But no one had ever wanted to run away from him afterward. Until Robyn.
It bothered Lachlan.
Why was she glad to be rid of him? He knew she loved the sex. There was no denying that the two of them were a combustible pairing. Fuck, but the woman turned him on. And vice versa.
Maybe that was it.
The sex was addictive, and it bothered him she didn’t seem to want to stick around for more when he found it hard (literally) to let her go. And he’d been contemplating when they could find time to do it again since the moment she’d left. He’d barely considered anything else. Not Mac, not the estate.
Jesus. The last time he’d been this consumed by sex, he was a teenager.
“So rhubarb is good, yeah?” Guy asked.
The word pulled Lachlan’s head out of his arse. “No. What? No … I mean, what?”
His chef raised an eyebrow. “Rhubarb. It’s seasonal. Excellent at the moment. I was going to incorporate it into the new menu.”
“No.” Lachlan abhorred the stuff. “No rhubarb. Ever.”
“Okay.” Guy crossed the word off his notepad. “Then I’ll need to rethink part of the menu.”
“Everything else sounds good.”
“Great.” Guy stood but seemed to hesitate.
“Anything else?”
The man appeared uncomfortable, and Lachlan understood why when Guy said, “I hate to ask, but … well, Arro isn’t answering my calls. Can you call her and get her to call me back?”
His immediate thought was, why isn’t she answering your calls? Those protective instincts raised his defenses. “What happened?”
The chef startled at Lachlan’s almost bark. “Oh, nothing. It was just a stupid fight after the ceilidh. I was drunk and said something I didn’t mean. You know how that is. I want to apologize.”
Despite the chef’s sincerity, Lachlan’s concern was for his sister. Arrochar wasn’t a huffy woman. She didn’t know how to hold a grudge. Unlike her brothers. In fact, Arro had always been the voice of reason in their family, the practical but softening feminine influence they’d be lost without.
“I’ll call my sister, but not for you.” Lachlan stood, keeping his tone neutral. “I have no problem with you dating Arrochar, but while you are in chef whites under this roof, you are my employee. I’d prefer you maintain that distinction at all times.”
Guy couldn’t hide his frown, but he gave Lachlan a jerk of his chin and muttered a “yes, sir” that sounded anything but deferential.
Lachlan let it go and waited for the chef to leave his office before calling his sister.
When she didn’t answer on his third try an hour later, Lachlan’s concern became an anxious tug in his gut. Arrochar rarely didn’t answer her phone, and she always called back.
As a forest engineer for Forestry and Land Scotland, Arro’s current task kept her close to home at Blairnie Forest. They were timber harvesting, and it was Arrochar’s job to plan every aspect of the process. While she worked mostly in an office, he knew she was currently in the field to implement solutions to some logistical problems they’d had with equipment and loading.
Her worksite was only a thirty-minute drive from the castle. Lachlan checked his watch, noted his sister would most likely still be on-site, and decided to find her for himself. It was a good distraction from a certain American consuming his thoughts. Or the fact that he hadn’t seen Mac since he’d slept with his best friend’s daughter.
That sounds very wrong.
“Damn the man for having a kid at sixteen and making it weird for everybody,” he muttered dryly as he left his office.
Stopping in at security, he informed Jock where he’d be.
“All right, sir,” Jock replied. “A quick update, though. Our geofence disabled a drone. McHugh has gone out to collect it.”
The news irritated and concerned Lachlan. “The paparazzi already? They usually hold off until summer.”
“Could just be a local who got too close to our perimeter.”
“Or our little problem is trying to find a new way to scope out the estate.” He referred to his stalker and the fact that the estate’s security system was no longer vulnerable to the hacker.
“I wouldn’t assume so, sir. It’s an isolated incident. We’ll check the drone for prints and keep you posted.”
Grateful for the efficient team Mac had put together, Lachlan thanked Jock and moved to leave when the guard said his name again. He glanced over his shoulder. Jock looked a little uncomfortable.
“Mr. Galbraith was here earlier this morning. When our system detected the drone.”
“And?”
“He inferred that he would be returning to work this week.” Jock winced, clearly hating the position he’d been put in.
Lachlan tried not to show his agitation at his friend’s restless impatience. “I’ll have a word with him upon my return.”
The security deputy seemed relieved.
Not looking forward to a discussion about postponing Mac’s return to work, Lachlan threw the thought out of his head for now and jumped into the Range Rover Fergus had brought around from the mews.
The thirty-minute drive to Blairnie Forest passed in a blur as Lachlan veered between concern for his sister and wondering if he should visit Robyn or give her time to adjust to their affair.
He liked to think of himself as a fairly patient man, but she brought out this fervent covetousness. With her, he was greedy to the point of craving.
Definitely a bloody addiction.
Turning off at the site Arro told him she was working from, he noted the parked cars of the site crew and the fact that Arro’s Defender wasn’t there. Seeing her colleague Marcello, a project manager, Lachlan got out of his vehicle. The Italian spotted him and moved away from the two colleagues in construction hats to meet him halfway.
“Lachlan.” Marcello held out his hand in greeting. “Good to see you.”
The Italian wasn’t just a coworker of Arro’s; he was a friend and had been invited to a few family dinners with his fiancée in the past. They had a young daughter who regularly played with Lachlan’s niece, Eilidh.
“You too. I hope you’re well.”
“Fine, fine. Is all okay with Arro?”
Lachlan stiffened at the question. “That’s what I came to find out.” He gestured to the site.
“Oh.” Marcello frowned. “She called in sick two days running. Said she had food poisoning.”
Scowling at this news, he replied, “I better check on her.”
Marcello’s brows drew together. “Tell her I’m asking for her. It’s not like her. I’ve seen Arro try to work through flu.”
It was true. His sister was always on the go, driven by a need to be useful, and she despised being ill to the point where she would deny it until her family stepped in to force her to take care of herself.
Bidding the manager goodbye, Lachlan jumped into his SUV and tried not to race to her house.
Something was wrong. He felt it in his gut.
Arro’s home was a midcentury bungalow on the northern outskirts of Ardnoch. He’d offered her Adair land to build a home on, just as he’d offered his brothers, but Arro and their youngest brothers were holding out on their dream homes until they were ready to settle down. He’d teased Arro about the house she’d bought with her inheritance. In a quiet, nice neighborhood, the bungalow wasn’t exactly fashionable. However, it was spacious enough for her library of books and the collection of inherited family objects Lachlan granted her permission to remove from the castle. Plus, she was surrounded by good neighbors. That’s all his sister cared about. To be surrounded by family and friends. And books. Lots of them.