Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Returning to my desk after a quick trip to the restroom, I saw that a pile of mail had been delivered. I suspected that, as per usual, most would be addressed to Dane. He was currently out of the building, but he’d been clear that he would pick me up from o-Verve at the end of the workday.

In the week that had gone by since the incident with Jeff at the bar, Dane had … well, I couldn’t say he spent time with me, but he avoided me less than usual. He hadn’t attended so many late external meetings, so we’d eaten dinner together on his free evenings—sometimes at the office, sometimes at home. He’d also accompanied me on my visits to Simon, Melinda and Wyatt, and even to Ashley and Tucker.

It had been a calm week. I hadn’t had any further contact from Travis or Hope. There hadn’t been a peep out of Heather either. It had just been … normal. But I wasn’t confident that it would last.

Now, standing at my desk, I screened Dane’s mail, separating the letters he’d need to respond to personally. Only once that was done did I flick through my own mail.

Tearing open a brown bubble envelope, I slipped my hand inside and pulled out a small jewelry box. I double-blinked. A gift from Dane? I doubted it. Since he was out of the building, I couldn’t even ask him.

It had better not be a damn gift from Owen. I’d thought he’d given up trying to stupidly “win” me back.

I opened the box, expecting to see earrings or something. I felt my face scrunch up as, instead, I found a USB flash drive. The fuck?

I glanced inside the envelope. There was no note, just as there was nothing written on the envelope itself that would indicate who sent the package.

Picking up the flash drive, I pursed my lips and glanced at my computer. I should put my “gift” back in the box and deal with it later. I was working right now, and I highly doubted that whatever was on the flash drive was anything to do with work. But curiosity won out, and I soon found myself inserting the flash drive into my computer.

A few clicks on my keyboard later, I discovered there was only a single folder saved to the memory stick. It had been named: “Just thought you should know.” I frowned. What the hell was this?

My scalp prickled. Part of me wanted to eject the damn thing from my computer and put it back in its box. But, again, curiosity overrode my wariness.

Using the mouse, I double-clicked on the folder to open it. I felt my frown deepen. Nine photographs had been saved into the folder, all titled from “Pic1” to “Pic9.”

My heart began to pick up speed, because I had the distinct feeling that I wouldn’t like what I was about to see. I clicked on the first small thumbnail to enlarge it. I found myself looking at a side-on view of Dane standing on the doorstep of a house. A slim brunette stood in the doorway, clad in only a tank top and shorts. My stomach did a slow roll.

God, please don’t let this be what I think it is.

Licking my lips, I enlarged the second photograph. The camera lens had zoomed in so that I could see Dane inside the house. He stood in the living room facing the brunette, who was a mere foot away. I flipped to the next photo. Now they were standing closer, and his hand was cupping her chin. My chest went tight, and I swallowed hard.

In the next picture … oh God, she was in the process of peeling off her tank top. I hissed out a breath and shut my eyes. I didn’t want to look at the other photos. Hadn’t I seen enough?

No. No, I had to know what else there was to see.

I took a deep breath and continued down the list of pictures. The next two were also taken at her house, but they were clearly taken on a different day from the first three—hers and Dane’s clothes were different. They weren’t in her living room this time.

They were in her goddamn bedroom.

I gripped the mouse so tight I was surprised it didn’t crack. In one image, she and Dane were standing near her bed, facing each other, and he was holding a pink sweater … as if he’d just stripped it right off her. In the following picture, she was on her knees in front of him, her head bowed in a somewhat submissive pose, her hair shielding her face.

So, what, was he into BDSM or something? Was she a sub? His sub?

I didn’t realize my hands were shaking until I struggled to focus the cursor on the seventh thumbnail. I finally brought up the picture, blinking in surprise to see that the setting had changed. It showed Dane walking toward a large, black building. His suit was once again different.

My nose wrinkled. I didn’t recognize the place, and it wasn’t surrounded by other buildings, so I couldn’t even guess at the area.

