Luther laughed a deep, rich sound as he chewed his food and wiped his mouth. "I have found that what women really like is the strong, silent type. Plus, Ms. Kitty already told me how much she enjoys a nice, big piece of dark chocolate. I'm just patiently waiting for my invitation."
John laughed, dimples flashing in his darkly tanned face before he flipped off the men. Taking another sip of coffee, the Brit said, "You know you are talking about the future Mrs. Kenric. I don't think you want to piss her off. It's not pretty, trust me."
"Aye we know. Your precious kitten can be quite the hell cat, mate. So how long before the wedding?" Duff asked seriously. In the thirty plus years he had known John, the man had never mentioned taking a wife; that was until the American doctor came along.
"I'm not sure, but it will be in the very near future," John replied in a matter of fact tone. "I'm already working on getting her added to my financial accounts. She is to have access to everything I own, gentlemen. Kitten is to be denied nothing. Do I make myself clear?"
"Shouldn't you ask Gillian what she thinks of marriage first, mate?" Patrick said, taking a drink of his tea. "I don't think she would appreciate you, alone, making plans about her future. Have you mentioned marriage to her at all?"
"No, I haven't, but she's my soul mate, Pat. I feel it—have from the moment I met her. I know we haven't known each other long, but I plan on spending the rest of my life with kitten. Getting married is just a formality so she will have my last name. Speaking of kitten, she only leaves the manor if she is with one of us four. Duff and Luke, if you take her out, she goes only where I say she can. Any changes in the schedule go through me. Understand?"
"And what if Gillian doesn't like your rules, Johnny?" Duff asked, internally rolling his eyes. John's rules were not going to sit well with the American.
"I'll deal with kitten," John replied, his tone dark and deadly.
"Johnny, you're being absolutely ridiculous!" Patrick laughed derisively. "You know Gillian is just as safe with Duff and Luther as she is with us. She's going to feel like you're holding her hostage, mate. She's not used to being told what to do and when to do it! Gillian is going to be your wife, boyo, not your servant. Maybe if you talk to her first—"
"I know who the fuck she is, Patty!" John interrupted, slamming his fist down on the table, "Why do you think I'm going to such great lengths to protect her? I fucking love kitten, and if I lost her, well, that's not going to happen. And why, you ask? Because everyone in this fucking room will be following the same set of rules!"
Suddenly losing his appetite, the handsome Irishman pushed his plate away. "Fine, Johnny. You want to fuck things up with Gillian, mate, then fuck them up. I'll do as you ask because you're my brother, but I'll be damned if you dictate where I take her and what we do. I have not now, nor will I ever, ask you for permission to do a fucking thing!"
"You will when it pertains to kitten, Patty," John replied seriously, his eyes not leaving the Irishman's. "You and I are going to have to establish some ground rules, privately."
"Fuck your ground rules, mate!" Patrick yelled as he shoved his chair back and stood up. "You can't dangle Gillian in front of me and not expect me to want her! I think we should let her decide what type of relationship she wants with me!"
"And if kitten doesn't want a relationship with you, Pat?" John asked, intentionally trying to piss the Irishman off.
"Duff, you and Luther can sit here and listen to this shit if you want. I've got work to do," Patrick replied coldly, running a large, scarred hand through his wheat blond hair before turning and heading toward the door.
"Patrick, don't leave, mate," Duff began, but before he could finish the words, the door was slamming shut. Turning to John, the Scottish man said, "Why did you want to piss him off, Johnny? You know as well as I do that Pat is going to continue a relationship with Gillian."
"My issues with Patrick are none of your concern, Duff," John responded coldly, his eyes darkening as they looked at the Scottish man. "Now, before Tania arrives, let's discuss the next few days. Luther, you will be joining Pat and me on a business trip to Berlin. Duff, you will be staying here with kitten. She doesn't leave your side, even for a minute. If you leave the manor, there will be a team of guards surrounding the both of you. Again, kitten goes nowhere unless I give the green light."
"Even though I think you are making a fucking mistake, Johnny, you know you can count on me," Duff said, pushing away his empty plate as well. "I don't understand, though, why you are leaving Gillian right after getting her back. Think she'll agree to you leaving?"
"I'll handle kitten, Duff," John replied, drinking the rest of his coffee as he noticed Tania entering his office. "You just keep the woman I love safe. She's everything to me, mate. Don't fuck this up. Now, gentlemen, if you will excuse me, I have meetings to schedule with Tania."
Duff and Luther glanced at each other as they stood up to leave. Damn, the Brit was a stubborn bastard. They knew John was making a mistake, but if there was anyone who could change John for the better, it was the feisty American. They just hoped she was up for the job.
Chapter 3
Gillian ran along the English seaside cliffs as she listened to the pulsing metal music in her earbuds. The early November morning air was bitterly cold and crisp, but she didn't feel it. Her mind was too busy racing to focus on the falling temperatures outside. She needed this morning jog because she was going crazy being cooped up in Kenric Manor. Duff had rejected her request to run, but he had been called out to deal with a security issue downtown, so Gillian had taken advantage of the moment. She knew she was being followed by a handful of guards, but the American had no intention of leaving Kenric property.
Gillian's mind immediately drifted to John as she passed an old, stone lighthouse. She missed him terribly and was anxiously awaiting his return home. John had been gone for the past three days on business, but she had talked to him via phone and video often. Each time they spoke, he expressed his love and affection for her. Gillian was also happy to wake up each morning to a bedroom full of roses. Patrick had even called her multiple times in the past three days, and she was discovering how sweet and wonderful the Irishman could be. Gillian was also healing well, and her bruises looked much worse than they felt. Dutch had put together a mixture of creams, ice packs, and injections that had her almost feeling back to normal. She couldn't really complain about anything, except the fact that she felt bored, isolated, and alone.
With a loud sigh, she turned up her music and headed back toward the manor. John had explained to her that he hated being away from her, but that he could not be near her without being inside of her. While she understood his reasoning, she wished that he hadn't left. Truth be told, she wanted to talk about what had happened with Galen and how she felt, knowing that he was dead. Gillian was glad he was no longer a threat to her, but she didn't like knowing that he had died because of her. The one time she had attempted to bring Galen up to John, he had changed the subject and blamed himself. Gillian didn't blame the Brit for anything that had occurred and was grateful for him saving her life, but how could she get him to see that? She was learning that John was not much of a communicator, and that would have to change. After all, Gillian loved him and was in this for the long haul, but John was going to have to learn how to express his feelings in a therapeutic way and not just sexually.