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“I just realized.” She tried to sound steady. “That I don’t really know you much at all.”

I turned my gaze to her. “You know more than anyone else.”

“Not Rafe.”

“He’s different.”

“Is he?”

My pulse slowed. Something was wrong.

Not jealousy.

Fear.

The kind that made people start asking questions they’d never cared about before.

I dropped my gaze to her hand. “Did Mrs. Reid say something to you?”

My jaw twitched.

“No. She didn’t.”

Her stare never shifted.

Her breathing steadied.

Too steady.

“Vivienne, then?”

Silence.

But her stare was steady.

No.

Not Vivienne.

Something else had reached her first.

“It’s getting late,” she said carefully, glancing at the coffee in front of me. “I was coming to see if you wanted dinner.”

I slowly shook my head. “In a minute.” My voice sounded wrong. “You go ahead.”

“I think I’ll take a bath instead,” she answered and turned around.

“Would you… would you like me to slice some fruit for you?”

She never stopped. Just that slight drag of her foot. “No. I don’t feel like fruit right now.”

She left.

Taking the only warmth in the room with her.

I stared at the doorway for longer than I knew what to do with. Then I reached for the file. Looked up once more. Looked back down. I flipped it open. Read the first line. Nothing. The words refused to settle.

I shoved the file away. One push and I was on my feet, leaving the empty coffee cup and the report behind. Every instinct told me to go after her. To knock. To ask what she’d been hiding. To pull her into my arms until whatever reached her let go.