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Shuffling across the floor on my knees, I lifted the flaps of yet another box a little stunned at was inside.
Jewelry—expensive, beautiful jewelry. I lifted a velvet box and opened the lid, revealing a gorgeous diamond necklace. This had to be sold, there was no way it could be donated, not unless it went to a charity or something.
A hand landed on my shoulder, pulling me from my musings. I glanced over my shoulder to see Alaric. No longer in his workout clothes, he was back in dress pants and a short-sleeved polo. I tapped my earbud to pause my music and scooted in a circle so that I wasn’t facing away from him, being met with a dimpled grin.
“You don’t have to leave today?”
“Is that your way of trying to get rid of me?”
“Yes.”
He gave me a look.
“…no.”
“Good, because you can’t.” He moved his focus to the necklace still in my hand. “Are you keeping that one?”
“Why don’t you give it to Meg’s mom?”
“That woman doesn’t need a single thing from this room. Your father has her well supplied.”
“Are you close?” I asked, placing the pretty piece back in the confines of its box.
“Why don’t you want the necklace?”
“This isn’t my thing,” I replied, not missing the way he’d just deflected my question with one of his own.
“Diamonds aren’t your thing?”
“Diamonds. Shoes. Purses. I’m not into that. That’s all my mother’s prerogative.”
He regraded me silently, no trace of what he was thinking reflected on his too handsome face. “Tell me then, what is your thing? What are you in to?”
I shrugged. “Simple stuff. Horror movies, Chinese food. Pianos. Solitude,” I emphasized the last word.
“What kinds of Chinese food?”
“Um. The normal kind? Lo Mein. General Tso’s.”
“Is that all?” he questioned teasingly.
“I have a hamster. So, I guess those too. I’ve always wanted a dog but could never justify the money for an exclusive breed and my mom would raise hell if I adopted a stray.”
“Are you into warm food?”
“I--what?”
“You’ve been up here for hours. I made lunch. You can continue telling me all about yourself while we eat.”
“That was very smooth of you,” I quipped.
He flashed a boyish smile and offered me his hand, which I eyed as if it were a viper.
“It’s just lunch Catalina,” he implored. “I’m trying to apologize for this morning. You don’t even have to speak to me, but you need to eat something.” He gave me what I took to be his version of puppy-dog eyes.
Withholding a sigh, I gave in and accepted his hand, allowing him to help me up.
He led me to the patio just outside the great room and pulled out a chair for me to sit.
I eyed the food on the table more than a little impressed.
“It’s nothing special. Glazed apricot chicken, white rice and steamed vegetables. If you’d rather have something else, I won’t be offended,” he said, taking the chair opposite of mine.
“No, this looks really good.” I poked at the breast on my plate, finding it tender and still warm. “You did all this yourself?” I asked, taking a bite.
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I’m honestly impressed.” I shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know too many men that are surgeons and five-star chefs.”
“Was that a double compliment, Cat?” He beamed at me from across the table.
“Don’t take it too seriously.”
“Too late. I’ve already committed it to memory.”
I refrained from rolling my eyes, fighting back a smile. “Can I ask you something? Something I really should have asked the other night?”
“You can ask me anything you want, but your question will determine my answer.”
“Whatever that means. What’s the deal with you and my sister?”
“Can you be more specific?”
“For starters you don’t seem all that sad about her death. You’ve made it clear I’m to be a conquest, which comes with a whole list of moral issues. There aren’t any pictures of the two you anywhere in the house.” I ticked off on my fingers. “Should I keep going?”
“I thought you said you wanted to ask me a question?”
“I just did.”
“That wasn’t a question. That was a list of polite accusations.”
Beginning to feel the effects from my fitful night of sleep, I took another bite of rice to keep myself actively engaged. “Is that even a thing? Politely accusing someone of something?”
He gave me a pointed stare. “You just did it.”
“In other words, you’re going to deflect like you usually do.”
My statement was met with a look of confusion. “Is that what you think I do?”
He had to be fucking with me. There was no way a man as intelligent as he came off could not know what he was doing.
“If I respond to your accusations will it change how you feel about us?”
“There is no us.”
“Matter of opinion.”
This man was impossible. “Talking to you is mentally exhausting.”
“Are you saying I annoy you?”
