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“I bought this house specifically for the view from this room,” he commented instead of diving right in. “It’s my favorite spot.”
“Mine, too,” Caitlyn agreed quietly.
“I figured. This is where I find you most often.” He sipped his wine, rolling it around on his tongue as the easy silence stretched. For once, Caitlyn didn’t seem determined to fill the gap with nervous chatter.
It was nice to sit with no expectations and not worry about his missing memories. His headache eased the longer he watched the waves crash on the shore below.
“Did you have something on your mind?” she blurted out and then sighed. “I mean, other than the regular stuff, like becoming a father and having amnesia and learning to live in civilization again and—”
“Caitlyn.” He touched the rim of his glass to hers in silent apology for the interruption, but he wasn’t really sorry. He liked that she gave him so many opportunities to say her name. “I wanted to have a bottle of wine with you. As you pointed out, if nothing else, we’re a family by default. Nothing wrong with acting like one.”
She didn’t relax. “Except we’re not a family, not really. You were all set to send me on my way until I convinced you to let me stay through the holidays. Then what, Antonio? I need to know what you plan to do.”
Nothing like laying it on the line. Apparently, the easy silence hadn’t been so easy for her. If she wasn’t keen on a social drink, they didn’t have to play nice. Shame. He’d have preferred to have the wine flowing before getting to the reason he’d tracked her down.
But clearly, her ability to read him wasn’t a fluke, as he’d assumed earlier today.
“I’m not sure,” he said carefully. “It’s not January yet and I have a lot to consider. Tell me what you’d like to see happen.”
Her fingers gripped the stem of the wineglass until her nail beds turned white. “That’s difficult to answer.”
Because she didn’t want to come right out and say that on the first of January, she’d take a wire transfer with nine zeros tacked onto the end? “Then, maybe you can answer this for me. Why did you rescue me at Falco so many times today? It was as if you could read the room and tell exactly when I was floundering.”
“Oh, um...” Her eyebrows drew together as her gaze flew to his face, searching it, and unexpected rawness sprang into the depths of her eyes. “I don’t know. It was painfully obvious when you didn’t remember someone. I hated that you were uncertain.”
That rawness—it nearly eviscerated him with its strength. What did it mean? He had no context for it, not with her, not with any woman. And he wanted to know if it signified the same intense desire to explore each other, the way it did in him.
The draw between them grew tighter as he contemplated her. “Obvious?”
“Well, probably not to everyone,” she corrected quickly. “To me anyway. I was, uh...paying attention.”
Her gaze traveled down his body, and she didn’t try to hide it, probably because she had no idea how to play coy. Heat flared in his loins as he became extremely aware of how the lamp highlighted the curves under her clothes. “I never thanked you for paying such close attention. I’m curious, though. What do you hope to gain from helping me?”
“Gain?” She cocked her head, confusion evident. “I’m helping you navigate your life because you need me. You told me so. I want to help.”
“Why?”
“Because I like the fact that you need me!” Her eyelids flew shut and she shook her head. Leaping to her feet, she backed away. “I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Caitlyn.” He’d upset her, and he didn’t like the way it snagged at his gut to be responsible for the distress around her mouth and eyes.
He’d much rather be responsible for the raw intensity he’d glimpsed a moment ago.
When he slid from his chair and approached her, she stood her ground despite the fact that her body was poised to flee.
“Wait,” he murmured. “What did you mean to say?”
She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I meant to say that the children are my first priority.”
No, there was more here, more she didn’t want to say, more she didn’t want him to discover—and that unidentified something called to him.
Instinct alone guided his hand to her chin and he tipped her head up to evaluate her stricken expression. “Mine, too. That’s why I ask these questions. I want to know whether you’re helping me in hopes of a nice payout. Or some other, yet-to-be-determined motive.”
