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I stare into his eyes, my wrist still held in his warm grasp. His deep brown irises are a stark contrast to his blond waves. I’ve never met anyone with such naturally dark eyes and light hair before.
“I can feel your pulse racing.” He strokes his thumb over the inside of my wrist, pressing lightly against the pulsing vein there. The gesture is calming. He holds my gaze until I have to look away so I can do as he says—breathe.
I shouldn’t have come. This is weird.
“See you on Monday.” I pull my hand away.
He grabs it again, tugging me toward him. Heat radiates from his body as I stand before him, my chest inches from his.
His voice drops, softening like velvet, as he looks at me. Not many men look down at me with me being so tall, and This feeling… it’s… nice. It’s nice to feel like the one who could be wrapped up in strong arms and treasured.
“Come and have a tour. I know Jasmin told you I have an even better view from my apartment than from the chair in my office.” He smirks again, and the corners of my mouth lift in response to the glint in his eyes. I’m beginning to see what Jasmin keeps telling me. Away from work, there’s a man with a sense of humor, and maybe even a heart beneath all that ink and those incredible eyes.
“She only told me that last night when we went out for drinks.”
“Yeah, I know.” He looks at me in puzzlement. “I spoke to her this morning. We went for a run together. We talk every day.”
The smile slides from my face.
“I used to run with my brother before he was knocked down by a speeding driver. He uses a wheelchair now,” I confess in a trembling voice that sounds nothing like mine.
Dax rolls his lips, his eyes dusting over my face with a hint of something that better not be tenderness. I don’t deserve it. He wouldn’t feel sympathy for me if he knew it was my fault.
I take my hand back from him again, skating my fingertips over my wrist where he held it.
“Come on. I’m not getting any younger here, Rose.” He smiles softly and tips his head to the open doorway. I walk ahead of him, grateful he doesn’t ask me more about Brett.
Dax’s apartment is amazing. It’s neutral and calming, decorated in mostly white with lots of cushions scattered on the sofa, and modern art on the walls. Maybe Jasmin decorated it for him, because it’s a stark contrast to the ‘bad-boy’ image he portrays, dressed in black with tattoos covering the majority of his body—the parts I have seen, that is.
He’s kept all the original features, like the ornate ceiling roses and the cornicing around the top of the walls. And his bathroom has the most amazing claw-footed free-standing tub positioned in front of one of the giant windows. I bet he spends hours lying in it, staring out over the fields. I know I would.
But the roof terrace blows me away. Chest-height stone pillars join together, surrounding the edges of the space, making it feel like being encased on top of a castle. The floor is decked, and planters fill the space with greenery.
“You can see the cottage from up here.” I rest my hands on top of the stone and look over at where I’m staying.
“Feel free to come up here should my office chair no longer suffice for your viewing and listening pleasure.”
I side-eye Dax. I refuse to give him the pleasure of a reaction. He’s trying to fire me up again. He admitted as much on the doorstep before I came inside.
“Why do you have fish in your office? You don’t strike me as a Nemo fan.”
He turns to me, his brows raised, and I bite back my smile. He was expecting me to counter his comment with my own, but instead, I’ve turned the conversation firmly back onto him.
He places both hands on the stone guard rail and looks out across the driveway toward the estate’s main gate.
“I find them calming. My anger took me away from Jasmin, and I promised her I would find ways to control it so it wouldn’t hurt us again.”
“Took you away?”
He glances at me with a stormy gaze before he looks away again.
“Yeah. Being locked up has drawbacks.” His lips twist into a grimace.
“Oh.” I have no right to ask Dax personal questions. And now I’ve ruined what was turning into a nice afternoon in his company. It’s the most time we’ve spent together since I’ve arrived.
I follow his line of sight over to the main gate where one of the Range Rovers is coming through.
“It’s Logan. We have some work things to go over.”
