He shrugs modestly. “I’m just saying, their beginnings were far more daft than ours. Hamish should be knocking on the door any minute to fetch ye.”
As if on cue, Hamish does.
“Ye either have my bodyguard on the other line or you’re watching me on one of your cameras,” I protest. The subject of security cameras hidden throughout the house came up after Logan left, cheerfully warning me that he intended to watch me undress every night and expected a show.
“Off ye go, lass. You’ll do just grand. And I intend to reward ye thoroughly when I get home.” With that damn rakish pirate grin of his, Logan signs with his thumbs together and his forefingers bent, tapping his knuckles together, creating a triangle. “I’ve been thinking of that pretty pussy constantly,” he groans. “Especially with my cock inside it.” He thrusts his finger between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand.
I flush bright red, giggling like a schoolgirl. “How did ye manage to learn all the dirty bits in sign language first? You’re terrible.”
“Ah, that’s because I adore all your dirty bits,” he growls, and damn him, I can feel myself getting wet.
“I canna go to testing with wet knickers! Ye must stop this right now!” My stern admonition is not my best because I’m laughing at the same time.
“Ye go on then. Just remember, when I get home, that pretty,prettypussy is mine.”
Logan signs goodbye and hangs up.Damn himfor being so filthy! And I’m the fool who’s loving it.
While I might be a wee bit biased, I think the University of Glasgow is one of the most beautiful places in Scotland. It’s a maze of imposing stone Gothic-style buildings with a profusion of towers and turrets and I think I’d crept into every single one of them during my undergrad years, looking out the tiny, arched windows and pretending I was a princess.
Maybe that’s why I’m so in love with Logan’s clock tower room.
I ponder this realization as I head into the big lecture hall. It’s filled with old-style wooden seats facing a long series of magnificent stained-glass windows. The size is a bit silly, since there’s less than fifty of us starting this particular Master’s program in fall.
“Arabella!”
“Carol? How are ye?”
She grabs me into a big hug as I find myself issuing a girlish squeal of excitement, a moment that will no doubt make me cringe when I recall it later.
Carol Winchester was one of my first friends here during my undergrad years, quickly learning sign language and politely bulldozing me into a social life on campus until she transferred to Oxford in our junior year. She’s blonde, blue-eyed and always so sweet. She is also the one who introduced me to my drunken ex, Ted, but I canna hold that against her.
“This is so lovely!” She’s mindful, facing me and shaping her words precisely. “I hated that we lost touch with each other.”
“Well, I’m so happy to see ye now. Are ye starting the Master’s program, too?”
We’re both signing and talking and the professor supervising the testing chuckles as she passes us into the hall. “Catch up later, if ye will. Let’s get started.”
Less than a month ago, I was crying in an empty classroom at the Wallace School for getting sacked from my second job. Smiling down at my test form as I open it, I marvel for just a moment at how fast everything can change. And it all started with that impossible, shameless, gorgeous man I married, both of us blasted out of our minds in front of a Danish registrar who was likely moments from laughing his arse off.
Focus. This is important,I scold myself.This is what will support you when we get divorced.
Suitably chastened, I read the first question.
“...so the best part is the cruise! It’s two weeks long and sails all over the Caribbean and then the Bahamas. It’s amazing. A chance to do something good and get a full princess experience aboard a cruise ship.” Carol gives me an impudent smirk. “It's a pity that you’re married now, I would have convinced you to come with me.”
We stopped by the campus coffee shop after the examination finished to catch up, Hamish politely sitting at a discreet distance with a mug of tea that he never touches.
Picking up my hand, she moves it so the light catches my ring. “Who is this man and does he have brothers?”
“Two, but one is married and the other is a wee bit young for ye,” I chuckle. Kai and his youngest brother Ewan stopped by the other day to invite me to dinner at their parent’s house on Sunday. It would have been rude to say no, but I’m hoping Logan will be home by then. Facing his entire family on his own sounds like as much fun as a root canal, even if the ones I’ve met already have been kind.
“I don’t know,” she muses. “Perhaps I could be convinced to be a cougar for a ring like that.”
“Tell me more about this study?” I deflect, trying not to picture Carol and Ewan, Logan’s seventeen year old brother, on a date.
Her eyes are sparkling and fingers flying as she signs as well, telling me more. Carol was always the most outgoing and sweetest of our group, and she’s genuinely excited about this study. “I’m AB-negative, and that’s the second rarest blood type in the world. So, the study is examining all the genetic components of the blood type to see if there’s a way to replicate some of the Rh factors to make other blood types compatible.”
“That sounds grand, it’s wonderful that you can be rewarded for volunteering for something so important.” I’m about to tell her about the students at the Wallace School when Hamish clears his throat in a very pointed way.