I clicked on the eighth photograph, hoping it would give me some clues, but it only showed him disappearing into the same building. Biting my lip, I enlarged the final picture; it was an image of him exiting the place, his tie dangling from his hand, and his shirt open at the collar.

Not whatsoever understanding why anyone would think to send me the latter three photos, I took a better look at the building. There was a sign above the door on which something was written in red and gold lettering. I zoomed in on the image. Club Euphoria.

I’d never heard of it.

I brought up an online search engine on my cell and typed in the name of the club. I scanned the list of results that then came up, finding a club of that name based in Redwater City. A sex club. It was a fucking sex club.

The urge to send the computer crashing to the floor was so strong I had to back away from the desk. Breathing hard, I rubbed at my aching chest. Really, I could be getting wound up over nothing, couldn’t I? These could easily be old photos.

Grasping that thought hard, I checked the meta data of each picture. Allegedly, they were taken in the last month. But that info could be faked, right? Maybe. I didn’t know enough about meta data to be sure.

When would he have a chance to sneak around with other women anyway? He was busy all the time, going to meeting after meeting.

And, up until a week ago, spending many of his evenings alone at o-Verve. And then there were those external dinner meetings that had run late.

My blood ran cold. What if he hadn’t truly spent so many evenings at o-Verve, and what if those meetings hadn’t truly run so late? What if he’d been going to see her? The brunette. Or what if he’d been indulging himself at the club?

Grabbing the planner, I checked the dates on the photos alongside the dates on his schedule. My stomach sank. He had indeed had external dinner meetings on the evenings he’d—if the photos were to be believed—been visiting the brunette.

There’d been no scheduled meeting on the evening he was supposedly at the sex club, though. Closing my eyes, I thought back to that day; remembered how Dane had curtly turned down my offer to share a pizza with him; remembered how he’d claimed he needed to return to o-Verve and would eat there. And if the photos were dated correctly, he’d fucking lied.

Even as it hurt to do it, I flipped through the pictures again, as if I might somehow see something that would convince me I was being played by whoever was holding the camera. They might have put the flash drive in a jewelry box as if the info was a gift to me, but they’d done it with the intent of hurting me enough to make me walk away from Dane.

I took a closer look at each of the images, trying to read the expressions on his face. No matter how close he stood to the brunette, he never looked turned-on or like a man who was anticipating sex. But he was touching her.

It was possible that these pictures were taken before I began “dating” Dane; that the meta data had somehow been tampered with.

My instincts were pricking at me, telling me I was missing something. Something small and obvious—

The tie. The tie he was wearing on the first three photos was new. The personal shopper brought it to his house on the very same day she brought me a bunch of new clothes to replace the ones that had been stolen. Which meant that the first three pictures couldn’t be old, and so the others probably weren’t either.

God, I was going to be sick.

The bastard. The lying, deceitful, horrible bastard.

We weren’t a true couple, so he hadn’t exactly cheated on me. But it felt like a betrayal. Emotional betrayal, more than anything else, because he’dlied to me … and I’d believed him. He’d said we’d both need to take a vow of celibacy until after the divorce. Either he’d only ever intended for that to apply to me, or he’d been unable to last and so he’d sought pleasure elsewhere—like from his sub.

Jealousy speared me so hard it hurt. More, it pierced right through the lies I’d told myself. I wasn’t close to crossing an emotional line with him. I’d already done it. I’d grown to care for this man who’d never feel the same way for me. And he’d played me like a cheap harmonica.

Did he really have so little respect for me? Apparently so. Because he had no qualms with repaying my loyalty to him—a loyalty I didn’t actually owe him, given that the marriage wasn’t real—by sneaking around with other women and making a fool of me.

It was really a good thing he wasn’t in his office or I’d have stormed in there and fucked his shit up. I didn’t want to do this at o-Verve. Others might overhear, and I didn’t fancy sharing with everyone else just how stupid I’d been. It was goddamn embarrassing to think that he’d had me so fooled.

