Determined that when Fran died, he wouldn’t crumble like his own father had, he’d poured every ounce of his soul into fatherhood. Thane had thought he was doing not too bad a job, but the ordeal with Lucy, perhaps his handling of it, seemed to remind Lewis of loss. Not for him—Lew had never really taken to Lucy (Thane should have seen that as a warning sign)—but for his wee sister who’d thought the actress hung the moon and the sun. Thane was only grateful that his daughter was resilient and had been quick to transfer her affection to Regan.
“I don’t want you to think that,” Thane whispered, lying down beside Lewis to tuck him into his arms. He burrowed into his dad, and Thane held him tighter. “Not everyone leaves, Lew. I’m not going anywhere. Neither is Uncle Lachlan or Aunt Arrochar, or Aunt Robyn and Uncle Mac.” He didn’t mention Brodan or Arran. They’d grown too unpredictable for him to make any promises on their behalf. The reminder agitated him.
“What about Ree-Ree? She’s Aunt Robyn’s sister. Why can’t she stay?”
Thane exhaled slowly, feeling the loss of her already. “Because she’s young, Lew. She’s got her whole life ahead of her. She needs to go off and experience the world a bit before she settles down. Not to mention, her parents live in America. Her life is back there.”
And there it was.
The truth.
No matter her attraction to him, Thane knew that no twenty-five-year-old would want to settle down in a remote Scottish village with a man thirteen years her senior and play mum to his two children. Christ, Fran hadn’t wanted it, and she’d chosen it.
“I want her to stay,” Lewis whispered sadly.
“I know, buddy. But try not to think about her leaving. It’s not for a while yet. And she’s here now. Just enjoy having her with us for now, okay?”
Lewis nodded, but Thane knew he didn’t understand. How could he? All he knew was that a woman he cared about because she so obviously cared about him was temporary. And that made little sense to a boy who was raised on the belief that his mother loved him and hadn’t wanted to leave him and if it had been up to her, she never would have.
Knowing his son was going to take Regan’s leaving as proof she didn’t love him, Thane squeezed his eyes closed, tightened his hold on Lewis, and stayed with him until he fell asleep.
However, the longer he lay there, the more he stewed. Lewis wouldn’t have fallen asleep with tears in his eyes if Regan had treated Thane with civility and professionalism tonight. Yes, he’d been a prick at Morag’s, and he’d admit it, but she couldn’t act like that around the kids. They were too perceptive, and she should know that by now.
Unfortunately for her, when he came downstairs, she was still there.
Heat licked through him at the sight of her in her prim little dress with its not-so-prim fucking hemline. As she bent over to load the last of the dishes into the dishwasher, he caught a flash of her arse. Sadly, the thick tights she wore covered it.
She stood and shut the washer, not looking at him as she wiped down the sink. “I had a hard time getting the flour out of the couch. I don’t know how it got over there. But I got it. I cleaned everything up.” Regan threw down a dish towel and grabbed her purse off the stool at the island. “I’ll see you Monday.” Finally, she looked at him as he refused to move from her path.
Her eyes widened at whatever she read in his expression. “Are the kids okay? You were up there awhile.”
Seething, he licked his lips and took his time so he didn’t lash out at her. “You cannot give me the cold shoulder in front of the children.”
Regan narrowed her pretty eyes. “I didn’t.”
“You did. Lewis picked up on it.”
Guilt flickered across her features. “Is he okay?”
“No.” Thane took a step toward her and another as she retreated. “He’s worried about you leaving.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yet. He needs to be prepared that you’ll eventually leave. But until then,” he said, bowing his head toward her as the island forced her to stop, “I expect a civil tongue.” His gaze dipped to her mouth, and his hands clenched at his sides. “In a civil mouth … from now on. At least in front of them.”
She jutted her chin stubbornly. “Does that mean you’re going to stop acting like a crazy person?”
“Excuse me?” he bit out.
“You … did we or did we not have a discussion this morning that cleared the air, only for you to act like a jealous ass over Jared McCulloch?”
“Just like you were jealous over the idea of me sleeping with Keelie.”
She grimaced. “And round we go again. Just admit that Keelie was a ploy. You were never going to sleep with her. You’re too much of a gentleman.”
The damn woman had a way of pushing him to the boiling point with very little effort. And for some reason, it pricked his damn male pride that Regan saw him as some buttoned-up, controlled, gentlemanly figure. If only she knew.
He leaned into her, their mouths almost touching, and she inhaled sharply. “How do you know I didn’t sleep with her? A man has needs.”
Hurt flickered in her eyes, but she buried it beneath fire. That he could deal with. She pushed against his chest to move him, but he pressed deeper into her personal space.
“Did you sleep with her?” she demanded.
“No,” he immediately admitted.
Satisfaction lit her expression, and then something more dangerous. “No, because sleeping with any woman would just be an attempt to screw away your problem.”
“And what problem is that?” he asked gruffly, heat pooling in his groin.
“That you can’t stop thinking about me,” Regan whispered, lowering her hand from his chest but only so she could move her body into his. He swallowed hard at the feel of her soft curves. Her breathing hitched. “We can go around and around in circles for days, weeks … but it won’t chase this away, Thane. You want me. It isn’t convenient. It’s complicated … but it’s unavoidable.”
“You’re my children’s twenty-five-year-old nanny,” he argued, even though the fight had left him.
“You keep saying that like I’m eighteen.” She reached up to cup his cheek, her fingernails scraping along his beard. “I’m not a child, Thane. I’m a woman. For Christ’s sake, there’s ten years between Robyn and Lachlan, and no one bats an eyelash.”
“It’s different. She’s older,” he said, even as his head bent toward hers. “This is madness.”
“Then let’s just be mad,” she whispered back before pulling his head that last inch down to her mouth.
She kissed him like he was water and she had been thirsty for weeks. Ravenous, deep, wild kisses that ignited his blood. Her hands were just as hungry, searching beneath his sweater. His stomach contracted as her cool fingers caressed his bare skin, and he groaned, losing all control.
He took over the kiss as he wrapped a hand tight around her nape and devoured her, while his other slid down her slender back and under her dress to cup her tight arse. He kissed her harder, reveling in the way she took as good as he gave, her thumbs rubbing his nipples.