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Chapter Eight
Eventually Talan picked her up and walked into the bathroom with her. She gave him a sleepy, relaxed smile, and said, “Delivery service. Nice.”
He smiled and said, “I hope it’s not too warm,” as he set her on her feet. He watched as she bent at the waist, trailing her fingertips through the water.
“No,” she said, stepping into the partially filled tub. As she lowered herself into the water, she groaned and added, “It’s perfect. Are you coming in with me?”
He considered for a moment and then said, “I could if you’d like.”
That sleepy, relaxed smile pulled across her face again as she said, “I’d like. Very much.”
As he stepped in behind her, she scooted forward so he could sink down behind her. By the time he’d settled, the water was perilously close to overflowing.
Lilly leaned forward, first turning off the water, then releasing the drain valve for a moment until the water had lowered to a reasonable level. After she’d settled back against him, he rested the side of his face on the side of her head. At least at this angle he could stare unabashedly at her beautiful body.
Her voice was soft and sleepy when she finally spoke. “Earlier, you were speaking in a foreign language. What was it?”
“Welsh,” he said. “At least I’d imagine. I was born in Wales and lived there for sixty years before I came to the Americas.”
“What were you saying?” she asked him.
Rwy’n dy garu di. I love you. But he wasn’t quite ready to have that discussion yet. It was too soon. There were too many things unsettled between them at this point. It was one thing to know what he felt and quite another to express it.
“I can’t remember exactly. Buried inside you, I wasn’t quite in my right mind, I’m afraid.”
She laughed and said, “It was beautiful, whatever it was. Say something else for me, please?”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and then whispered, “Diolch i chi am heno. Rydych wedi anrhydeddu mi eich rhodd,” in her ear.
“And, what did that mean?” she asked curiously.
“The direct translation was ‘Thank you for tonight. You have honored me with your gift’.”
“It was perfect,” she said.
He smiled at her earnest words and agreed, “Yes. It was.”
When she spoke next, he was startled by the subject change. “Welsh is a beautiful language. I thought with the red hair, you’d be Scottish. At least I guessed the right island.”
“You were close,” he acknowledged, smiling. “Wait until you meet Lachlan. I don’t think he could be more Scottish if he tried. He’s lived in Canada for thirty years now and he still has that thick brogue. ‘Dinna fret, wee lassie,’” he finished, his voice rich with humor.
“Who’s Lachlan,” she asked, laughing at his impression.
“My business partner. Probably the closest thing I have to family. You’ll meet him at some point soon, I’d imagine. He was very curious about you in Miami.”
“Oh really,” she said, sounding more than a little smug. “You talked to him about me in Miami?”
“I did. He was a little concerned with your Scotch choices. I tried the Balvenie 12 Year by the way.”
“Did you like it or was I off base?”
“It wasn’t bad. I was surprised that I liked it as much as I did. You should have seen Lachlan’s face when I ordered it though. He was so disgusted that he offered to loan me some cash for good Scotch.”
Lilly laughed. “What a good friend.”
“I made him try a sip and he ended up saying he didn’t hate it. Considering he’s a purist, that’s a ringing endorsement.”
“He sounds like a Scotch snob,” Lilly said. “Not everyone can afford a sixty-dollar glass of Scotch.”
