With Everything I Am (The Three #2)(114)

She straightened her shoulders, deciding the time had finally come and declared, “Because we need to talk.”

“You can talk in my lap.”

“I’d rather talk from over here.”

His voice was firm but still soft and warm when he ordered, “Sonia, come here.”

That voice did weird things to her system. Weird things such as setting the urge upon her. Weird things such as making her want to sit in his lap and put her mouth on him. Anywhere. Everywhere.

Yes, just his voice.

She fought the urge back.

“No, Callum, I –” she stopped speaking because he stood up.

Then she stared at him as he rounded his desk.

She began retreating too late.

He grabbed one of her wrists, pulled the coffee cup out of her other hand, set it on some papers on his desk and, as she tried to twist her wrist free, he yanked her to him. Then she was in his arms. He walked back around the desk and sat down with her in his lap. He calmly leaned forward, nabbed her cup and handed it to her then nabbed his.

Finally, his attention came to her and he invited, “Now, baby doll, what’s on your mind?”

Nothing.

Nothing was on her mind except for the fact that she was again in his lap where she’d told him she didn’t want to be.

“Sonia?”

She blinked at him, wanting to cry and scream at the same time (not to mention scratch his eyes out).

He waited.

She didn’t speak. There were too many words to say and she couldn’t put even two of them together.

“I see this is one of those times,” he muttered mysteriously, not sounding irritated or angry about whatever one of those times was, but amused. “All right, little one, this is what we’re going to do today,” he told her softly. “We’re going to go upstairs, I’m going to give you your injection then we’re going to go into town.”

She wasn’t keeping up. Her mind was churning but her body was registering the fact that she liked the safe, comfort of him so close.

“To town?” she asked.

“To town,” he answered. “Then we’re going to come home and you’re going to take it easy the rest of the day,” he finished. “Agreed?”

He took a sip of his coffee which would have given her time to agree or, say, perchance, disagree. But before she could speak, he slid her carefully off his lap, grabbed her hand and led her out of the room and up the winding staircase.

As he did, he spoke. “I talked with Dr. Mortenson while you were napping yesterday and he said your blood tests all came back normal. He’s still concerned. He says there’s a specialist consultant in Aberdeen he wants you to see. I made an appointment this morning for Friday.”

Sonia’s mind cleared at this astonishing news and she asked, “There’s a specialist in Scotland?”

“According to Dr. Mortenson there is.”

“I didn’t know there was such a thing,” she told him.

“Well there is, baby doll. And you’re lucky he’s a short flight away,” Callum replied, led her into the bathroom, gave her the injection, held her until the burning fire died away and held her long after.

“Callum,” she whispered when he didn’t seem to want to let her go, her hands gliding along his forearms which were crossed at her belly.

In these moments, now twice a day, she could believe in him, really believe.

His head came up and his now tawny eyes caught hers in the mirror.

“I hope to f**k this new doctor knows another way.”

His voice was rough with frustration and she could almost believe that too.

Lost in the moment, she promised, “You’ll get used to it.”

His laugh was as harsh as his voice before he said, “I don’t think that’s going to happen, baby doll.”

Then he zipped her pants, buckled her belt and took her to town.

* * * * *

“Town” was not a town.

It was an enchanting village. The cottages and buildings were all made of the same warm golden-red-brown as Callum’s castle. There was only one cobbled street which was lined with shops on both sides and, on small alleyways that led off the street and up the rise behind the village, there were picturesque cottages and houses.

The melted snow had given the cobbled streets a glistening shine and the sidewalks were all brushed clear of snow.

Regardless of the gray day that threatened more snow, the village seemed vibrant and fascinating. There was a bakery with jam donuts, cookies and pastries displayed in its window, a peek inside showing different loaves of bread and rolls on wire racks behind a heated counter filled with warm savories. There was a fruit and vegetable shop with brightly colored produce in bushels in suspended baskets outside. There was a florist with vivid blooms in steel buckets out front. There was a butcher, a drug store, a shop that looked like it sold nothing but fishing gear. Another store that looked like it sold nothing but yarn. A women’s clothing store with a window that displayed more active, outdoorsy gear (but the bags and sweaters looked lush). A gift shop, which, when Sonia stole a glance inside while they strolled past, looked like it was filled with fun bits and bobs, none of which you needed but all of which you could convince yourself you did. And there was a café that was heaving with people eating or ordering teas and cakes.