Chapter Thirteen
I rise earlier than usual in the morning, though that has nothing to do with the fact I'm taking Emery home with me today. I cannot be nervous about introducing her to my family because I do not get nervous. But I also don't like being away from home. Although I wake up at three fifty-two, I sneak out of bed so I won't disturb Emery.
She looks so bonnie and sweet when she's sleeping.
After going through my morning ritual, I check my emails on my computer, then check the weather between here and Scotland. Maybe that is a bloody stupid thing to do, and I'm sure Emery would call me uptight for doing that, but it eases the tension inside me and makes me feel as if I have a small measure of control over my life.
It's five a.m. now, and I can't convince myself to wait any longer. Emery can have a nice long nap on the jet, but I need to get out of Colorado. So I wander over to the bed, where she lies on her side, facing away from me, and I sit down behind her. The sheet has slid down to her waist, exposing her naked torso to me, though her arm hides her breasts. A curtain of hair has fallen over her face. I gently slip my fingers under it to lift those hairs away from her cheek and sweep them behind her ear.
How should I wake her? We don't have time for sex, not with the schedule I've arranged for our departure. Since I can't rouse her the way I prefer, instead I slide my hand over her hip and onto her belly. Then I lean in to touch my lips to her throat and drop light kisses on her skin. She always tastes good enough to devour.
Emery moans faintly, stirring just enough to brush her hair against my cheek.
I keep kissing her neck while I inhale the sweet scent of her.
She opens her eyes halfway and wriggles her hips, which makes my long-sleeved shirt brush her skin.
Her lids fly open. "You're dressed."
I trail the backs of my fingers across her belly. "I don't generally board an airplane in the nude."
"Maybe I will."
She laughs, probably because I look stunned. My wife says the most outlandish things, and I can't be certain she won't do what she said. The woman has no shame.
Emery slaps the back of her hand on my chest. "That was a joke. I'm not an exhibitionist." She fingers a button on my shirt. "Unless you want me to exhibit myself for you."
"Not at the moment." I straighten, then smack her erse. "Time to get dressed. We leave for the airport in thirty minutes."
"Thirty—" She springs into a sitting position. "I need a shower and breakfast and—What time is it?"
"Five o'clock. You can freshen up in flight." I rise and flap my hand. "Up, Emery."
Mumbling under her breath, probably cursing at me, she clambers out of bed and reaches for the robe that's draped over the foot. As she pulls it on, she gives me a mulish look. "Just so you know, bossiness at five a.m. does not turn me on. Why the stampede to get outta Dodge?"
"I want to take you home, and I'm not known for dawdling."
She rubs her forehead. "Jeez, Rory, it's still dark out. I need a shower to wake me up and food to keep me from passing out from hunger."
I fist my hands, then stretch my fingers taut. "I will feed you on the jet, which has a full bathroom. A bed too. Please, may we get on the plane quickly?"
"You're super anxious to get home, hey?"
"Aye."
"Why is that?"
Bloody hell. Why cannae the woman just do what I say? I drop onto the foot of the bed, slumping forward, and rest my elbows on my knees. "I've been gone for ten days, the longest period I've ever been away."
Her expression softens, and she sits down beside me. "This seems like more than missing home. What else is bothering you?"
I frown at the floor. "My family is anxious to see you. I convinced them not to meet us at the airport, but they insist on coming to the house tomorrow."
Aye, Lachlan had texted me at midnight to let me know.
"They want to check out the trophy wife," Emery says.
"You are not a trophy."