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“Did the DuPonts finally confirm for how long you’d be able to see Harriet today?”
My lips twitch as I desperately try to kill the smile threatening to escape.
The sneaky man knows the one way to ensure I won’t be able to ignore him is to mention the fact that I’m seeing Harriet today. I’d messaged Faith DuPont as soon as we knew we’d be going to New York today.
“Yes, they said from three till bath time,” I hesitate but can’t resist adding. “Which is a long time compared to usual. I might be able to take her somewhere besides the park near the house.”
“Of course, you’ll have a car and a driver at your disposal when we get to New York, so it won’t be a problem.”
“Thanks.” My face settles back into a cool mask. I’m otherwise not ready to speak to him just yet.
“When did you last get to visit her?”
He’s really going for it, isn’t he?
I watch as he takes the seat directly opposite mine. Seriously?
“Ryan?”
“I know you didn’t have time to buy anything with the unplanned visit, but I thought you might want to get her a few things. What do you think she’d like?”
“Ryan?”
“Yes?”
“What are you doing?”
“Is it not obvious? I’m trying to apologize to you.”
“For what?” I scoff. “Shouldn’t I be the one apologizing for trespassing and desecrating your ‘inner sanctum’?” I finish in air quotes.
He raises a single eyebrow. “Alright.” He leans back. “Go on then, apologize.”
“Are you kidding me?” I almost yell. “You roared at me like a freaking monster because I went into an unlocked room, and you expect me to say sorry?”
“You were in my bedroom!”
“I went into an unlocked room in my house! I live there, Ryan. I appreciate you may have many other homes, but that place is the only home I have on earth right now, and you made me feel like an unwanted guest.”
“You’re right. Like I said, I’m trying—”
“To apologize, but all you’ve done is talk,” I wave my hand in a gesture of impatience. “I haven’t actually seen you do it yet.”
A muscle jerks in his jaw, and he takes a breath, releasing it slowly.
“I agree, I was unfair. I may have overreacted.”
Some of the tension leaves my spine, and I cross my legs. “Go on.”
He leans forward and palms my knee, rubbing circles around it.
“I’m sorry,” he rumbles.
My lids flutter shut. God, I love the sound of that. His hands on me make it even better.
He reaches down and takes off one of my shoes, then lifts my foot onto his abs. Ah, a foot rub too, yes please.
I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take some ownership of my actions, too.
