Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78773 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78773 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Keenan nods. “They’re well known in their parts.”
But my mind is on what Maeve has said. If I’m not the son of Guy O’Gregor… who am I?
“We’ve had many run-ins with the lot of you,” Keenan says to them. “And I agree, if you leave Stone City and relocate, we’ll call a truce. We’ll forgive all, but we want every last one of you out of here at the weekend. We’ll be checking.”
“Aye,” the man says. “You’ve our word.”
If they stay, they face war with us. We outnumber them by double, and our Clan is more powerful. If they leave, they can stay intact and solidify their brotherhood.
I want them fucking out of this country.
They shake hands, and the O’Gregors promise.
Keenan rounds up his men. “Home, boys. Now.”
We obey, heading to the cars they arrived in. We head back to the mansion in silence.
Much happened tonight. Much still needs to be discussed.
But as we drive back, Megan sits beside me. She rests her hand on my knee and her head on my shoulder.
No matter what transpires next, she isn’t leaving my side. I’ll see to it.
Chapter 18
Megan
The drive back to the mansion is nearly silent, save the beating of my heart. Wee Breena cried a bit when she reunited with her daddy, whispering things like, “bad men,” and “scared.” And at the look in Carson’s eyes, I half expect him to go back to Stone City and beat the living daylights out of any remaining O’Gregor.
But he doesn’t. He sits in the car and pats her back. She rests her head on his shoulder, and my heart swells. He’s a good daddy, and they love each other so.
“I’m so sorry that happened, Breena,” he whispers. “I won’t let that happen again.”
She nods, placing her little palm on his shoulder. He squeezes my knee and simply whispers, “Thank you.”
I don’t ask him for what. I’m not sure he’d know the answer. We drive the rest of the way in amicable silence until we arrive home, just as the sun sets. The drivers let us out, and we all quietly assemble, heading up to the main house.
The fragrant scent of herbs and grilled meat wafts through the air, and my stomach growls. “My God, we go to near war, but the kitchen doesn’t stop, does it?”
Carson smiles grimly. “Suppose not.”
“Thank God,” I mutter. “I’m starving. The… events of the day have worked up quite a hunger.” He squeezes my knee, and my body hums with need, like he’s switched me on. “A few types of hunger, one might say.”
His low, deep chuckle makes my skin prickle with awareness.
“The night isn’t over yet,” he says. “We’ve much to discuss.”
I sigh. “We all do, aye.”
“But will be better with a pint and some food in our bellies.”
“It usually is.”
“Dining room,” Keenan says. “Carson, would be best if you had one of the staff take Breena to—”
“No.” Breena says. She tightens her grip around Carson’s neck. “I not go. I stay.”
Keenan’s lips twitch. Maeve rubs her back and kisses her head. “Aye, lass,” she says, turning to Keenan. “We can watch what we say, but we’re not taking her away from daddy tonight.”
Breena nestles in and Carson closes his eyes, rocking with her back and forth. “Aye, Keenan,” he says, his voice respectful but determined. “Don’t ask me to let her go tonight.”
Keenan shakes his head, his voice husky. “’Course not,” he mutters. “Not sure what I was thinking.”
“But I’ll have you boys keep civil tongues in your heads, or you answer to me,” Carson says sternly. “None of your filthy curses.”
I love this man.
He can swear with the lot of them, but they all nod soberly.
“Clean as a whistle,” Lachlan says. “I’m fetching the girls from the bunker, will meet you all in the dining room.”
Keenan nods as we go up the stairs. Lachlan signals to Nolan, and they have a hushed conversation. My heart sinks. I hope he’s forgotten about Fiona, and I feel a bit guilty about that. I maybe shouldn’t have asked for her help.
I quickly confess to Carson. I fill him in briefly, and his brows rise.
“Is that right?” he asks, and the stern look he gives me from behind his glasses makes him look once more the stern professor. “If she gets in trouble, you’ll have to answer to me, now, won’t you?” his voice trails off, but his eyes grow heated.
“Will I?” I whisper. My pulse quickens underneath his stern gaze. “We’ve much to talk about, don’t we?”
He nods, leans over, and kisses my cheek. “Aye, lass,” he says. “We do.”
“Tonight?”
He squeezes my hand. “Tonight.”
My heart is at rest, knowing that he and I aren’t over, like I thought. I hated thinking everything I’ve felt toward him was for naught. Hated thinking that the two of us were over.