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A week passed too quickly because it was a beautiful week. When he wasn’t on his laptop, and I wasn’t taking calls from the office to advise them, we’d play with the baby. Watch him sleep. Take it in turns to change him, burp him, the usual. Since I’d gone back to work, Caelan had been a stay-home father and he loved it. I saw that now. He wasn’t itching to kill again, if he had ever itched for it at all. He only had a hidden desire to settle down where he belonged, and it turned out, he didn’t belong here. The truth was, I wasn’t sure where I belonged. I’d been a Londoner my whole adult life. I’d never not lived in the south. Heading for life in Scotland would be a whole new ballgame. Sure, it wouldn’t be like those terrible holidays at my grandmother’s in Perth, but it would be an enormous shift… and I liked my job. I really did. Loved it, in fact.
The night before Caelan was due to set off for who knew where, I sat staring at Logan with wonder as he drank his supper. Blond like his father, blue eyes like mine, though there was still time for all that to change. Whether he’d end up like me, a wildcat, or a lethal tiger like his father, who knew. Maybe he’d be none of that. Perhaps he’d be nothing like any of us, especially not Blake Rathbone, little Logan’s deceased grandfather. My dad.
Caelan strode into the bedroom, the one room in the house I’d designed, decorated and furnished all by myself. The thick pile carpet was champagne in colour, matching the silk drapes. A wall of sliding wardrobes, white, with lots of mirrors, existed opposite the bed. There were matching dressers on the adjacent side, then our large divan bed with a silk-upholstered headboard in line with the other décor. All complemented by crystal chandeliers, corresponding table lamps, pillows filled with feathers, layered bedding and a super comfy mattress. It was feminine, warm, with a splash of colour in the Vettriano hanging above the bed. The dancing couple.
He had packed already, I knew. I’d seen his duffel earlier in his dressing room down the hall (he had a lot of jackets and shoes, not to mention suits). Hence my clothes stayed in here, Junior’s in the nursery, and Caelan’s in his own special room. Originally, we were going to turn the en suite off this room into extra storage space, but just as Caelan was about to create a huge walk-in, I’d decided I didn’t want that. I’d keep the en suite. That’s what happens when you decide to have a child and know at any minute, you might need quick access to that bathroom. For myriad reasons!
He sat on the edge of the bed near us and rubbed his hand up and down my leg.
“I’ll be back before ye can blink,” he said.
“Don’t make promises, Caelan.”
A wave of anxiety came over me now and again at the thought of where he might be going. With whom. And what for…
“I’ve always wondered something, Callie.” He looked away, mentally anticipating my next snippy comment. “How many times did you save my life before we ever spoke?”
I watched his throat shift dramatically as he swallowed. He kept his eyes on the floor, avoiding looking at me. “Maybe if ye’d prefer to sleep at night, I shouldna say.”
“I suppose so.”
He rubbed my ankle and murmured, “Harold will pick you up from Aberdeen tomorrow.”
“I know.”
As he was going his way, I was going mine.
I knew he wasn’t going to tell me anything, but I still said, “Where are you going?”
“Within Europe,” he said, but that still didn’t give me comfort—not if my husband had been requested to do this on behalf of the King.
The King!
Dangerous people still existed in Europe. Just because it wasn’t the Middle East…
Then, I realised.
We looked at one another at the same time. “Ukraine.”
“Aye.”
Shit. An actual full-blown war zone.
The look he shot me was one of utter determination. “I’ll get it done.”
“I know you will, even if it takes your life.”
He sighed and moved closer, stroking the baby’s head.
Once Logan was fed, I got up and went into the en suite to shower. While the water heated up, I heard Caelan tending our son, burping and then singing to him.
I was halfway through my shower when Caelan walked into the space behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist and breasts. Arching into his touch, I groaned and shuddered the moment his mouth touched my throat.
“I saved ye from her clutches at least ten times,” he growled.
“I know.”
I turned in his arms and kissed him, lashing my tongue at his. He backed me to the wall out of the way of the water spray and I jumped into his arms.
