Page 11 of His to Keep (Reluctant Vows #6)

G io

Watching Eilidh browsing through the magazines in the little shop at the railway station makes me smile.

Even from a distance, I can see the crease at the bridge of her nose.

Her lips are pursed as if she’s pouring every ounce of concentration she can muster into weighing the pros and cons of each publication.

I gave her the prepaid credit card Danny gave me.

It only has a couple of hundred pounds loaded onto it, but it’s not as if we’ll have much opportunity to spend it on the train.

The advantage of the card is that it can’t be traced back to me.

I told Eilidh to spend whatever she wants, but rather than gathering up an armful of magazines, she seems to be agonizing over which to buy.

“Your girl’s resilient.” The admiration in Danny’s voice is clear. “But nobody lives through what she has and comes out unscathed. Right now, she’s running on adrenaline or some shit, but eventually she’ll crash.”

“I know,” I reply tightly. The same thought has occurred to me.

So far, Eilidh seems to be taking the change in her circumstances in stride, but I don’t trust her apparent calm.

While I don’t doubt she has remarkable inner strength, I fear she’s putting on a show.

When she does crash, I’ll be there to help her pick up the pieces.

Danny claps me on the shoulder, a hint of approval I haven’t seen from him before now. “Your train’s about to board. I think it’s safe to leave you.”

He didn’t really need to accompany us at all.

The drive to the station was uneventful and since we arrived ten minutes ago, there hasn’t been any sign we’re being watched.

We’ve been careful to shield our faces from the security cameras that are everywhere, but it seems like Eilidh’s plan to catch the sleeper train is going to work.

She was right that nobody would expect it.

We’ve had a report of Barevsky heading to New York with several men, and Henry’s people have been spotted at the main Scottish airports and ferry terminals.

“You’ll be met when you get to London,” Danny says. “Niamh will message you with the details.”

“Thanks.” I offer him my hand and he shakes it. “For everything.”

Danny nods and walks off just as Eilidh emerges from the shop with a couple of fashion magazines.

“He didn’t say goodbye.” She pouts as she watches Danny leaving the station.

“I don’t think he’s the type for long farewells.” I motion to the magazines she has in her hand. “You got everything you want?”

“Yes, I thought it would be fun to see what the cool kids are wearing these days.”

“I’ll buy you a new wardrobe when we get to Italy.”

“I should probably raise some feminist objection, but I have to admit it will be nice to get some new clothes.”

“You’ll need them for your new life.”

“Ah, yes. If I’m going to be a mob wife, I’d better look the part.” Eilidh twists her lips into a sardonic grin. “I’m thinking lots of leopard print and leather.”

“I don’t know which mob wives you’ve met, but the women in my family tend to go for something more sophisticated.”

“Are there a lot of women in your family?” Eilidh asks.

“More than I can count.” My aunts and cousins of varying degrees of closeness must number in the hundreds. “I was thinking specifically of my sister and my brothers’ wives.”

“And do these sophisticated women think it’s okay for you to act like a caveman and carry me off to be married?”

I shrug. “I don’t think they know about the plan. One of my brothers might have said something to them, but I’ve not spoken to any of the women since I came to Scotland.”

Eilidh looks up at me, her dark, soulful eyes studying me carefully. “So, they don’t know why you came here?”

“I didn’t come for you.” Is it my imagination or does hurt flicker across her face? “I came to bag some Munros.”

Eilidh huffs out a disbelieving breath. “You’re a hill climber?”

“I was trying to be. Ever since I was a kid, I dreamed about tackling the highest peaks in Scotland, but after…” I trail off mid-sentence.

Until Eilidh is more settled and accepts her future role as my wife, I don’t want to tell her about the shooting that landed me in the hospital for several weeks.

It might spook her to think, despite my promises to protect her, I couldn’t even keep myself safe.

“After what?” Eilidh asks.

“Nothing.”

To my surprise, she lets the topic go. Perhaps she’ll use this as currency when she doesn’t want to share a part of her past with me. She’ll remind me that I too have secrets I don’t feel comfortable divulging.

“Munro bagging is a strange thing for a Mafia prince to dream of doing,” Eilidh muses.

“You’re not the first person to think that.”

My brothers flat out told me I was crazy for wanting to cross the Atlantic to explore the Scottish countryside and push myself to the limits by climbing the country’s highest mountains.

