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Perhaps. I haven’t told Daphne anything, really. She knows nothing about me except what I want her to know. Real honesty might be admitting that I can hardly breathe when she’s standing this close. That goose bumps run up and down my arms when I think of her alone. The dream I had last night. That would be honesty. What I said was a plain truth. I want more than to watch her paint. I want so much more.
It’s painful to ask, when I could take her now. Daphne’s petite. Small enough that if I opened the door, I could have her in my arms and in the back of the SUV with minimal effort. She could not outrun me. If I did, if I gave in to the electricity wiring my nerves, everything would come apart. It would take forever for her to trust me again. It would take so long to make her see.
“Come with me,” I say. Her shoulders shake now with the cold. Daphne looks behind me, into the SUV, and glances up at Logan. This is a different calculation entirely than staying with me in the gallery. I know she made that call minute by minute. She was alive with her fear every second, and part of her loved it. I tasted it on her. Fear. Desire. Relief.
“I—” A door bursts open on the other side of my SUV, wood banging on brick, and Daphne jumps back from the SUV window. “What’s going on?”
I search for an answer, but she’s not asking me. Two men in suits come into the street. “Ms. Morelli,” one of them says.
Daphne’s hand goes to the pocket of her hoodie. She pulls out her phone and frowns at the screen, then shoves it away again. “Is something happening?”
“We need you to come this way.”
“Guys.” Daphne sighs, but she puts on a smile anyway. “This is maybe not the way to do this. I’m in the middle of a conversation.”
“We have orders,” says the second one.
“What, is it because I’m outside?” Daphne’s voice rises, but she doesn’t lose control.
“No, Ms. Morelli. There’s no problem with you being outside.” The first one glances in my direction and doesn’t seem to see me. “It’s time to get ready to go. This way, please.”
Another SUV pulls in front of the alley, and I know what I’m seeing now. I underestimated them. The Morellis. I should have known they wouldn’t have her out here alone. I’ve never paid attention to the building across the street from her apartment. That’s where these people came from.
Daphne laughs a little, but her cheeks are red. “Can you wait at the alley door? I need a minute. Unless you have something to tell me.”
The first guard confers with the other one over her head. “We’ll meet at the door,” he tells her. Both of them jog across the street. One of them stays at the curb. If they both went to the alley door, they’d lose sight of her. Daphne doesn’t come close to the car again. She’s out of reach.
“I have to go.” Her dark eyes mirror the disappointment in her voice. She would have gone with me. She would have done it, if she had another minute. I don’t let this frustration show on my face. I won’t show it to her at all. It’s my patience that will be critical now. Daphne can’t get the idea that a minor disruption like this one will make me lose interest.
“Go, then, little painter.”
Her lips part. She takes a small, shivering breath. It’s too cold for her to be out here. She should be with me. The flush in her cheeks gets another shade darker. Fuck me, it’s perfect. Daphne hooks a hand in the neck of her hoodie and pulls. She could still get in. Could still run into my arms…
“Okay,” she says. The word makes almost no sound.
She makes a quick turn and checks for traffic, then darts across the street. As soon as she’s at the first security guard, he speaks to her. “Why?” I see her ask. I don’t see his answer.
“Enough,” I tell Logan.
“You sure?”
It won’t be enough, nothing will be enough, until I have her. I’m sure I want her next to me instead of walking up the stairs to her apartment. I’m sure I need her in my sight. That’s all I’m fucking sure of.
“Yes. Let’s go home.”
Chapter Twelve
Daphne
Gerard is waitingfor me at Leo’s front door. It snowed on the way here, flakes swirling against the windshield. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. Being irritated feels wrong, but then so does being happy. I didn’t have plans to come over today. I had a day off from the gallery.
And there was Emerson.
I was awake when his car showed up across the street. A dark-colored SUV that could not have been more conspicuous across from the gallery. At first I thought it might be one of Leo’s, but when it got brighter I could see that it wasn’t black, it was a really dark shade of gray.
Come with me.
The thing is, I wanted to go. I wanted to step out of my life for a minute and into his. Find out what he spends all his time looking at with those blue-green eyes.
