Thinking about fucking my bride inside the clock tower instantly makes me hard again. Damnit, I’m gonna develop a medical condition if this shite keeps happening.
“Let me show ye around.”
Arabella paused as I opened the front door. “Is it your cousins, then, who live in the other houses? They’re all nestled in too close to be strangers.”
“Ye have a sharp eye. One belongs to my cousin Michael, you met him on the rescue mission. The house across from me is Kai’s, and my cousin Mason owns the other. We all loved the layout of the square, easier to defend, the iron gates and security measures discourage anyone who might want to linger.”
“Ye talk like you’re a commander bracing for an attack on the castle.” She’s frowning, examining the big security panel in the front hall.
“Aye, in a way, we are,” I admit. “It’s a concentration of MacTavishes, combining our security just made sense.”
“MacTavish…” she muses, strolling down the hall. “What is the plural? MacTavishes? MacTavi? Aye, MacTavi. A plethora of MacTavi.”
“Like a rout of wolves?” I ask, catching up so she can read my lips.
“Or a flutter of butterflies,” she says sweetly.
“More like a frenzy of sharks.”
“Ye keep going back to the deadly ones,” she says tauntingly. “Also, it’s a shiver of sharks.”
“That canna be correct.”
“I watch a lot of the Discovery Channel.” She stops at the entry to the great room. “This is… imposing.”
Kai was in and out of town so much that he’d had a decorator design his place. I never liked the idea of someone else shaping my surroundings. The floors throughout the house are a dark, burnished walnut. I’d kept all the old iron-paned gothic windows and took out the second floor over the great room to give it more height. The fireplace is a monstrous thing and demands a ridiculous amount of firewood on chilly nights.
I love it.
“It’s big, but it’s comfortable.” I squeeze her arse. “Like me.”
“Oh, ye are so vain,” she laughs. “But thisisbeautiful. The furniture is gigantic, too. Did ye have all this custom-made?”
“I’m 6’5. Everything is too low or I’m always knocking my knees into a table or a chair. It made sense at the time.” Watching her try to lean back in one of the big leather armchairs is a wee bit hilarious. The seat is so deep that she looks like a child trying to wiggle into place. “We can always downsize a few pieces.”
“Based on the men I’ve met so far from your family, you’re all gigantic creatures, so I suppose your enormously oversized furniture makes sense,” she says wryly, standing up.
“Ethan - another cousin - married an American recently. Sloan insists on calling us Scottish Yetis.”
“That makes so much sense.”
“Come into the kitchen, ye Bessie.” Arabella snickers as I scowl down at her. She is unmoved. Apparently, my glare no longer acts as a deterrent with her.
“Mum was insistent that her sons know how to make a few edible meals,” I explain. “The art of sewing on a button and understanding how the dishwasher works. As it turns out, I like to cook.”
“This is ridiculously large for one person, but you’ve kept it homey, somehow.” She runs a hand down the big black and gray granite countertop.
Suddenly, the thought of showing her my bedroom, well, throwing her on my bed and fucking her senseless is taking over my good sense. Seizing her hand and pulling her toward the stairs, I narrate rapidly. “There’s a pantry past the kitchen and a bathroom. Second floor…” I barely give her a chance to glance down the hall. “Gym. Study. Guest bedrooms.”
My bride is laughing breathlessly.
“Third floor. Master bedroom. And… I’ve changed my mind.”
“Changed your mind about what?” She yelps as I throw her over my shoulder and sprint up the last flight of stairs.
“Ye need to see the clock tower.” Throwing open the steel door, I set her down.
“Oh…Logan. This is magical.”
