The next morning, I want to take her again and she damn near begs me to, but I don’t want to hurt her. Now that we have the Boston guard to defend us, I feel mildly better about her safety. I try to remind myself she’s here for school, not just to be with me. We use the private entrance and exit to our hotel, and she uses my being in town to explain to her friend why she isn’t at the dorm.
She won’t ever go to the dorm, and we both know that now. She’s far safer under my protection. If she wants a normal college experience, I can give her that, and I’ll do my very best, but the reality is, she outgrew dorm life ages ago.
It’s far from normal, what we’re doing. I can’t take her out to dinner or even walk the streets freely, but she does see Aisling while Tiernan and I investigate about the blokes they saw their first night here. We can’t find who they are, probably hired by whoever’s out to hurt us.
Keenan keeps close tabs on us, and Nolan calls several times a day. I tell Nolan as much as he needs to know, and keep silent on things he doesn’t. Yes, she’s safe. Our visit to Boston’s inner city nightclub? That he doesn’t need to know, and Sheena needs to know even less.
Nothing of consequence happens over the weekend, but I wonder if we’re being lulled into a place of complacency now that we’ve gotten the Boston mob on our side. I do my job and Fiona prepares for class, but it seems like we’re in a sort of holding pattern.
“What’s on your mind, Lach?” Fiona says Monday morning. She comes to me holding a steaming cup of tea. I’m sitting by the balcony window, looking out over the harbor, contemplating another way to draw out those who may threaten us.
I often hold myself back from her. I don’t tell her my fears or concerns. I want to shield her from all of it, but I know now that I can’t always do that. She’s no child.
“The sea isn’t the same,” I finally tell her. “The water’s darker here. Tamer. And hell, it’s even a different color, isn’t it?”
She slides onto my lap and wraps her arm around my neck, and I breathe easier than I did before. “Aye,” she says with a sigh. “I’m homesick, too.”
Until she said that, I didn’t realize I was.
“Have you heard from Keenan?” she asks. “Is Maeve better?”
I frown, disappointed in myself. I completely forgot she was ill. “I haven’t. I’ll call him today.”
“I’ve got a nagging suspicion, Lachlan,” she says as she looks out at the harbor. “If she isn’t better, I wonder, is someone trying to hurt her?”
“What? Why would you think such a thing.”
She frowns. “Think about it. Have any of you men been attacked?”
I do think about it. “The guards, aye, but none of the men of the Clan.”
“I don’t know,” she says. “Something’s not right.”
Of course it isn’t. It’s why I keep her within sight at all times, and why I’ve damn near signed my soul to the devil to align ourselves with the Boston mob.
“It isn’t,” I tell her. “But for today, let’s talk about your plans.”
She nods. “Right, then. I’ve got Early Childhood Development at nine, followed by Calculus at eleven, and Modern World History at one.”
“Sounds thrilling,” I mutter.
She playfully smacks my shoulder, then sighs. “It seems such a waste to have a man like you who’s so powerful within the Clan, sitting around outside my classes like a babysitter.”
I frown. “Bodyguard,” I amend. “Sounds much better.”
She shrugs and smiles. “Suppose. But still, I feel like your time’s being waste.”
I nudge her shoulder with my nose and inhale her sweet scent. “Protecting you is never a waste of time.”
Soon, our tea’s forgotten and I carry her to bed. I roll her on her back and kiss her until she arches for more. At her pleading, I take her again. I glide into her as gently as I can, my troubles forgotten in the heat of making love to her.
We walk hand in hand to campus an hour later, no trace of a threat to either of us in sight. She meets Aisling at the coffee shop, and I take my position outside her classroom.
Nothing seems out of place, but my conscience isn’t easy. Someone or something’s lurking.
Fiona comes out of her first class and comes straight to me. She’s either oblivious of the stares of others or doesn’t care what they think when she walks up to me, puts her arms around my neck, and kisses me. “I missed you,” she whispers in my ear.
I hold her to me and kiss her back. “Missed you, too, sweet girl. Did you behave yourself in class?”