I kick off the island, the stool slipping out from under me. The grip on my wrist releases, my mind blessedly my own again as I hit the floor. My arms bear the brunt of the fall, bruises blossoming along my forearms.
“Shit. Are you okay?” The threat drains out of his stance faster than water through a sieve, but the effects linger.
“Stay away from me,” I choke out.
Did he actually take anything? Would I even know?
“I’m sorry for scaring you.” I flinch as he crosses the barrier the island provided. He stops a few feet away, righting the stool but keeping his distance. “Last night, I came to a conclusion: if I can’t trust you, I’ll have to make you harmless instead.”
The worst part is that I get it. Wouldn’t I do the same to protect my brother? Would I do worse?
“Do we have an understanding?” he asks, and I nod. I hate the fear that sticks in the back of my throat, but I have to respect the ruthlessness that put it there. “Good girl.”
I study his fingers. Like musician’s hands, they are finely boned and flexible. Faint white scars spread like lightning along his skin. A few are red, broad, and raised as if they had been branded there. How many of them belong to me? A shiver races up my spine.
“I’ll protect you too, Kaye.” His voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
“You can’t protect me from yourself.”
The tips of his middle and ring fingers twitch once in the stillness between us. His palm is warm and dry against mine. My fingers tremble, and I almost pull away. Then his strong grasp tightens and he pulls me to my feet.
“Are you hurt?”
I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak.
A thick, dark eyebrow raises over the contours of the glasses rim. “In that case, I have some gifts for you. I probably should have asked earlier—what’s your position on bribery?”
I sigh. “Charade.”
“I meant to say that I would neverdreamof bribing you, Checkmate.”
I follow him back upstairs and have just pulled open the door to my room when a lightning-fast shape darts past, arms full of bags and trailing scents of gardenia and sage.
“What—” My mind stalls mid-thought as a striking older woman turns to face us. Salt-and-pepper curls frame a warm, sculptured face down to the tops of her shoulders. A rosy hue just brushes the tops of her cheeks, and her eyes are dark and kind. The resemblance to her daughter is uncanny.
“Hello.” Her voice is deep and melodic.
“Hi.” I wrap my arms around myself. “I’m Kaye.”
I don’t have time to react before her arms wrap me in a hug. It’s odd, but nice. I can’t remember the last time someone hugged me. Then she squeezes tighter, taking the breath from my lungs.
“I’m not really much of a hugger,” I choke out.
“I’m sorry, dear. You look like you could use it.” The pressure withdraws and she shifts instead to clutching my hands. “I’m Angela Pancost.”
Laugh lines grace the skin around her dimpled cheeks and crinkling eyes. Her frame fills out more in her jeans and long-sleeve T-shirt, but I can tell by just the strength in her arms how fit she is.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, but—” I gesture to the mountain of paper parcels on the bed. “What is all this?”
“Don’t you worry. I’ll help you put everything away. I actually miss doing these kinds of things with my kids.” Her eyes land on Charade where he leans against the doorframe.
He leans in. “You can rearrange everything once she’s gone.”
“This is for me?” I run my fingers over a sizable white and black striped bag with an elegant gold script. Hidden within layers of black tissue paper, I can just make out the hint of delicate lace detailing.
“It’s just some essentials for now.” He smirks. “I wasn’t sure what else you would need.”
“You callthisessential?” I reach into another bag, only to pull out something with the fullest lavender tulle skirt I have ever seen.