I should have known better than to buy into his bullshit. I’d known he was a master at deception. I’d known he played people well. I’d been dumb to assume he wouldn’t deceive me in such a way. The devil always lied, didn’t he?

I took a few moments to get my shit together, knowing I couldn’t afford to let my anger loose here. I was glad that he wouldn’t be returning to the building until the end of the workday—it meant I had plenty of time to find some semblance of calm.

Ejecting the flash drive, I slipped it into the side pocket of my purse. But the images didn’t leave my thoughts as easily as they left the screen of my computer. They remained at the forefront of my mind all day long as I worked, distracting and taunting me.

Dammit, it shouldn’t pain me this much. But it did. Which was why I held onto my anger so tight I thought it would choke me. It staved off the emotional crash I knew I’d experience later, when I finally let myself really feel the full impact of his betrayal.

There were several times throughout the day when, as weak as it made me, I found myself questioning whether the photos were truly what they seemed. There was no denying that they looked bad or that they were as incriminating as hell, but they didn’t show him fucking the brunette.

Surely if Dane had screwed her, the cameraman would have sent photographic proof of it, because he clearly wanted me to believe Dane was cheating on me. Why only send pictures that hinted at it? Maybe he just liked the idea of me being confused and only able to guess.

Who was the bitch anyway? Dane sure seemed to know her well, and he was comfortable enough in her home to venture up to her bedroom.

If there was anything innocent about his association with her, he wouldn’t have lied that his dinner meetings had ran late on those particular evenings. He would have just said he’d visited a friend—or whatever the hell she was to him. So, no, I wasn’t going to let myself hope that he could explain all this away.

At the end of the workday, my phone beeped just as I switched off my computer. I picked up my cell and swiped my thumb over the screen.

It was a message from Dane: Sam and I are waiting for you outside the main entrance.

I ground my teeth and harshly dumped my cell in my purse. Shit, I needed to keep it together. I didn’t want to have a full-on blowout with him in front of Sam. The conversation needed to be had, but not until we were alone. The thing was, Dane didn’t like to wait. He’d easily sense I was pissed. He read me too well. He’d want answers straight away.

What I really needed was to avoid talking with him throughout the journey. That meant I needed to have something else that required my attention; something that would also distract me and keep me preoccupied.

I paused as an idea came to me. Ashley loved to talk on the phone. She could do it for hours. I could call her as I was leaving o-Verve and keep the conversation going until I arrived at Dane’s house. He wouldn’t think anything of it, and he’d probably occupy himself by doing work-related stuff on his phone anyway.

As I made my way to the first floor, I called Ashley. Just as I’d hoped, she was more than happy to talk. Outside, I slipped into the car and gave Dane a too-quick smile without even pausing in my conversation with her. A conversation that turned out to be very easy to keep going.

It wasn’t until we pulled into the courtyard that I said, “I’ve got to go now, Ash.”

“Sure thing, girl,” she said. “See you soon. Tell Mr. Hottie I said hi.”

I ended the call, gave Sam a wave, and followed Dane into the house. He often went straight to his home office, but today he headed to the den and slipped behind the small bar.

He flicked me a look as he poured brandy into a crystal tumbler. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

I folded my arms. “When you made it a habit to retreat to o-Verve of an evening and started attending those dinner meetings that always seemed to run late, I thought you might be avoiding me. Avoiding being here alone with me for some reason, like you worried I’d get caught up in all this and forget it was fake. Did you really go to o-Verve on those evenings, Dane? Did those meetings really run so late? Or were you spending some time elsewhere?”

Frowning, he set down the brandy bottle. “What is this, Vienna?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Because I’m wondering why you’d even ask it.”

“You stipulated that neither of us would sleep with anyone while we were faking being a couple.”

One brow arched. “Are you accusing me of not following that stipulation?”

“Just answer my question, Dane.”

His eyes narrowed. “Have Travis and Hope been whispering shit into your ear again? Is that what this is?”

“You’re still dodging my question.” I took one step closer to the bar. “Either you be straight with me about this or I walk.”

