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He raises a shoulder. "I want to be sure you’re comfortable."
"Right."
"I’ll give you a tour of the apartment tomorrow."
"I wouldn’t have envisioned you living in a penthouse." I nod toward the lights of the city which shine outside the floor-to-ceiling window.
"Why not?"
"You seem like a man who values history. I thought you’d live in a Victorian townhouse. Or in a heritage building."
A strange look comes into his eyes, then he banks it. "You don’t know me at all."
"Which is why you asked me to move in with you before the wedding, so we can get to know each other."
He tilts his head.
"When do we meet your family?"
"Tomorrow."
"What?" I gape. "I… I’m not ready."
"You’ll be fine."
"Easy for you say. You’re not the one on display."
His features soften. "My grandfather will be relieved I'm settling down. As for my half-brothers, their opinions don’t count."
"How can you say that. Aren’t they family?"
"I’m the odd one out."
"Why is that?"
"Their father, who is also my biological father, didn’t know of my existence until a few months ago. My mother fell pregnant with his child, but never told him. She broke up with him and married my uncle, his older brother, who adopted me. My adoptive father was estranged from his family. He changed his surname to his mother’s—"
"Hence, your surname is Chase, while your family surname is Davenport."
He nods. "My grandfather, Arthur, found out about my existence a few months ago. He realized I was his oldest grandson and wanted me to take over as the CEO of the family."
"And you agreed."
"I want to make him happy." He raises a shoulder.
"You also need a goal, a focus in your life, and this gives you an anchor."
Once more, that strange look flickers in his eyes—it’s a combination of puzzlement and surprise. Once more, he banks it, and his features take on that mask of polite disinterest. The one I’m coming to hate.
"If this is going to work, you have to be truthful with me."
"Are you accusing me of lying?" he asks in a low, hard voice. My core instantly clenches. My nipples perk up. When he uses that voice, it’s as if he flips a switch somewhere deep inside me that controls my feelings of arousal.
"You don’t lie, Edward."
He blinks.
"But youareevasive."
