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“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“What’s wrong with just wanting to cuddle?”
His arm around my waist tightens, and he tucks me closer into his side, so my chest lies flush against his ribs.
My brows pinch, and I scrutinize his perfect profile. “Are you okay?”
He hesitates for a heartbeat. “Yeah.”
“Did something happen yesterday?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know… Maybe another of your employees got attacked by the police?”
He chuckles, but the sound carries no humor. “It’s nothing like that.”
I crane my neck to get a better view at his face, which is no longer looking so relaxed. A muscle in his jaw tenses and his mouth tightens into a thin line as though whatever he’s keeping from me is terrifying.
My insides twist into knots. If it’s worse than what he did to Dominic or that young police officer, I really don’t want to know.
“I was thinking of asking Tony to take me to Simon’s Pond,” I say.
Roman stiffens. “What for?”
“Inspiration,” I reply. “There’s only so much I can paint around your estate before I run out of ideas. At least when I’m at Simon’s Pond?—”
“No.”
A muscle in my face ticks. “Am I a prisoner?”
“I’ll take you.”
“Aren’t you busy dealing with the cops?” I ask.
“Not today.”
He releases his grip around my waist and eases us both up to sitting. When we’re disentangled, he rises off the bed and walks toward the bathroom without a word.
I stare at his broad back, my teeth worrying at my bottom lip. Shoulders sagging, I run through our entire conversation. Did I say something wrong?
This isn’t like Roman at all.
Maybe I’ve overstayed my welcome. The arrangement was to leave after the portrait. He even got my charges dropped so I could start a new life in a new place with a new identity without fear of being hunted by the law.
Then what did I do?
I announced I was staying. To be another burden.
Oh, shit. How long until he switches up and starts resenting my existence like my mom?
He pauses at the doorway and flashes me a smile. “Are you coming?”
* * *
My concerns disappear during the steamiest shower of my entire existence, where Roman fucks me against the wall. Afterward, I select some clothes from the Gucci trunk that now resides in the dressing room.
Roman tells me to pack some art supplies and disappears through the door. I walk to the pool house, pick up the mahogany box filled with small tubes of oil paint, brushes and all the supplies I need to paint, and gather a small easel and a pair of canvases.