A dark emotion flickered across his face. “Didn’t I tell you not to threaten me with that ever again?”

“I let you keep your secrets, Dane. I respect your right to have them—it’s not like we’re a real couple who needs to be open with each other. But this is different, so I want to know the truth.”

“You think I’ve been sneaking around with other women? That’s what you think?”

My heart sank. He was avoiding the question because he didn’t want to admit the truth. Anger rose up sharp again before the pain could swallow me. “Fuck this.” I spun on my heel and stalked across the room.

“Vienna—”

I whirled and jabbed a finger in his direction. “No, if you don’t respect me enough to give me a straight answer then I’m done here. I don’t expect you to care for me, confide in me, or bare your soul, but you could at least be straight with me when it counts.” I dipped my hand into my purse. “Oh, I think this will appease your curiosity.” I tossed him the flash drive, which he caught easily. “Have fun,” I spat.

Breathing hard, I hurried upstairs and marched into my room. Closing the door behind me, I flipped the lock just in case he thought to follow me. I wasn’t interested in anything he might have to say. I needed to pack my shit and go.

I stilled, remembering that I only had my small suitcase. Shit, I’d have to leave most of my things and just pack some clothes and essentials. Then I could go to … well, I wasn’t sure yet. Anywhere but here.

Storming into the walk-in closet, I grabbed the small case from a shelf and began to fill it with the clothing I’d need. The back of my throat ached, and it felt as though a massive pressure sat on my chest.

Tears stung my eyes—not just tears borne of hurt, but of anger. I would not cry. No. I refused to shed any tears over him.

I used the tricks I’d learned as a child to fight back tears—pinched the skin between my thumb and forefinger and pushed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. It was Freddie who’d taught them to me. They worked now, just as they always had in the past.

Marching out of the closet, I tossed the other items I’d need into the case and then yanked the zipper closed. Taking a moment to compose myself, I scrubbed a hand down my face and closed my eyes. Instantly, images of him with the brunette popped into my head.

My chest squeezing, I snapped open my eyes. Fuck, it shouldn’t make me feel so sick and cold to think of him with another woman.

Hooking the strap of my purse over my shoulder, I picked up the suitcase and left the room. My insides seized as I began to descend the winding staircase. He stood at the bottom, barring my path.

“We’re going to talk,” he said, his tone non-negotiable.

Refusing to let him see the hurt churning inside me, I gave him a blank look. “Another time.”

“Who sent you the flash drive?”

“I haven’t a clue. There was no note. It was posted to o-Verve and addressed to me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go.”

His brow raised. “You don’t want to know who the woman is? You don’t want to know why I was at that club? I know how those pictures must look to you. Collectively, they paint a very ugly image of me—one that clearly had the desired effect, because you want to walk. But none of it is what it seems.”

Yeah. Right. “Like I said, we’ll talk another time.”

“No, we’re going to do it now. We can have the conversation right here, if you like. Makes no difference to me.”

I ground my teeth. “Dane, I’m not in the mood to—”

“She was Hugh’s favorite call girl.”

I felt my lips part. “Excuse me?”

“Even when he was in his later years, plenty of women—young and old—were eager to share his bed because he had money and power. But Hugh wasn’t interested in having a pretty ornament who’d lyingly profess to love him; he said it would be no different than him paying for sex, only he’d have to deal with the aggravation that came with a shallow relationship. So he stuck to high-end call girls, because then at least everyone knew where they stood.

“He developed a fondness for Lacey—she had a shit childhood and got into prostitution because there was nothing that she wouldn’t do to provide for her eight-year-old son. She became his regular. Before he died, he told me he’d be leaving her fifty grand in his will and one of his apartments, but that she could only have those things if she gave up her job as a call girl and went back to school, just as she dreamed of doing.

“He was sure she’d do it, and she did. He made me promise to keep an eye on her, because he didn’t trust that her pimp—who scares the everloving shit out of her—wouldn’t harass her or bully her into going back to that life. The guy liked having control over her, and he hates that he lost it. Whenever things are going to shit, he seeks out his favorite whipping girl. Lacey knows to call me if he makes an appearance.”

