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I practically skipped beside Lucien in giddy joy, but my stomach twisted with nerves. Knowing I was going to meet Noah face-to-face was intimidating as hell…on multiple levels.
I wondered if he was still as good-looking as thatPlanet Xpromo pic or if his injuries had altered him somehow. I wondered if he was really going to be as rude as he had been the first time we’d “met” or if a lot of that asshole-ness had just been an act. After all, I was a stranger in a blind guy’s house; I could have walked out with one of the crystal vases and he’d never even know it. Maybe he was just trying to protect himself.
But mostly, I wondered if he was going to agree to everything Lucien and I planned to propose, because although I’d only had the barest glimpse of that living space on the first floor, I was already making it mine.
“The house belongs to Noah’s parents, who reside permanently in Connecticut,” Lucien was telling me as he smoked a Dunhill cigarette. “When I told them last night that you wished to live there, they were thrilled. Aside from worrying constantly about their son, they’ve had valid concerns about the upkeep of the property.”
“Do they not see Noah very much?”
Lucien’s lips made a thin line before he answered. “I’m afraid not. They did at first, to be sure. They visited him regularly at the various hospitals and the rehabilitation facility in White Plains. But after they gave him the townhome—to recuperate in—Noah has made it very clear he wants no visitors of any kind.”
“Not even his family?”
“Not his parents, not his sister, and not the scores of friends he made during what he calls his ‘other life.’”
The bounce in my step vanished. “If he won’t even see family, why would he agree to let me live there?”
“It will not be up to him, not entirely, though let us keep mum on the living arrangements for now. I told him that you were coming today to interview for the position. I said nothing about you being a live-in assistant.”
I bit my lip. “That sounds a bit dishonest, doesn’t it? I thought you would have at least broached it with him.”
“I could have,” Lucien replied. “And Noah would have denied me outright and refused to interview you at all.”
“Oh.”
Lucien stopped and patted my hand. “There are times in this life in which we must do what is best, and so often what is best is not what is easy.”
We arrived at the townhouse, and I stared up at the three-story residence, trying not to think too hard about all that was at stake.
“Interview as you would a normal position. Be honest. Be yourself. Let him warm up to you—such as he is capable—and leave the rest to me.”
He unlocked the front door and stepped aside to let me in. “Noah? Nous sommes arrivés.”
No answer.
Lucien motioned for me to walk ahead of him up the stairs. I know he was doing it out of etiquette, but I felt like a human shield until I remembered Noah couldn’t see me. I could’ve been wearing a sombrero and a pink tutu, and it wouldn’t have mattered. No, his first impression of me would form when I spoke.
Not a comforting thought.
On the second floor, the kitchen to my right was cleaned up a bit; I guessed Lucien had been here over the weekend. The square glass coffee table was free of clutter—it sat between a beige leather couch and a matching chair.
Noah Lake was in the chair.
For a second, all normal, rational thought flew out of my head. The only one that made any sense was that thePlanet Xpromo shot didn’t do him justice. At. All.
He wore a black V-neck T-shirt, gray athletic pants, and running shoes that looked brand new. His legs were literally spilling over the edge of the deep chair, confirming my suspicion that he was tall. Well over six feet, easy.
The accident hadn’t robbed him of his beauty as I had wondered, though his skin was a bit paler, his hair a bit longer in the back. He wore the same growth of stubble on his angular chin and cheeks. If anything, he was even more handsome in person than in the pic—a stunning example of masculine beauty if I ever saw one. But something was missing.
His smile, I thought.The accident stole his smile.The guy in the promo headshot was a beaming young man full of life andjoie de vivre, as Lucien might say. The Noah who sat before me now looked as if a scowl were permanently etched into his striking features. As if it had been months since he’d eventhoughtabout smiling.
I was dimly aware of Lucien’s hand on my back, gently pushing me forward so that he could step into the room. He guided me to the couch facing Noah, and I wordlessly sank into it. I set my violin case on the floor next to my feet.
“Noah, comment ça va? Bien?”
Noah made a noncommittal noise. Those astonishing hazel eyes were fixed on the glass coffee table in front of him.
“Noah, this is Charlotte Conroy,” Lucien said. I noticed he wasn’t sitting down to join us.
