The Scotch Royals (Scotch #3)

While my brother’s actions were illegal, I was relieved it wasn’t something worse. In his line of work, there were limited casualties. He didn’t walk into a bank with guns blazing and shoot innocent clerks behind the desk. He was committing an international crime, but at least it wasn’t murder. “I’m so relieved.” My hand moved across my chest as the adrenaline faded away and I was left feeling relaxed.

“You’re relieved your brother is a thief?” he asked with a chuckle.

“I’m relieved he’s not a murderer.”

“At least you have a positive outlook on things.” Now that the plane was cruising at a constant speed and there was no turbulence, Crewe removed his safety belt. “I’m gonna make some calls in my office. Get some sleep.”

“You can call people on the plane?”

“I can do anything on here.” He winked. “Even fuck you in the bedroom.”

It was a twelve-hour flight, so that might happen. “Can I lie down?”

“Of course. Come with me.”





9





Crewe

When the plane landed on the strip, London was noticeably more relaxed. I’d flown with her several times, and her attitude was always the same. She was tense, uncomfortable, and nearly terrified the entire flight.

I found it interesting because she was a strong person in every other regard. When she first became my prisoner, she never showed a single ounce of fear. All of my remarks were met with insults, and even when I grabbed her by the neck, she didn’t cower in fear. If she fell, she got back to her feet even stronger than before.

But a plane was enough to make her uneasy.

Didn’t make any sense.

We got into the car and drove from the airport to the castle at the edge of Edinburgh. London had slept for most of the plane ride, so she was rested. I’d been on the phone or taking care of emails, so I’d been awake most of the time. I’d fucked her when she woke up and took a short nap before we landed.

Now I was about to pull up to my house at three in the morning. Ariel wouldn’t be there, so I had a few hours before I had to tell her the truth about London. She would be insanely pissed, and our heated argument would last for several days before she finally accepted my choice.

Or maybe she would never accept it.

Ariel was one of the few people I trusted in the world, so a part of me felt guilty for doing something she was so strongly against. She’d been right about London to begin with, but I was still bringing her back.

I knew I looked weak in Ariel’s eyes.

When we pulled up to the house, London stared at it like she’d never seen it before. She stepped out of the car and stared at the lights that glowed outside the walls. The fountain in the front splashed with water that echoed in the clearing. A slight breeze moved through her hair, pulling it in front of her face.

The men grabbed the suitcases and carried them into the house, leaving the two of us alone to admire the stone walls of the ancient structure that had been refurbished ten years ago. When I remodeled the place, I preserved as much as I could while maintaining the integrity of the foundation.

I came to her side and stared at the two enormous front doors. “Feels like home?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, her thin jacket not heavy enough to keep her warm. “Actually, it does…”

I let her admire the castle for another moment before I grabbed her hand and took her inside. Since she’d been gone, I hadn’t changed much. The only difference was the rug and the walls in the hallway where I’d been shot. Everything had to be changed because of the bloodstains. I purposely took her in a different direction so she wouldn’t have to revisit the memory from the past.

We entered the royal chambers, where our suitcases sat inside the walk-in closet. The bedroom was exactly how I’d left it when she left. I hadn’t used the bed or anything else in the room. It turned into a storage facility for my clothes and watches.

“It smells different in here.”

I stripped off my jacket and placed it on the hanger. The left side of the closet was for the maids to pick up for dry cleaning, so I placed it far to the left and shut the door. “I can have the maids clean it again.”

“No, it’s not that. It just…doesn’t smell like you. A hint of your cologne was always in the air. I remember it always smelling like wood and smoke from the fireplace. Something is just off. I can’t explain it.”

I unbuttoned my shirt and tossed it in the hamper. “Well, I haven’t been living in here for a while.”

“I guess that’s true. You have been in America for the past week or so.”

Ever since she’d left me, I hadn’t used the bedroom. I slept in different quarters down the hall. The sheets and bedding had been washed, but she and I were the last people to have enjoyed the bed. Every time I tried to come back, the pain washed over me. Everything reminded me of her, and it was impossible not to think about her when her presence was still heavy in the walls. Sasha and I stayed down the hall because I couldn’t fuck her in the bed I used to make love to London in. Just couldn’t do it. “I haven’t slept in here since you left.” I turned my back and unfastened my watch, an excuse to hide my face. My expression remained stoic, but my eyes always gave me away.

“Then where have you been sleeping?”

“Down the hall.”

Silence followed my words. London didn’t speak again, probably because she didn’t know how to respond. I never told her how devastated I was when she left because I wouldn’t even admit to myself that I was in pain. That was the biggest confession I ever could have made, that I missed her so much I didn’t want to tarnish my last good memory of her.

She came up behind me and rested her face against the area between my shoulder blades. “Why?”

It was a stupid question because she knew the answer. I couldn’t fuck another woman on a bed I considered holy. I couldn’t brush my teeth and not expect to see her reflection in the mirror. I couldn’t open a drawer and be indifferent to her panties and socks sitting on top. But I didn’t say any of that. I gave the simplest response. “Because I loved you just as much when you were gone as I did when you were here.”

She pressed a kiss against my skin, her soft lips sticking to my body like glue. She left her mouth there for a few seconds before she pulled away, keeping her hands on my triceps. “Crewe…” She rested her forehead against my back, her breathing uneven. “I missed you so much. When you told me we were done…I was devastated.”

Initially, her tears had made me happy. I’d wanted to hurt her the way she hurt me. But now I didn’t ever want to cause her pain. “I was just angry.”

“I know that now.” Her arms circled my waist as her face remained against my back. “When I went back to New York, it didn’t feel the same. Nothing had changed. The crowds were the same, the buildings were the same, my morning coffee tasted the same…but everything was different. I tried dating, but I never liked anyone. When I touched myself, I thought about you…”

I closed my eyes at her confession, picturing my woman touching herself and thinking about me. I’d witnessed it before, and it was definitely the hottest thing I’d ever seen. I’d touched that clit a hundred times, but I loved watching her do it herself.

“What do we do now?” she whispered.

“About?”

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