I narrowed my eyes, searching his face. He looked and sounded so very sincere. But then, he always did—even when lying his ass off to my family.

“Those photos of me in her living room … I was there because she called to say he’d broken into her home and smacked her around,” he went on. “I was holding her chin while I got a good look at the bruised side of her face—you can’t see it from the angle on the picture. She was lifting her tank top to show me the bruises on her ribs from where he’d kicked the shit out of her. Again, you can’t see those marks from the angle the picture was taken.

“I went to the club the next night because he owns it, and I knew he’d be there. As I’ve done many times before, I beat the shit out of him—I even wrapped my tie around his throat and choked him until he almost passed out. When I called Lacey the following day to tell her I’d dealt with him, she didn’t answer. Thinking he might have gotten to her again, I went to her house and I found that she was packing to leave.

“I snatched a sweater from her hand before she could toss it in the case; I talked her into not running. She knelt on the floor because that’s where she’d set the suitcase—something you can’t see in the picture—and she’d agreed to unpack it. If you want, I can take you to meet Lacey right now; she’ll tell you everything I just told you.”

“If it’s all so innocent, why didn’t you tell me about her?”

“Probably for the same reason you haven’t told me everything about Simon’s past and what made him develop DID: because it doesn’t affect me; it’s not something I need to know. That you haven’t told me isn’t personal, is it?”

No, it wasn’t personal. As our relationship was a sham, I saw no need to tell him things about people who didn’t affect him. And that worked both ways, didn’t it? I was okay with that. The problem here was that he’d lied to me. “The night you went to the club, you told me you were going to o-Verve.”

“And I did. Before coming home, I paid her pimp a visit.”

“You knew I’d assumed that the meetings simply ran late. You let me believe that.”

“Not out of some wish to deceive you. I’ve lived alone for a long time, Vienna. There was no one to care where I’d been or when I’d be home; no one who’d want a rundown of my movements. If you’d outright asked me why I was home late, I’d have told you because it was no big secret. But you didn’t ask, so I thought you didn’t care. I’m not a man who’ll automatically explain where he’s been—I’ve never had to.”

Okay, yeah, I could understand that. But would he have really told me the truth if I had asked questions? I just wasn’t sure. My emotions were all over the place, and I couldn’t seem to reason everything through. “I don’t know if I believe you.”

“It’s understandable that you’re not so quick to trust what I’m telling you. I lie, I scheme, I manipulate. I’m not a good person. But my word is gold—I never break it. Which was why Hugh made me vow to watch over Lacey,” he added in a put-out tone.

He tilted his head. “Why do you want out of our agreement, Vienna? You didn’t just demand answers from me, you threatened to walk. It’s the second time you’ve done it. As if your first instinct is to run from me, which tells me you want out. Why?”

Truthfully, I wanted “out” because I was swimming in emotional waters with Dane—that could only lead to me drowning, given that he could never give me what I needed even if he wanted to.

“Why, Vienna?” he pushed. “And don’t say it’s because you’re tired of Travis and Hope’s antics—you’re too strong for them to break you.” His gaze flitted over my face. “Is it because your last engagement didn’t end so well? Owen might not have cheated on you, but he did betray your trust by hurting you the way he did.”

“This has nothing to do with Owen.” But I wasn’t going to tell Dane the truth of why I wanted out, so I gave him another truth. “I’m sick of lying to the people I care about, Dane. Sick of living a lie. I didn’t anticipate just how hard this was going to be, and that’s on me.”

He narrowed his eyes. “There’s more to it than that.”

Motherfucking warlock.

“You clearly don’t feel ready to let go of your anger yet, but ask yourself honestly—do you think I lied to you about the pictures? Do you think that was one big bullshit story I just told you?”

I wanted to say yes. I wanted to say that his story didn’t add up or something. But I’d have been lying, and he’d have known that. I licked my lips and took a long breath. “No.”

