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13. Suspicions
AS I DRAGGED my feet along the fourth-floor corridor, my heart pounded in my ears. Another rant from Roy? Was he angry and jealous again because I’d merged with Nathan? Did he want me to wear a chastity belt? Lock me up in a nunnery?
An eerie silence lingered in the hallway while I approached Roy’s door. At least he wasn’t shouting at someone. Pain still throbbed in my shoulder after I’d tumbled over the floor during the sparring session with Bruce and Michael, but concern was pounding louder. The door was ajar, and I peeked inside.
“Roy?” I took a timid step inside the room, knocking on the doorframe.
Roy might be an overprotective, dominating man, but his controlling attitude didn’t apply to his room. Documents were scattered around in every possible manner of organisation—in piles, in single sheets overlapping, stuffed into folders, and in crumpled lumps. A jacket was draped over the coffee table, and several books lay open on the chairs and sofa.
“Roy?” The last time I saw him, I’d called him names.
He was crouched on the floor, examining something on the carpet. His face might have been made of marble for all the warmth it radiated. “Someone broke into my room,” he said without acknowledging my presence.
I glanced around. If a thief had come here and messed things around, it’d be hard to tell. “How do you know that?” Annoyance rang in my voice, and I wasn’t going to apologise for it.
He tipped his head up towards me. “My documents have been rearranged.”
I raised a sceptical eyebrow.
His cold mask slipped for a moment, and a quick smile twitched his lips as he gazed around. “Despite what you think of my organised chaos, I do have a strict order for my things. I know when someone goes through them. Also, there’s a partial footprint on the carpet that doesn’t match any of my shoes or those of the cleaners. Thus, someone has entered here and searched for something.”
“What’s missing?”
“Part of the documentation on the Nazis we’ve collected. But I don’t believe that’s what they were looking for.” He scratched his unshaven chin.
I had to focus on the chaos to not think about how that stubble would feel against my skin. “How can you say that?” I stepped further into the room, a wave of nostalgia for the work I’d done with him washing over me. Those days had been quiet but full of life.
“There was nothing interesting or classified in the stolen documents. It was information gathered from the newspapers. Besides, I don’t keep classified documents here.”
“Why take those documents, then?”
“That’s what bothers me.” His shoulders heaved as he exhaled. “Perhaps there was a detail we thought was trivial but wasn’t.”
Well, that wasn’t helpful. Letting out a breath, I stopped in front of him. “What do you want from me?”
He rose, uncoiling his massive body inch by inch. Every ounce of my bravado dissolved. “You still have a copy of my key, haven’t you?”
My mouth hung open. “How can you…I would never search your room, and for what reason? To take some stupid documents I helped prepare? I know those documents backwards. I’m not—”
“Dammit, Kristin.” He thumped a fist on the oak desk, cracking it and causing me to wince. His beast was close to coming out, contained by a thin thread, if the darkening of his eyes and the tips of his fangs making an appearance were any indication. I didn’t want another encounter with his enraged panther. “You always think the worst of me. I didn’t believe, not for one moment, that you were involved. Hell!” He slammed his hands on the table and hunched his shoulders, breathing hard. “I keep forgetting that you consider me a heartless monster. I’d better remember that.”
Anger and pain were the only emotions he managed to express. And passion. When he’d kissed me, his passion had reached my heart and made its home there, a sweet reminder of how he could set my body on fire. But now, sheer hurt radiated from him. And I was the cause of that pain.
With measured steps, I walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I was angry with you after our last conversation, and I jumped to conclusions. I don’t consider you a heartless monster. That’s too dramatic.”
“You can’t lie to me.” He ran a hand over his face and cocked his head towards me. “I felt your emotions. You were scared. Horrified.”
“Well, yes, but while I’d say that you’re impossible, cranky, sometimes unbearable, and stubborn to the point of obtusity, not to mention your—”
“Thank you. I’ll take the heartless monster. It sounds less detailed.”
A soft chuckle escaped me, releasing some of the anxiety coiling in my belly. “That’s fine by me.”
“I suppose there was a ‘but’ at the end of that list?” He straightened, only a few inches from me.
“But I know your heart.” I put a hand on his chest. “Yes, it bothers me that you keep secrets from me. Not because of the secrets themselves, but because they keep us apart. And I wonder how…” I caressed his chest, feeling his temperature rising under my touch. “How Lukas died. But whatever happened, I’m sure that your heart was in the right place.”
“You have doubts. I sense them.”
