Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

My heels clicked on the polished, artfully patterned wooden flooring as I trailed after him. I tried not to gawk as we walked from room to room. The high ceilings had intricate rose moldings and pretty lighting. The neutral colors gave the open, airy rooms a welcoming ethos. The large windows flooded the place with natural light, adding to the inviting feel.

The scents of polish, floor wax, and artificial fragrances laced the air. He had to hire cleaners, because there was no dust or clutter to be seen. I doubted Dane went around dusting and mopping.

The den and two living rooms all had plasma screens, feature fireplaces, ample luxury seating, and beautiful artwork. The formal dining room, high-tech media room, and oversized, commercial-grade kitchen were equally impressive.

It wasn’t until he showed me the two-floored library with its walls of books and winding staircase that I felt a case of true envy. God, I’d love this room. I’d happily sleep in it. Live in it.

As I took a quick walk around, I knew I’d be spending a lot of my free time in here. Not that I had much of it, but still. “Where did you get all these books?”

“Most of them were Hugh’s,” replied Dane. “Come on, the tour isn’t yet over.”

He showed me the wine cellar, safe room, indoor pool, home office, well-outfitted gym, and, finally, the bedrooms. There were six, in total.

He didn’t show me the inside of his own bedroom, just pointed at the closed door and said, “That’s my room. Now I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.” He led me to the opposite end of the wide hall and motioned me through a partially open door.

Stepping inside, I almost gasped. He’d said I’d have a bed, a closet, a set of drawers, and a workstation. He hadn’t mentioned the antique dressing table, the cozy fireplace, the private bathroom, the reading nook with the lush recliner, or that the bed was a luxurious queen-sized, French-style antique.

Advancing further into the room, I peeked into the walk-in closet. Shit, it was bigger than my kitchen. The walls were lined with racks, shelves, and mirrors, and it even had a shoe carousel.

Exiting the closet, I realized he hadn’t moved from the bedroom doorway. “Has someone been using this room?” Because it didn’t feel like a standard guest room, and it didn’t look as basic as the others.

“No,” he replied simply, setting my suitcase on the floor.

“This stuff is all new?”

“Yes,” he said, like it was no big deal. But it was. Because it meant he’d furnished this room with me in mind. He hadn’t needed to do that at all. A generic guest room would have suited me fine.

I swallowed. “Thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say.

He shrugged. “You had to give up your home. The least I could do was make sure you had a decent room.”

It was a hell of a lot more than “decent.”

“You hungry?”

I shook my head. My stomach was still tied up in knots after the break-in. “No, but thanks.”

“I have a few calls I need to make. Get settled and then come find me when you’re ready to eat.” With that, he was gone.

Alone, I blew out a breath and walked to the large window. It overlooked the rear of the estate. Damn, the man had acreage to burn. There was an outdoor pool, hot tub, cabana, small bar, and stone patio seating area. There were also three small additional buildings. One had to be the outhouse he’d mentioned.

Plopping my ass on the bed, I skimmed my fingers along the cool, gold, satin sheets. It was unbelievable to think that people really lived in places like this.

I lay back on the bed. And almost groaned in delight. It was so damn soft and comfy it would have lured me to sleep if I wasn’t so mentally wired.

I still couldn’t quite believe he’d gone to all this trouble to make sure I felt comfortable. He wasn’t exactly Mr. Considerate. He was so self-focused that he generally didn’t bother to even ask himself how another person might be feeling. Whatever his motivation for this, I was grateful. And I was so claiming his library.

Forcing myself to sit up, I grabbed my phone from my purse and made calls to Simon and my foster parents to tell them about the break-in. Neither call went well. There was cursing and ranting and fretting from all parties.

They were mollified on hearing I was staying with Dane, who had tip-top security measures. Still, I had to promise to visit them all the following day so they could see for themselves that I was okay. Honestly, you’d think I’d been attacked or something.

Once I’d made calls to the insurance company and my landlord, I plonked my small suitcase on the bed. It was time to unpack. I placed my cosmetics on the vanity dresser, lay my laptop and tablet on the workstation, stuck my e-reader in the drawer of the nightstand, put my travel size toiletries into the spa-like bathroom, and then hid all my valuables—including the ones I’d brought from my home safe—beneath the bottom drawer of the dresser.

Most of my clothes needed washing, but I always took extra underwear and a spare suit when we went on business trips in the event of a wardrobe malfunction, so I placed the clean items in the closet.

