Hush (Black Lotus #3)(20)

“Harrods is right across the street,” he tells me. “Lachlan can take you.”

I drop my sandwich onto the plate, huffing in mild irritation. “Lachlan? Really? So, I’m not allowed to walk across the street by myself, something a child is capable of doing?”

“I thought I made my concerns clear before we came.”

“You did, but I didn’t think he’d be at my side at all times.”

He cups my cheek as he stands, saying, “Must you fight me on everything?”

“Fine,” I exhaust. “I’ll see it your way this time, but you know he’s going to be pissed at you when he finds out you’re forcing him to do this particular errand.”

“That old man is always pissed at me. I can handle him.”

I laugh under my breath, enjoying the lightness of our exchange, and then ask, “What’s the attire?”

“Black tie.” He then gives me a kiss and starts heading back to his office when he calls out over his shoulder, “I’ll call for Lachlan.”

“Where is he taking me again?”

“Harrods,” he shouts from his office.

I grab my tourist book, flip to the shopping section, and read while I finish my lunch. I don’t have to wait long for Lachlan to arrive.

He’s slightly distracted—quiet—as the day moves forward, but I don’t push him to talk. Instead, I gather gowns to try on. I’m not sure what Declan’s preferences are the way I knew Bennett’s. I had more time to learn about Bennett, to study him. So I spend a good amount of time pulling gowns, second-guessing, and shoving them back on the rack.

Thank God for patient sales associates.

Lachlan sits outside the fitting room as I try on the various dresses. One by one, until I finally make my choice when I slip on the Givenchy in kombu green. I decide to take a step out and show Lachlan, but when I do, he’s not there. I walk past the empty chair and then hear his hushed voice.

Peeking around the corner, I spot him a few racks down on his cell and quickly retreat when I see him look my way. I strain to hear what he’s saying, hoping that it has something to do with my dad, but when I hear his harsh tone barking, “Calm down, Camilla,” under his breath, my mind begins to spin.

Camilla?

I step back into the fitting room and wonder why that name sounds so familiar. I trace back and it finally clicks.

Cal’s girlfriend.

I met her a few months ago when I accompanied Bennett on a trip to New York City. It was the night Declan showed up unexpectedly at his father’s house. But why the hell is Lachlan talking to her? Whatever the reason, he clearly doesn’t want me to know. Declan would have his ass if he knew Lachlan left me alone, so whatever he’s talking to her about must outweigh the risk.

After I make my purchases, he walks me back home and leaves after I’m safely inside the building.

“How’d it go?” Declan asks when I enter the apartment, and I hold up the garment bag, saying, “I found a dress.”

“Good,” he says, and my unease intensifies with the knowledge that Lachlan, a man that Declan highly trusts, is corresponding with his father’s girlfriend. “Everything okay? You look worried.”

I drape the gown over the back of the couch and approach Declan.

“I heard something strange today, and it has me feeling unnerved,” I tell him.

“What happened?” he questions with concern.

“It could be nothing, but did you know that Lachlan knows your father’s girlfriend?”

“Camilla?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? What happened?”

“I overheard him on the phone with her. He sounded mad or maybe annoyed.”

“What did you hear him say?”

“Nothing really, he just snapped at her to calm down, and when I heard him use her name, I went back into the fitting room. Something about the tone he used with her and the fact that he’d been distant the whole time I was shopping made me apprehensive.”

I see the unpleasant look on his face and ask, “What is it?”

“When we were scrambling to find you, I answered his phone when he wasn’t in the room. It was her and she called him baby. When she realized it was me on the line, she quickly ended the call.”

“Did you ask Lachlan what was going on?”

“He dismissed it as them being old friends. Honestly my mind was completely f*cked at the time.”

“Maybe it’s nothing,” I tell him.

“Maybe, but I’ll address it with him before I leave you alone with him again.”

“Declan . . .”

“Don’t contest me. I’m not willing to risk anything when it comes to you.”

“You can’t control the world.”

“No, but I control you and what happens to you,” he tells me as he takes my hand and places it on the side of his neck. “Do you feel that?”

I nod as his pulse beats hard into my palm. It’s an exorbitant sign of anxiety that he hides well, but it’s clearly at war with him on the inside.

“That’s you,” he says. “You’re my pulse. You’re the reason it beats and keeps me alive, so don’t defy me when it comes to protecting you, because I refuse to be reckless with my quintessence.”