Page 70 of Defiant Queen (Mount Trilogy 2)
Are you fucking kidding me? the voice in my head challenges. You’re Lachlan Mount. You have the gold. You make the rules. That means you can have whatever the fuck you want.
And what I want, more than anything, is to hear Keira call me by my first name again.
But this time . . . sober.
Keira
I’m not looking at him.
I’m not looking at him.
I. Am. Not. Looking. At. Him.
I fail and glance up for the hundredth time on this interminable flight, and take in the man before me.
I’ve used the word never so many times when it comes to Mount, only to break my vows, that I don’t know what to think anymore.
Why does he have to be who he is? That’s the conflict I can’t get past. Somehow on this trip, I’ve convinced myself that if he were anyone else, everything would be different, and I would finally have found the one man who can give me everything I want and need. A partner.
But with each hour we spend in this plane, I can feel darkness gather around him like a tangible cloud, snuffing out the easiness of his posture that loosened more each day we were in Dublin.
I want a do-over.
I want a chance to revel in the differences that I didn’t appreciate enough while we were there.
But I can’t have that either.
When the wheels of the jet touch down on the runway at Lakefront Airport, I will go back to being Keira Kilgore, in debt to Lachlan Mount up to my eyeballs, my body his to use as he wishes in repayment.
Nothing will have changed, but at the same time, it feels like everything has.
I bury myself in work, expanding on all the notes I made after the distillery tour. I compose an email to Deegan Sullivan, thanking him personally and giving him an open invitation to come to Seven Sinners anytime he happens to be in New Orleans.
Then I start working on a plan for how we can implement safety measures in the most economical way so we can discuss starting tours of the distillery. For the first time, I don’t give a single thought to what my father will say when he hears about it.
The crystal-bottle award lying beside me tells me that what we’re doing at our little distillery matters, and it’s my job to take us to the next level in any way I possibly can.
I tell myself I won’t touch the capital in the bank unless I absolutely have to, because I want to be able to repay the debt.
But if I do that, what ties me to the man seated across from me? Nothing.
Only a week ago, I would have celebrated the idea.
There’s something wrong with me. I can’t possibly feel this way.
By the time the tires hit the runway and the jet comes to a halt in front of the hangar, I’ve come to terms with something that terrifies me more than anything else ever has.
I don’t hate Lachlan Mount.
Mount leads the way down the stairs, holding out a hand at the bottom. Before we left, I changed out of my gown and into a simple white blouse and a pair of dark skinny jeans. Mount didn’t bother to change out of his suit. At this point, I consider it his natural uniform.
I expect to see Scar waiting for us with the usual car, but Mount strides toward the hangar door.
“Is he late? He’s never late.”
“V’s not coming. I’m driving.”
We step inside the large metal building, and a black muscle car with white racing stripes is parked inside.