As for my wedding bouquet … was it weird that I brought it back with me from Vegas? Maybe. But I just hadn’t been able to find it in me to toss it in the trash, despite that Dane had no doubt done exactly that with his boutonniere. Keeping the bouquet wrapped in tissue paper, I carefully placed it on an empty shelf.

I was just contemplating whether to stick my balled-up dirty clothes into a spare pillowcase to carry down to the laundry room—something told me that if I dropped a sock somewhere, I’d have a hell of a time tracking it down—when I heard a loud buzzer. Clearly Dane had a visitor.

Leaving my dirty clothes, I exited my bedroom and crossed to the window at the end of the long hallway. A chic red car drove along the driveway and parked near the courtyard. A female slid out of the car, tall and poised. Jen.

Ugh.

She made a beeline for the front door. Moments later, I heard voices coming from the foyer. I crept closer to the staircase to shamelessly eavesdrop.

“You haven’t been answering my calls,” Jen clipped.

Standing in front of her, Dane shrugged. “You said your piece earlier over the phone.”

I frowned, having no idea what he was talking about.

“I doubted you had anything new to add.” Dane turned and walked away.

Jen followed him further into the house, disappearing from my view. “Well, you’re wrong,” she said, her voice echoing in the large space. “Look, I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I know that. It was just a shock when I saw the picture you sent to Kent.”

“Hmm,” was his only response.

“You did this to get your hands on your trust fund, didn’t you?”

She was obviously referring to him marrying me. Holding onto the smooth banister, I began to creep down the marble stairs, thankful that I’d kicked off my shoes.

“Does she know that’s why you married her? It’s not fair to her if she doesn’t. She has a right to know, Dane.”

“I didn’t say that was why I married Vienna. You did,” he pointed out.

“Because it’s the only thing that makes sense. For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve never wanted to get married. You were always adamant about it.”

“And I meant it. Then. Now I don’t feel that way anymore.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s irrelevant to me what you do or don’t believe,” he said with such nonchalance I could imagine him giving her that indifferent shrug of his.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I silently crossed the foyer and stepped into the wide hallway. From there, I could see that Dane and Jen were standing in the middle of the large den.

She huffed at him, all haughty. “Okay then, if this really isn’t about your trust fund, why did you marry her? Don’t say it’s because you love her. You don’t love anyone, not even yourself. Come on, I want to hear your reason.”

Dane’s eyes turned as cold as a glacial lake. “Let me be very clear on something. You do not get to question my decisions. You do not get to demand answers from me. I don’t owe you explanations. I don’t have to justify shit to you, so don’t walk into my fucking home and come at me like this.”

She licked her lips. “Dane.” It was an entreaty, an attempt to soothe.

“You don’t have to like that I married Vienna—I couldn’t care less either way. I don’t need approval from you or anyone else.” He sank onto the leather sofa and draped his arms over the back of it.

Jen looked down at him. “I just don’t get what it is about her that’s apparently so special,” she said, quiet and subdued. “I might not know her, but I know plenty about her. I did my homework.”

He tensed. “You did, what?”

“I wanted to know more about this person you brought into our family. Did you know she grew up in foster care?”

I almost snorted in derision. She said it like I’d been raised by inbred cannibals.

“She was taken away from her family because her father beat the shit out of her mother right in front of her and then got himself arrested—the mother wasn’t interested in her child.”

The fuck? She really had done her freaking homework, hadn’t she? Nosy little bitch.

“Did you know she was once engaged?” Jen huffed. “I’ll bet she never told you that, did she? Well, I know all about it.”

“So do I,” said Dane. “It’s a boring story, so don’t bother repeating it. You can leave now.”

She didn’t, sadly. I leaned against the doorjamb and folded my arms.

Jen put her hands on her hips. “Doesn’t it concern you that she’s probably just after your money?”

“You would never have even considered that if you knew her,” he said.

“And just how does she feel about marrying a man who’d never sleep in the same room as her?”

I blinked. Wait, what?

His face darkened. “What did you just say?” he asked, a lethal note to his voice.

Jen went as still as prey, and her mouth bopped open and closed. “I just … I mean …”

“What? What did you mean?”

“I once heard Hugh say something to Kent about how he hoped you’d one day get over your aversion to sleeping in the same space as others; he said no wife would want to sleep in her marital bed alone. I worried you might have been molested as a child or something, but Kent said it wasn’t like that. He wouldn’t explain further, though.”