They didn’t understand that I’d gotten the image in my head when I was a kid, and it had embedded itself so deeply inside me I couldn’t settle until I’d made it a reality.

“Hmm, each to their own,” Eilidh says. “I used to dream of spending time on a ranch in Wyoming or somewhere like that.”

“You still want to do that?”

We scan the tickets Danny procured for us and pass through the security barrier without incident.

“No.” Eilidh smiles sadly. “I grew out of it.”

“Well, if you change your mind, I can make it happen.”

My offer doesn’t please her for some reason. She flashes me a scowl and then changes the subject.

“We’re in Room 6 in Coach B.” Eilidh leads the way, walking along the platform until she comes to the correct carriage.

She boards the train ahead of me and quickly locates our room.

The door is open, so she walks right in and drops the magazines onto the small table under the window. “Well, this is it. Home sweet…”

As she spins around, Eilidh stops dead. Her lip trembles with undisguised mirth as I duck my head to get through the door.

Then she bursts into gleeful giggles. I don’t have to ask her why she’s laughing because I feel ridiculous in this compact room.

The ceiling is a mere two inches above my head, and there’s barely any space for me to turn around.

The bunk beds aren’t designed to accommodate a man of my height.

I open the door to my left and find a bathroom I know I’ll struggle to use.

“This isn’t funny,” I gripe as Eilidh laughs.

“It kind of is. You look like a giant.”

Despite the scowl I send her, I like her unbridled glee.

Happy Eilidh is a woman I could quickly grow to love.

Abandoning that thought, I sit on the edge of the bed and try to make these accommodations work for me.

I have to lean forward to avoid hitting my head on the upper bunk.

Tonight won’t be comfortable for me. When I was shot, I sustained a leg injury.

While it’s mostly healed, I do still suffer frequently from cramps and there is no room on this bed for me to stretch it out.

“This isn’t going to work,” I grumble. “I’ll never get to sleep.”

My brothers seem able to exist on a couple of hours’ slumber each night, but I need to get a proper rest. Eilidh comes to stand in front of me. She isn’t laughing anymore. Instead, she regards me with a look of concern.

“Tell you what.” She waves the prepaid credit card in front of my face and then slips it into her jacket pocket. “Let me buy you some dinner and a drink. Think of it as a first date.”

I am hungry and it didn’t even occur to me to buy supplies for the trip. My focus was on ensuring we got here safely. “You think train food is any good?”

“I think it’s food and my stomach needs it.” Eilidh puts her hands on her hips and gives me a stern glare. “You’re not a food snob, are you?”

“I ate that microwave lasagna for lunch.” It was a real test of endurance because that meal was foul.

The minced beef was hard, like tiny pellets of rabbit food, and the béchamel sauce was thick enough to plaster a wall.

I could almost hear my Italian forebears screaming at me not to take another bite.

“Yes, and I saw how much that pained you.” She grabs my hands and tries to tug me to my feet. She isn’t strong enough to pull me up, but I oblige her by standing. “If the food’s really bad, we can drown out the flavor with a drink or two.”

“Sounds good,” I say, even though I’m doubtful about the quality of the food. “I’ve never been on a date.”

“Me neither,” Eilidh says, “but for a very different reason, I guess.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I haven’t had the opportunity to date, what with the captivity and all, and you’re the type of man who picks up a girl at a club, bangs her in the bathroom, and doesn’t even ask her name.”

Fuck, that stings. Although her assessment is accurate, hearing it makes me wince.

I don’t want Eilidh to see me as some sort of man whore.

Treating women as disposable is one of my past crimes, but it’s something the man I want to leave behind would do.

Besides Eilidh, I haven’t fucked a single woman since I came to Scotland and it’s not because of lack of opportunity.

“That’s not me anymore, kitten. When we’re married, I won’t even glance at another woman.

” My resolute tone doesn’t convince Eilidh.

A skeptical expression forms on her face, but I won’t try to persuade her I’ll be faithful.

That’s something I intend to prove to her through my actions.

“Now, didn’t you say you’d buy me dinner? ”

“Yes, I did.”

Eilidh stumbles into me as the train suddenly lurches forward. I steady her and then let my hand trail down her back before releasing her. She said she was hungry, and this room really isn’t set up for sexual shenanigans, so I put all thoughts of ravishing her to one side.

“Can we lock the door?” I look around for a key.