“But you still want to walk out, don’t you?”

I gave a slow nod.

“Why, Vienna? Tell me.”

He was such a tenacious bastard. Knowing he wasn’t going to drop it, I decided to give him an understated version of the truth. “It bothered me a lot more than I thought it would.”

“What?”

“The thought of you with another woman.”

He frowned. “You think the thought of you with another man doesn’t bother me?”

“I don’t know, Dane. I just know that this whole situation is a lot more complicated than I’d expected it would be. I’m not a runner. I face things head-on, but … Look, I don’t think I’m the best person to play the part of your wife.”

“You’re the only person who I’d want to play it. We’ve come this far. No matter what shit went on around us, we forged ahead. We have to do that again now, Vienna, because I can’t let you walk out. You knew I wouldn’t.”

I’d known he wouldn’t let me go without a fight, because I was really his last hope of getting his hands on his trust fund. He didn’t have enough time to do the whole fake relationship thing with someone else—not if he wanted to make it seem realistic. Especially since he’d be expected to take a break between our “divorce” and the beginning of another relationship. He’d be forced to elope again and, yes, it would definitely look fake.

He reached out and cupped the side of my neck. “I need you, Vienna. I need you to trust me when I say I didn’t break my word. I need you to stay on board. You said you were in this until the end,” he reminded me.

I had, and I’d meant it. But now … now, well, nothing had really changed, had it? Because I did believe he hadn’t broken his word. Which meant he hadn’t really done anything to deserve my anger. I was directing it at the wrong person.

I was also being a little unfair. Whoever sent those pictures wanted to break us up. They could have as easily followed me around and took photos of me that would seem incriminating. If they had, I would have wanted Dane to hear me out. No, I’d have expected that he’d have had the common decency to hear me out. And if I’d properly explained the truth of the photographs but he’d still doubted my word or wanted to walk out on me, I’d have been pissed. Not to mention hurt that he’d think so little of me.

Dane wasn’t angry with me, though. He wasn’t telling me to be rational or to cut him a break. He was being uncharacteristically patient and understanding. And me? I was playing right into the hands of the person who sent the flash drive. They’d wanted to hurt me, and I’d let them have that power. Which was utterly stupid.

But wouldn’t it be just as stupid to stick around when I was clearly in far too deep with him? Wouldn’t it make much more sense to leave now? Or would that just be cowardly?

I’d never thought of myself as a coward. But as I stood there weighing whether or not to walk out on him, which would mean not only breaking my word but leaving the guy in the lurch, I felt somewhat gutless. My mother was the one who ran; who always put her own needs first and didn’t give a shit how her actions affected others.

Dane gently brushed my bangs aside. “When I can prove it was her, I will make Heather pay for this.”

I blinked. “Heather?”

His brows hiked up. “You think it’s a coincidence that I sent incriminating pictures to Thad’s wife—ruining Heather’s relationship with him in the process—and then you’re sent a flash drive on which there are photos of me that appear at first glance to be equally incriminating?”

Actually, I hadn’t made the connection. It would indeed seem like one massive unlikely coincidence. Still … “I can see why you’d think it was her, but this is not Heather’s style. She doesn’t do ‘low-key.’ She’d come to o-Verve and toss printouts of the pictures on my desk. She’d want us both to know how clever she was in finding you out. She’d want to see the hurt on my face; want others in the building to hear that you were screwing around on me.”

“Not if she feared dealing with blowback from me. This way, she got to hurt you without suffering the consequences—she’d prefer that over backing down completely. I’ll bet she’s at her parents’ house right now, expecting you to turn up any second in tears carrying a suitcase full of your things. She wouldn’t want to miss the show. Heather can’t stand the thought of you being happy. She wants to ruin this for you. She tried to convince me to leave you, but it didn’t work, so she decided to try to make you leave me.”

It made sense, and yet I wasn’t sure I agreed Heather was the mastermind. It could have as easily been one of the other people so intent on coming between me and Dane.

