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“That’s impossible.” Suspicion clouded the clear cognac hue of her eyes. “You know every move he makes.”
“That was only when he tried to make them with you.”
She bristled. “He never tried to make them with me.”
“You never realized it.”
“Which brings us back to why it’s impossible for you not to know what he’s up to.”
“Not exactly.” Grae smoothed the back of his hand across the dark shadow of whiskers on his cheek. “The moves you make are no longer any of my business, are they?”
The outright question put Tielle in her seat, yet she managed to make the move appear graceful enough.
“Faro says he wants to book the estate exclusively for one week. He wants to hold a Clegg family retreat.” She shared the explanation politely enough. Admirably, she subdued the wound his words had opened. She wanted to maintain eye contact. Sadly, all she could focus on, as Grae sat there stroking his jaw, was his sleek beard, which added an intimidation factor and needed no additional emphasis.
Those inky whiskers contrasted so richly against an otherwise flawless palette of light caramel. They felt like mink against her skin when he kissed her…wherever he kissed her—used to kiss her…
“He told you what prompted such a great idea?” he asked.
“Well, I don’t know, Grae. Maybe he thinks he can fix your family.” With a laugh, she stood and left the desk. Silently, she reiterated the conversation she’d just had with Faro. “I’m pretty sure a fast no is the right answer here. Listen, Grae, I have a meeting I’m already late for.” Hastily, she rounded the desk and began collecting her things.
Grae was blocking her way before Tielle even moved from the desk, causing her to swallow around her heart in her throat.
“I’d like for you not to do that, Tel.”
The urgency in the canyon depth of his voice gave Tielle pause. “Tell me why?” It was her chance to mask command in the form of a question.
Grae clenched his jaw, revealing the defeat he felt. “I honestly don’t know, Tel, but going through with this thing might bring it all out.”
Tielle dismissed the voice warning her not to ask and asked anyway. “Can’t Faro want to retreat for exactly what retreats are meant for? To fix things?”
Graedon smiled, but the gesture held no humor and very little softness. “Still blind when it comes to my brother,” he accused.
“So are you.” She smiled and shrugged. “I guess we’re a perfect pair then.”
“We used to be.” A more pronounced element filtered the bronze of his stare.
“Is it refusal or acceptance you want, Grae?”
When he smiled, Tielle wondered if he was confused about what she should have been refusing or accepting.
“Acceptance.”
Confusion crept in on her then. He was frowning in that way he did when seeking to relay the importance of what he was saying. Tielle refused to get lost in his very capable ability to spellbind her.
“Why would you want me to accept Faro’s request? Wouldn’t that make him a little too happy?”
“May be the only way to get to the bottom of what he’s really up to.”
“Grae…” Tielle rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “What does all this suspicion get you?”
“Not nearly as much as it’s lost me.”
“And yet you continue to pursue it.”
His jaw clenched again. “I pursue it so that I can crush it.”
A soft spurt of laughter rippled past her lips.
“What?” His eyes raked the length of her, focusing on Tielle’s bottom when she turned away.
She set her meeting materials back on the desk. “Just that your…pursuit might be self-defeating, is all.”
“Okay,” Grae prompted.
“It didn’t lose you anything. You did.”
Grae bowed his head and shook it as though he wasn’t surprised by her point of view. “He’s not what you think, Tel. He never has been.”
“It must be so sad to live your life only seeing the worst in everyone.”
“Not everyone, Tel. Just him.”
When she turned away with a submissive sigh, Grae came down off some of his anger. “Tel—”
