Page 90 of Beautiful Monster
“Whoever it was, they followed us in a smaller boat and set off the mortars from there,” he says grimly. Sure enough, a cabin cruiser comes roaring up, running alongside us.
“Of course,” he sighs. “Of course it was my father.”
Lachlan’s on the bridge of the boat, grinning wildly and waving his arms. “I flew to Beijing to get the biggest and brightest fireworks they had!” he shouts. “They were saving these for the Queen’s birthday, but no one can say no to true love.”
“And a fistful of cash,” Mason growls.
“Enjoy your honeymoon!” He waves once more as whoever is piloting the cabin cruiser turns toward land again.
“It could have been worse,” I venture. “He could have brought one of those surface-to-air missiles.”
Squeezing me in his nice, long arms, my husband shakes his head. “Are you sure you want to be a MacTavish?”
“Too late for second thoughts,” I say, kissing his jaw, “we already said ‘I do.’ Three times.”
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