“I concur with you on that,” he said. “Pushing her to talk has never worked, and she might run again if she feels trapped.”
I weighed his words and nodded. “Do you know why I really don’t want to go through the process of restoring a castle?”
“Why?”
“Because I want to marry you.” I looked him in the eyes. “I want to plan our party and celebrate with our friends. I want to have more babies with you. I’m tired of waiting, Sasha. There’s always some roadblock popping up between us. No more.”
His smile was slow, beautiful. And when his smile turned into a wicked grin, my heart galloped in excitement.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “You plan the party. I’ll find us our home.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “Would it bother you if I didn’t wear white for our private ceremony?”
“Myshka,” he began, “you could wear a towel and I wouldn’t care. All I want is for you to marry me. I’m tearing your wedding dress off of you on our wedding night anyway. It doesn’t matter what color it is.”
My eyes went hazy with the vision he painted.
“Now I have your attention,” he said with a smirk. “Helena’s still asleep. What do you say we have our own nap?”
“You mean a naked nap?” I teased.
He arched a brow. “Is there any other kind?”
Chapter26
SASHA
I creptfrom the guest room, not wishing to disturb Quinn who had fallen asleep. Late afternoon sun painted the wooden floor in bright rays as I closed the door behind me. It had been raining off and on since we’d arrived a few days prior, but there was a break in the weather, and I decided to venture outside to walk around the estate grounds.
The house was far quieter than it should’ve been. I assumed that meant the Campbell boys were burning off energy that was inherent in youth.
I passed their playroom. Empty. I trekked down the staircase, and headed for the kitchen, wanting to grab a drink.
I paused when I heard Barrett on the phone with someone.
“No, I’m not having this discussion with you again. It’s over. We’re done.I’mdone. I’m not doing this with you any longer.”
Her words filled my chest with ice.
Was Barrett having an affair?
No. I didn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it. She wouldn’t do that to Flynn. To her family.
But what the hell? What other explanation could there be?
I debated for all of five seconds before marching into the kitchen, wanting to catch her in the act of talking to her lover on the phone. Instead, I caught her gripping the counter, her head bent and her breathing harsh and rapid.
“Barrett?” I asked.
She whirled, putting a hand to her heart. Her hazel eyes were unnaturally wide in her pale face. Her cheekbones were stark and bony. Now I knew the truth; her sleeplessness and lack of focus was more than just adjusting to a new baby.
Barrett was haunted by the guilt of her affair.
“Where are the boys?” I asked.
“Boys,” she repeated. “With Barnabas. There’s a new litter of puppies. Angus drove them over there.”
“And Flynn?”