“Because it’s not your fucking business. My marriage isn’t your fucking business. My wife is definitely not your fucking business.”

“Does she know about us?”

His brows snapped together. “There was never an ‘us.’ We fucked. Once. That’s it. And you probably only wanted it because you were trying to get Kent’s attention.”

Her head jerked back. “Is that honestly what you think?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t see that it matters either way.”

“I would never have used you like that, Dane. Never. I cared about you. Now I care for you as a sister, and it always saddened me that you were intent on being alone. I understand what made you this way, but I don’t want you to spend your life alone. I want you to have someone who cares for you. If I thought that this thing you have with your PA was real, I’d be delighted for you. But I don’t believe it is.”

“So you’ve already said. Now if you’re done …”

“I’m not done. I haven’t finished telling you what I learned about your PA. Her father has Dissociative Identity Disorder, you know. That’s probably hereditary. If you had any children with her, they’d probably get it.”

A snicker popped out of me before I could stop it. Both Dane and Jen looked at me. He didn’t seem surprised to see me there, so I wondered if he’d already sensed my presence. Jen, however, looked shocked as all shit.

“Oh no, please, do continue,” I urged, smiling at her.

She licked her front teeth. “Dane didn’t tell me you were here.”

“I kind of live here now.”

Jen’s jaw dropped. She looked from me to him, her eyes wide. “You asked her to move in with you?”

Dane frowned. “Where else would I want my wife to be?”

I pushed away from the doorjamb and slowly crossed to her. “You sure do seem very interested in me, what with you doing all that ‘homework.’”

She jutted out her chin. “I’m just looking out for my brother-in-law, that’s all.”

“No, you were being judgy and intrusive and feeling he needed to justify himself to you. Which I just don’t get. I mean, do you shove your nose in Travis’s business? I doubt it. Yet, you think you should have some say in what Dane does. Maybe that makes sense in your head, but it doesn’t in mine.”

“Dane is my family.”

“And now I’m your family, too. How cool is that?” I took another step closer to her. “Here’s my problem, Jenny—”

“It’s Jen.”

“Families should support each other. Should be there for one another. Should want to see their loved ones happy. You, well, you’re not being supportive of Dane, are you? And that bugs me, because he deserves to have the support of his family. If you can’t give him that, if you can’t get off your high fucking horse and quite simply accept his choice of wife, there’ll only be one result: You won’t come between me and him. You’ll come between you and him.”

She shook her head. “That wouldn’t happen.”

“Don’t take my word for it. Ask him.”

Jen’s gaze sliced to him, blazing with indignation. “You’d choose her over me and your brothers?”

He looked her square in the eye. “In a fucking heartbeat.”

Jen sucked in a breath.

I smiled. “Well, now that that’s out of the way, I’m going to scrounge up some dinner. Anyone hungry?”

Without waiting for a response, I headed to the kitchen. It wasn’t a straightforward journey, since I didn’t yet know my way around, but I found the room eventually. I was looking through the dark cherry wooden cupboards when I heard footsteps behind me.

“She’s gone.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Dane, who stood near the kitchen island. “And here I was thinking she’d want to get to know me better. Is she always so judgmental?”

“No, not usually. But if she’s determined to dislike someone, she’ll find all sorts of reasons to disapprove of them.”

“Like that they grew up in foster care, as if it’s a major deal. Whatever. I’m done talking about her. She bores me. Your home, however? Far from boring. I had no idea it was this big. Isn’t it odd having all this empty space around you?”

“Where you see empty space, I see private space. Plus, I wanted somewhere that had lots of land, no nosy neighbors.”

“Where you could be the emperor of your domain.” He’d done what his uncle had done. He’d bought himself a huge home. But where Hugh had found himself hating that he lived alone, Dane wasn’t bothered by it. Or, at least, he wasn’t yet bothered by it. That might one day change, but I wouldn’t bet money on it. “Are there any rooms that are off-limits?”

“My office isn’t off-limits as such. But when I’m not there, it’s always locked. If I am in there, feel free to enter. My bedroom is out of bounds to anyone but me,” he added with such seriousness that I blinked.

“You have some kinky stuff in there or something?”

“No. It’s just off-limits.”

“A Dane-only zone.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t like anyone being in your private sanctum, huh?” I suspected it also had something to do with his aversion to sleeping around others. “Do you have a housekeeper?”

