Fergus grinned, but it was a preoccupied smile.
“Computer problem?” Lachlan prompted.
“Yes. It’ll need to go in, I’m afraid. Wanted to check with you first.”
The manufacturer always charged a fortune, but if Fergus couldn’t fix the issue, then there was nothing else for it. “Book it.”
“Lachlan.” Fergus tipped an invisible hat to him, a quirk he’d picked up from someone when he was a wee boy, and then sauntered in Lucy’s wake toward the exit.
That restlessness made itself known as soon as he was alone again.
A walk.
A walk along the beach would do him good.
The castle was in order. If he was needed, they’d call his mobile.
And if he stayed there any longer, he would give in to the urge to track down Robyn.
Lachlan had to prove to himself that he could stay away from her. In fact, he wouldn’t go to her tonight.
He dared himself not to.
* * *
Reaching for the phone on his bedside table for the millionth time, Lachlan tapped the screen and the clock lit up.
Three fifteen in the morning.
Sticking to his guns, he’d denied himself Robyn. Ate dinner with Arrochar at her place, stayed late into the night, and returned to the castle at midnight. If he was being honest, he’d hovered outside her door for a good five minutes before calling himself a weak-willed prick and then stormed into his room.
A grown man reduced to an addicted teenager by a woman a decade younger.
But what a woman she was. Lachlan groaned as he imagined from memory Robyn before him on her hands and knees. Never just receiving what he had to give but taking it, demanding it, bucking back into his thrusts with a savage, greedy lust. Just the memory of it made him painfully hard.
“Fuck,” he muttered, throwing the covers off the bed. He sat up, running a hand through his hair, feeling his willpower ebb.
She was mere feet away, across the hall. His if he wanted.
Why the devil was he denying himself?
Rat-a-tat-tat.
Lachlan looked up at the sound of the knock on his door.
Robyn?
He leaned over to switch on a
