Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“Not much at all, no,” I say truthfully. “I’m very sorry, I didn’t know.”
He turns to me and brushes his palm against the side of my face. “You’re a sweet girl, Bryn. But remember one thing, love. You don’t ever apologize for things you aren’t responsible for. You didn’t know.” He shrugs. “And I’m glad of it. Makes me feel like we’ve a clean slate.”
But he doesn’t tell me any more about Tavish.
“It’s late, Mac. Will anyone be up?”
He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’m taking you to my private home first. You’ll come back here in the morning for breakfast and meet my sisters and family.”
I squirm, a little uncomfortable about the thought of meeting his family.
“Will they… want to meet me? I don’t know much about our families, but I… I do wonder if it’s… awkward?”
He smiles, bends, and kisses my cheek. “I’ll make sure it isn’t.”
He opens his door, then comes around to my side and opens mine for me.
“If this is your family home, then where’s yours?”
“We each have chalets, smaller, private homes where we live, near the main house. I spend quite a bit of time at the main house, but once we are of age, we’re given a choice to move to our own place or stay. Of course, every one of us has chosen our own place.”
“Yeah, I wish things would go like that with us.”
I wonder how things are going at home, if everyone’s okay. There’s a severe shortage of people I could reach out to. I hate my brother, and my father’s preoccupied with things. My mother doesn’t know how to use a mobile ever since the stroke, and her caretaker’s unapproachable and grumpy.
“So where are you, then? Where’s your place?”
“Closest to the main house.”
We walk down a steep incline, and it looks as if we’re walking down to nowhere. From here, we can barely see the mountains that surround us, and the trees that flank each side of the main house.
Then we turn a bend, and I breathe in quickly. I hadn’t seen the little chalets before, but that's no surprise because it's so dark out. Each little one looks like a magical hut, like fairies or elves designed them long before humans ever lived.
“Oh, wow, Mac. This is gorgeous.”
“Thanks very much,” he says humbly, then he stops short. “You know, on second thought, we do need to go to the main house, don’t we? You don’t have a thing with you.”
I shake my head. “Nope. Definitely unprepared for an impromptu sleepover.”
“Come, then. Islan will probably be up.”
I don't know why I'm more nervous about meeting his sister than I am his father and mother. Just knowing that he’s rival mafia should make me afraid of meeting his family. But sometimes meeting another woman is most intimidating of all.
“Don’t be afraid,” he says gently. “They don’t bite.”
How does he know I'm nervous? I didn't say anything. I don't even think my demeanor says that I'm afraid of anything.
“I’m not nervous,” I lie.
A corner of his lips quirks up. “Ah, doll. Did you forget what lying earns you, then?”
That gives me a little tingle. I don’t respond.
We walk up large stone steps that lead to the main house. There’s a light on in the front, casting a yellowish glow on the steps before us. Large, sturdy green plants line the stairs, and a wreath made of woven branches graces the door.
It smells faintly of woodsmoke and a cold Scottish spring when we reach the main door. He takes out a large set of keys and opens the door.
The house is quiet when we enter. In the distance, there's a gentle hum of a dishwasher. Somewhere, a clock strikes midnight, but there are no other sounds in the house but our own footsteps as we enter.
He whispers as he puts his mobile up to his ear, “Let me call Islan.”
He frowns a moment later, shaking his head. “Went to voice mail. I’ll try Paisley.”
Islan and Paisley. His two sisters, then.
No answer there either.
“Crap,” he mutters. “Both asleep. They’ve got wedding festivities or some such. They might even be with their friends tonight, planning everything.”
I nod. “It’s alright,” I whisper. “I’ll just sleep in your tee and brush my teeth with my finger. No need to get all fancy for one wee night, Mac.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll call Cairstina.”
No idea who that is either. Thankfully, he explains.
“My brother Leith’s wife. You’ll like her.”
He dials, and a moment later whispers into the phone. “So sorry for calling so late. Did I wake you?”
I’d have expected a man like him to be scarier, more intimidating, but he’s got a gentle side to him I can’t deny.
He whispers his request, then nods. “She’s here, at the house. Leith’s got the baby at their own house, but she was here visiting Islan. She’ll be down in a minute.”