Unravel Me. Lynn Montagano
The mattress moved as Alastair stirred next to me, draping an arm over my stomach. His face held none of the dispassionate, guarded façade it did while he was awake. Sleep almost gave him a seraphic glow. My tragic angel.
Carefully removing his arm, I almost managed to get up without waking him.
“Lia,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “Stay with me.”
“I’m just getting some water,” I whispered, kissing his forehead.
“Hurry back, love.”
He was sound asleep before I left the bedside. I tiptoed to the living room. The cottage floors were old and creaky so I made sure to move as quietly as possible. I noticed the green light on my cell phone blinking from the coffee table. I grabbed it and took a small blanket from the couch. Taking a deep breath, I unlatched the door and went outside. A chilly breeze swept over my bare skin. Even in July Scotland had a way of reminding me not to get overly comfortable with the warmer temperatures.
Hugging the blanket around me, I unlocked the phone. Several text messages from Nathan waited for me. I was about to respond when the phone vibrated in my hand.
“What?” I hissed.
“I thought you’d be sleeping,” Nathan drawled. “Did I wake you?”
“No. Why the hell are you calling me in the middle of the night?”
I heard him sigh in a way that suggested he was rubbing his hand over his face. I’d seen him do that a million times, usually when he was frustrated. “When do you get back to Orlando? I need to see you.”
I scrunched my toes into the cool grass. “No, you don’t.”
“Listen,” he snapped, “do you want my help or not? If you do, we’re doing this my way.”
“I don’t take orders from you. We don’t ever need to be in the same space.”
“Dammit Lia, stop being so difficult.”
My anger at him and with myself for reopening this door flooded my body. “I’m not say—”
The phone was ripped from my hand. I spun around, coming face to face with one pissed off Englishman. Alastair put the phone to his ear and said in a deadly calm tone, “Leave. Her. Alone.”
Moonlight cast a silver glow on his stony expression, accentuating the unfiltered animosity in his eyes. He remained still as a statue, holding my phone in a death grip. Seconds passed by with slow torture.
“Call or talk to her again and it will be one of the last things you do.” Ending the call, he lowered his hand and stared at me. “Is this what’s been bothering you?”
I couldn’t answer. I just pulled the blanket tighter. Reaching out as though he was going to touch my cheek, Alastair stopped and scowled. Vulnerability hovered behind his eyes like smoke before disappearing, wrenching my heart.
“I—”
“Tell me why you were on the phone with him, in my front garden, at two in the morning.”
This wasn’t a request. Gone was the relaxed, playful man I’d spent the day with. I was now presented with his public persona, the one so guarded and locked it gave weight to the reputation that he was standoffish and didn’t want to be bothered. I hated knowing I caused this side of him to materialize.
“He’s been after me all week about some exclusive interview.” The words flowed out of my mouth with little effort. I had no idea my brain could even work let alone react with such logic. “He won’t tell me what it’s about and already,” I raked a hand through my tangled hair, “finagled a dinner meeting out of me this week.”
A raised eyebrow was his only response.
“I hated every second of it,” I blurted. “He kept apologizing for everything and wanted to make amends. I didn’t—”
“Do you want to be with him?” he interrupted with strained agony in his voice.
Air rushed out of my lungs forcing me to bend forward and clutch my thighs. “No. Jesus, Alastair, why would you even think that?”
“You know his demons. You don’t know all of mine. Familiarity can be comforting even in the most undesirable circumstances.”
“That’s crazy talk and you know it.” I moved closer to him. “This is all on me. I fucked up and should have told you but I wanted this weekend to be about us. No drama. No stress. Just you. And me.”
Dropping the blanket, I put my hands on his bare chest. I felt the ferocious vibrations of his heart beating and waited for him to push me away or shrink further into his shell. How could I expect him to see me as his safe place if I treated him this way? A hot, gritty lump forced its way up my throat.
“Look at me.” He wrapped both hands around my neck, pushing his thumbs into my jaw and compelling me to look up. Passion and determination blazed from his eyes. “I’ve never worked harder at anything in my life. Every instinct I have tells me not to get attached to you, not to let you in. But you are my clarity. I’ve never felt as strongly for someone as I do for you and it scares the shit out of me. I will move heaven and earth for you but if I am not what you want—”
“You are the only thing I want,” I yelled, my voice echoing through the darkness.
“—I will step aside.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, dulling the stars and muting the moon’s glow. I couldn’t breathe. I could only stand and shiver. Letting go of my neck, he bent down and picked up the blanket, draping it over my shoulders. I wilted under the heaviness, feeling it more as a burden than comfort.
“I’m sorry.” Thick tears rolled down my cheeks. Wiping them away with his thumb, he considered saying something. Instead, he kissed the corner of my mouth. I grabbed the back of his head, pulling his lips to mine, desperate to show him how much I loved him. He held me tightly, kissing down my neck, whispering words of affection. You are my world…my everything…always…always…always.
Scooping me in his arms, he carried me back into the cottage.
* * *
Buchanan Street was apparently the place to be on Sunday afternoon. Scores of high-end retail stores lined both sides of the pedestrian friendly street. For someone as well-versed in shopping as me, this was heaven. Warm sunlight shone down as Alastair and I walked hand in hand on the strikingly beautiful granite stonework. I drank in the intricate mix of Victorian architecture and urban design. Glasgow had quickly become one of my favorite places on earth.
“This way.” Alastair tugged gently at my hand, guiding me down another street lined with shops. We stopped in front of a jewelry store. My pulse skyrocketed when he reached for the door.
“Are we going in there?”
“Yes, love.”
Either I swayed or a rare earthquake shook the sidewalk.
“Relax, Lia. It’s not what you think. Not yet.”
He led me to a display case filled with glittering diamonds, emeralds, sapphires and every other precious stone imaginable. Bypassing those, he stopped at the far end of the display. Inside sat the most unique, beautiful ring I’d ever seen. A gorgeously polished cognac amber nugget was nestled beneath a swirling setting of white gold encrusted with small diamonds. The nugget was huge and oval within its imperfect shape. The setting was wrapped around the amber, almost mimicking a hug.
“Mr. Holden. Welcome back,” a well-dressed man from behind the counter greeted him. I glanced at the lapel of his dark suit and noticed a nametag. Alright, Robert.