I sighed and dropped my head, so fucking tired of people trying to play me in one way or another. And, of course, they were no doubt counting on that, the bastards.

Dane stepped closer and palmed my nape. “I swear to you, Vienna, if you’d asked me where I’d been those nights, I’d have told you. I just didn’t think you cared.”

That made my throat ache all over again. I doubted he thought anyone would care much about what went on in his life, not even his relatives. The Davenports weren’t a family in the truest sense of the word. I’d have cared where he’d been, but I’d given him no reason to assume that, so he wasn’t at fault for thinking differently.

He also wasn’t at fault for someone having sent me that flash drive, and it was time I stopped making Dane pay for their actions. I was better than that. And I wasn’t going to give them what they wanted and walk out on him.

As if sensing my capitulation, he slowly and carefully took the suitcase from my hand. “Let’s take this back up to your room. Yes?”

My shoulders drooping, I lifted my head and nodded. “Okay,” I whispered.

He squeezed my nape and pressed a kiss to my temple. “That’s my girl.”

No, I wasn’t his girl. Which was part of my problem, but that wasn’t his fault either.

Dane shepherded me up the stairs and into my room. He helped me unpack my case, and I wondered if he wanted to ensure that I couldn’t dash out with it the moment his back was turned.

Although I wasn’t feeling all that hungry, I let him talk me into joining him downstairs after I’d changed into my sweats. We mostly ate our dinner in silence, but it wasn’t an awkward silence; wasn’t filled with things left unsaid.

Afterward, he took my hand and said, “Come on.”

I frowned. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer. He simply led me outside, past the patio and pool, and over to the wooded area behind it. He tugged me through a slim, easy-to-miss opening in the tall hedges. I felt my mouth drop open as we stepped into a water woodland garden. There was a Japanese-style bridge, pretty waterfall, artfully weathered sculptures, decorative stones, flowering trees, and vividly colorful flowers.

Tucked within the grove of trees, it was cut off from the rest of the lavish landscape, making it feel like a secret pixie garden. It was so cozy and restful and Zen-like. A place where someone even as stoic as Dane could unwind and just shut off for a while.

“This is amazing,” I said.

“Yes, it is.” He tugged me over to a bench that was positioned within a vine-covered arch. He sat down and patted the spot beside him in invitation.

I lowered myself to the bench, finding it surprisingly comfy. I glanced around once more, only then noticing the gnarled, moss-covered tree and the elegant water fountain. “I could sit out here for hours and just … be. Or read.”

“Feel free to come out here whenever you like.” He curled his arm around me and drew me closer, so I rested my head on his shoulder. It wasn’t wise to be close to him like this, but I’d lecture myself about it tomorrow.

He didn’t talk or even pull out his cell phone. He just sat there, silent but so solid. Again, there was nothing awkward about the silence. It was more like we were both just absorbing the peaceful atmosphere around us.

Lulled by the floral, earthy scents and the relaxing tinkle of the small waterfall, it wasn’t long before tiredness settled over me—that emotional rollercoaster ride had taken a lot out of me. Closing my eyelids, I leaned a little more into Dane, knowing and not caring that I’d fall asleep right there. Fingertips danced up and down my arm, surprisingly relaxing, and I soon drifted off.

The fog of sleep thinned slightly when I sensed myself be lifted. My eyelids briefly fluttered open, and I saw that dusk had almost fallen. I was cradled against Dane’s chest, and he was walking. Drained and relaxed, I didn’t move a muscle; just let him carry me, my mind so hazy the whole thing felt very dreamlike.

I barely stirred when I felt myself be lowered to the bed. I was too tired to even open my eyes. The weight of the soft coverlet came over me, and I almost let out a contented sigh.

Fingers brushed my hair out of my face, and a warm mouth grazed my temple. “You should have known better than to think I’d so easily let you go,” he whispered, the words so low and soft I barely caught them.

I felt something flick my engagement ring, adjusting its position, and then footsteps padded out of the room. Sleep tightened its grip on me and swept me under yet again.