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He smiles softly. “Thanks. She’s my baby.”
“She?”
“Yeah, of course.”
The sunlight filtering through the tall trees splashes light across his face at regular intervals. The effect of light and dark only heightens his handsome features, his attractiveness. The contrast is almost hypnotic, and I can’t look away. I wonder what he’s thinking.
“You think I could drive her sometime?”
Kael doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “Not a fucking chance.”
When Kael said he had a vacation house up in the mountains, I expected it to be like a hunting cabin or a fishing cottage. Wooden logs, beams and a cozy fireplace. That sort of thing.
But this place.Holy smokes.
This place is no cabin.
This place is a two-story architectural accomplishment made of glass and stone with shiny metal details. It’s breathtaking. Awe-inspiring even, with the way it cuts into the mountain on one side, a long uphill driveway surrounded by trees and low bushes on the other.
I trace the tops of the trees with my eyes. There are sprawling views of the countless small lakes that scatter through the mountains, and from up here I can see the rooftops of a couple of other houses, but they’re so far off in the distance it’s like they’re another world away.
The air is crisp up here, much cooler than in the city, clean and fresh, and it feels incredible in my lungs as I lean my head out the window while we pull up the steep driveway.
“Holy shit, Kael.”
I glance across at him again. If I had to guess, I’d say he looks pleased that I’m so impressed by his house.
And why wouldn’t I be? It’s really impressive.
Without thinking, I reach across and touch my fingers to the back of his hand on the gear shift and I love that he doesn’t hesitate before capturing my hand in his hand, and then he holds it, bringing both our hands to rest on his thigh as he continues to navigate the long driveway one-handed.
His fingers slide between mine, and I stare at the way our hands look linked together, fighting whatever it is inside me that’s screaming at me to stop this before it’s too late. But I’m pretty sure it’s already too late. Kael Jenkins is a dangerous substance, far more dangerous than anything else I’ve ever come across.
He’s lethal. Deadly.
But death isn’t warm, and right here, in this moment, I’m completely lost in the warmth of him because every part of Kael is warm, even his cold, dark sides. And those are the sides of him in which I’m most fascinated.
A thought suddenly dawns on me as we round the top of the driveway, and Kael pulls the car into an enormous three-car garage, killing the ignition as soon as the automatic roller door slides closed behind us.
The thought…oh, yeah…I’m not technically Kael’s therapist anymore.
“Come on,” he says, squeezing my hand before I can give the notion too much thought. “I want to show you around.”
He climbs out from behind the wheel and grabs our bags from the back seat, fiddling with a set of keys in his pocket. Then he opens the internal door from the garage into the house, punching numbers into a security system.
“After you,” he says, standing back to allow me into the house first.
I linger beside the car, hesitantly.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing, I was just—”
“Stop worrying about whatever it is you’re worrying about. This is the place I come to get away from it all. You’ll love it here, Jonesy. I promise you will.”
I smile softly, and then walk inside the house, Kael following me into what appears to be a large mudroom. There are built-in cupboards along one wall, custom made no doubt, and wicker baskets for shoes tucked beneath a long bench seat. One of the walls is painted navy with copper hooks for coats, and there are two motor cycle helmets sitting on a low credenza just inside the door.
“I thought your bike was back in New York.”
