His body is like a steel cage around me, but as warm as the blanket he left on the chair and I sag against him, listening to the water rain down around us and the slow, silky progress of the soap, the lavender scent of it. He’s circling the sponge over my back now, his long arms easily reaching down to my ass.
“Yes. We’re all giants. Morana calls us Scottish Yetis.”
I give a weak chuckle. “Who’s Morana?”
“Cameron’s bride. You’ll meet the family at our wedding.”
Shoving away from him, I don’t notice when my back hits the other wall. “Wait. What?”
He has the nerve to look surprised. “Our wedding, the reason we gave your brother and sister so they’d hop on my jet and come here?”
“I didn’t- you didn’t say anything about awedding,”I wheeze. “Your entire family? Isn’t there’s a million of you?”
“The MacTavish Clan is large but this will be a smaller event, a celebration. We’re not exchanging vows again; I can’t afford Father Barclay for a second round.”
I frown. “Afford him?”
He ignores the question, pulling my thigh up to reach my foot with the soapy sponge. “Thecuirm pòsaidh, the celebration, is being put together by my mother, the terrifying Lady Elspeth MacTavish.”
“Terrifying? You’re not selling this, if that’s your plan,” I groan, picturing a horde of in-laws that I’m expected to face after mistakenly hiring their son and brother to murder my uncle.
“Shh, baby. Close your eyes and relax.” His long fingers are gently stroking some reddened marks the shibari rope had left on my wrists. They don’t hurt and I know they’ll fade soon. The sponge makes a last sweep between my legs and even though I can barely keep my eyes open, I shudder, clenching my thighs together.
***
Lachlan…
“How did the call go with the Professional?”
“Don’t call him that,” I rolled my eyes, “didn’t you attend the Ares Academy with him?”
“Aye,” Cormac agrees, “and he’s a feckin’ lunatic.”
“He wasn’t happy, but we came to an agreement.” I’m pacing on the terrace, watching my bride sleep in my bed. She was instantly asleep after I got her home and put her in my softest t-shirt. Her silvery hair spreads out on the pillow like moonlight.
Moonlight.
I’m one poetic arsehole.
“...handle the brother?”
“Sorry?”
“Let me guess.” My eejit brother is laughing, “You’re starin’ at Aria like a moony right now. How is she handling this?”
“She’s still trying to decide if she hates me,” I say, “I’m not naive enough to think a little light bondage is going to change that.”
“What the hell, Lachlan!”
“Never mind,” I interrupt. “What did you say?”
Cormac’s laughing hard enough to choke. I hope he does, the arse.
“I asked how you were going to handle the brother.”
“Like I know what the feck I’m doing, because despite my wife’s belief, I don’t think he’s ready to run the Syndicate. You should’ve heard his voice shake when she called them today.”
“You recorded it, didn’t you?”
