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He freezes, then peers over his shoulder. “What?”
“Why’re you angry?”
He blinks. Suddenly, I realize I might have miscalculated. There’s no anger in his tone, just a creeping, deep-rooted sadness he’s hiding behind sharp tones.
“Never mind,” I say hastily.
However, he doesn’t move, and I realize I’m still holding his wrist.
Blushing, I let go.
He slows down considerably. Before I know it, he’s handing me the keys.
“I’ve informed Ray. He’s the housekeeper. He also has your number, and he’ll contact you before showing up. You need anything, you give me a call.”
He’s standing near the doorway now, his posture screaming he desperately wants to leave.
It’s this place, I realize. He hates this place.
However, I have things to say, and I don’t want him to leave until I’ve said them.
Taking a deep breath, I meet his gaze, a depth of emotion in my eyes. “You didn’t have to do any of this, you know.”
“I know,” he says simply.
“I’m not entirely ill mannered,” I say with a faint smile. “I do appreciate this. Not just to you for letting me stay here, but also for your company. It kind of calmed me down.”
There’s a teasing glint in his eyes now. “I have that effect on people.”
My smile matches his. His eyes drop to my lips, and I feel my heartbeat pick up when he takes a step toward me.
Is he going to kiss me?
Do I want him to?
The effort it takes him to rips his attention away from my slightly parted lips is evident, and there is slight regret and want in his eyes. But he steps back. “Sleep well, Lana. I’ll pick you up in the morning.”
My car is still at the office.
I watch him leave, and I can’t get past the staggering sense of loss.
My complicated feelings for this man who runs hot and cold, who’s snarling one moment and then so unbearably kind I melt at his feet, are growing and evolving. I’ve never felt like this, so out of control.
And it makes it worse that while Oliver isn’t hiding his interest in me, his desire for more, he refuses to push me. It just makes me stumble, trying to sort through my own head.
I’d walked into his office, determined to hate the man who would be the one to unravel the company, punishing employees for the past CEO’s deeds, and my determination to despise him changed into intrigue and annoyance, which, along the way, evolved into desire and confusion.
I want him, yet I’m scared of so many obstacles: my job, my family, myself.
I busy myself with unpacking. As I’m putting on a T-shirt to sleep in, I glimpse a photo of a smiling redheaded woman tucked on the dressing table, just barely out of sight.
Lifting it, I study her pretty features. She’s stunning, and I realize who she is.
Holding the frame in my hand, I sink onto the soft bed, staring at it.
Nyla Thornton.
She’s smiling at the photographer, delight in her eyes, and I wonder why someone whose husband seemed to cherish her so much chose to abandon him.
