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Max pulled up to the front of Kane’s beachside house. He opened the car door for me.
“Mr. McKenzie said to make yourself at home. He should be home within the next few hours.”
“Thanks, Max. Can you pop open the trunk and I’ll grab my bag?”
“No need to, I’ll bring it in for you, Ms. Peterson.”
I was about to protest, but he held up his hand as if he knew what I was about to say. “It’s my job.”
“Okay thank you. I’m not used to being waited on. It’s a strange experience.” I smiled at him.
When we got to the front door, Max opened it for me, and I went inside. The last time I was here, I’d mostly been blindfolded or in the bedroom and had had little time to explore or take in the splendor.
I started in the living room. Light tan colored couches sat arranged for conversation, among the off-white walls and paintings. I wondered, briefly, if Kane’s niece, the one who owned the gallery, also picked out the art for his house. Each painting was obviously an original and expertly complimented the next.
While the house was ornate and beautiful. It was also comfortable. The couches were soft, with throw pillows and blankets to keep out the winder chill. The living room had a large fireplace and a stack of freshly cut wood to burn.
I wandered towards the hallway. Max had said that Kane said I should make myself at home, so I would. I was curious to find out more about Kane because he’d always been so reserved when it came to revealing any details about his life prior to me.
I decided I would explore the many rooms upstairs. I wasn’t snooping, I was just trying to find my way around the house I would be staying at for the next while.
I climbed up one of the sets of stairs surrounding the foyer and looked around. There were at least ten rooms to choose from. I decided to work from right to left. The first five or so rooms were beautiful guestrooms with their own bathrooms. Not a speck of dust anywhere. My entire apartment would’ve fitted into each room twice over.
In the middle of the upstairs hallway was a set of double doors. I tried to open them, but they were locked. What was hidden in there? Curiosity got the better of me, and I ran my hand along the top of the door frame and, bingo, I found a key.
I giggled to myself as I put the key in the lock. Locked doors meant stay away, but I would be out of there before Kane came home, and if going in there would give me some insight into his world, then I would look.
Inside the doors was an office. So disappointing. But what had I been expecting to find? A room filled with sex toys and torture devices?
I strode into the room. A beautiful picture window overlooked the ocean, and the entire space was stunning and welcoming. Kane had a large wooden desk that looked like it had been hand made. Seated across from the desk was a low gray couch similar to the one he had at his office at work. Art, mostly landscapes, lined the walls in here as well. It was all very pleasant and homey.
I could get used to living with Kane. Waking up with him. Reading the newspapers with him. Sipping my coffee on the patio and sharing our plans for the day.
I sat on the leather chair behind his desk. The top of the desk was sparse. It had a clock and a calendar and nothing much else; no ornamentation or decoration. There wasn’t anything that would tell me anything I didn’t already know about Kane.
I opened doors and drawers of the desk not sure what I was looking for. Maybe some pictures and mementos. Some hint of what his family was like. There was some paperwork, some stationary but nothing of importance.
“Looking for something?” Kane stood by the door and glared at me. I didn’t blame him for being angry.
“Oh, I—” I started to explain.
“This is my private office, and the doors were locked.” His chocolate eyes bore into me with a different kind of heat. Instead of desire, anger radiated off of him.
Embarrassment heated my cheeks. “I found the key. I’m sorry I was just trying to find out more about you.”
“And what were you trying to find out?” he asked, stalking into the room with his fists clenched at his sides. The fury emanating from him was palpable. I’d really stepped over the line and I was sure my punishment would be severe.
“It’s just you’re always pretty reserved when it comes to talking about your past. I don’t know anything about your family or your life growing up. If I’m going to be living here, I guess I wanted to know more. I don’t know anything about your parents or your siblings.”