“I have two. They only come in when I’m working. They know I like to be alone. You’ll probably meet them at some point.” He leaned back against the kitchen island. “I’ve hired a moving crew to help you pack and transport your belongings. They’ll start tomorrow after the police are done with your apartment. We’ll get everything moved here on Sunday like we originally planned. You should stay with me until then.”

Considering it made sense to do so, I didn’t argue. “It’s fine if you don’t want to answer, but what did Jen mean when she said she knows what ‘drives’ you to spend your life alone? Is it something that, as your ‘wife,’ I should know?”

“Jen could never understand why I didn’t want to get married and have a family, so she felt the need to try to explain it. There is no ‘drive,’ there’s only my preference to be alone.”

I wasn’t sure if I believed that nothing drove him to live this way, but it did seem that he believed it.

“Did Simon really beat up your mother?”

Tension tightened my muscles. Fucking Jen just had to go and dig up that shit, didn’t she? “It was Deacon.”

“Why did he do it?”

“She … she hurt me, and he lost his temper. I know it’s wrong for a man to hit a woman—”

“It’s just as wrong for an adult—man or woman—to harm a child.” A muscle in Dane’s cheek ticked. “She was abusive toward you?”

“Sometimes,” I replied softly.

“What had she done that made Deacon lose his temper like that?”

I rubbed at my throat. “I didn’t want to go … somewhere with her, so she slapped me hard enough to split my lip. Simon walked in just as she was trying to drag me out of the apartment. He realized what was going on and, well, Deacon surfaced and lost it.”

Dane slowly crossed to me. “Where was she trying to take you?” he asked, pitching his voice low.

I swallowed. “To see her dealer. He never touched me, but he wanted to. He liked little kids. Mostly little girls. And so he found female addicts who had kids, and he suggested they pay for their drugs by letting him make use of their children. She told me that I was to do whatever he told me to do, even if it hurt.”

Dane’s jaw looked hard as granite. “Then she’s as twisted as he is.”

“Was, not is. He was killed in prison.”

“Good.”

Yeah, it was. “Not a lot of things scare me. But someone who could molest a child, who could find enjoyment in that? They terrify me. Because that’s a kind of darkness that should not exist in this world or any other.”

“Anyone who preys on those who are weaker than themselves aren’t frightening; they’re spineless. Worthless. Pathetic. Sick in the head. And they know it, which is why they never target anyone whose strength matches or surpasses their own.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

“I wasn’t sexually abused, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

I noticed he only specified he wasn’t sexually abused.

He folded his arms. “Did your father go to prison for assaulting your mother?”

“No. The police realized he had mental health issues. They called in an expert. He was eventually diagnosed with DID. That was when he started getting the help he needed.”

“What kind of help?”

“Mostly medication and psychotherapy. They work. He used to have eight alters, but he was able to integrate five of them into his personality with the help of his doctors. But Simon believes the other alters won’t be going anywhere. Honestly, I don’t think he wants them to.” I drew in a steadying breath. “Are you done quizzing me now? I’m going to note it’s a little hypocritical of you to launch questions at me when you rarely answer mine.”

He closed the small distance between us, edging into my personal space. “Ask me a question. Any question. Just be sure you want the answer.”

There were a lot of questions I wanted to ask this man. There were so many things I wanted to know about him. I opened my mouth to speak, but then I snapped it shut.

Dane slanted his head. “What?”

“I don’t want to pry out of you something that you don’t want to share.”

Those pools of dark ink seemed to warm slightly. He very slowly bent his head and pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth that made me all tingly and shocked me into silence because, hello, this was very un-Dane behavior. “You’re a far better person than I am, Vienna.” He sighed. “You once asked who Oliver was. He was my twin.”

I almost rocked back on my heels in surprise. “What happened to him?”

“He died when we were eight. Anaphylactic shock. He was severely allergic to bee stings. One stung him while he was playing in the backyard.”

Oh, God. How awful would it feel to lose your twin, someone who felt part of you? Maybe that was the source of the empty spot inside him.

The back of my throat began to ache. “Were you with him at the time?” I asked, my tone soft.

“No. I would have been, but …” He drew in a breath through his nose. “That’s another story.”

I worried my lower lip. “Thank you for telling me.”

He inclined his head. “Hungry yet?”

Rolling with the change of subject, I replied, “A little, but I’m not sure I can eat much.”

“What’s your go-to-feel-better meal?”

I pursed my lips. “Grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“Then sit. I’ll make you one.”