​Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Well, this was different.

Feeling somewhat befuddled, I stood in the doorway of the kitchen the next morning and just stared at my fake husband. Not once in the entire time I’d lived here had I come downstairs to find him cooking breakfast for us. There were occasions when we’d sort of “crossed paths” in the kitchen and so we’d eaten toast or cereal or Danish pastries at the same time. But neither of us had ever prepared food for the other in the morning. Until now.

I wasn’t complaining. It smelled so good, and I was famished. But, yeah, it made me a little suspicious. Perhaps that just meant I was cynical. I supposed I’d soon find out.

As if sensing me, Dane glanced over his shoulder. “Morning.”

“Morning.”

He tipped his chin at the island. “Sit,” he invited and then went back to plating the food.

I crossed to the island and slid onto a stool. There was a mug of steaming coffee waiting for me, along with cutlery. How solicitous. And very un-Dane-like.

He set two plates down on the island that were topped with eggs, bacon, sausages, toast, and breakfast potatoes. My brows lifted. He’d gone all out.

“Thank you,” I said, picking up my cutlery.

He sat on the stool opposite me. “Sleep well?”

“I did, thanks. You?”

He shrugged and dug into his food.

I did the same and, damn, it was good. One thing I’d learned about Dane was that he knew his way around the kitchen. He was competent at so many things; it made me feel a little inadequate. I’d have been able to better enjoy the meal if it weren’t for the nagging feeling in my gut that this apparent good deed wouldn’t be “free.”

Halfway through my meal, I asked, “Okay, what is it that you want from me? I’d rather just know now.”

He lifted his mug. “I must have an ulterior motive if I cooked us breakfast?”

“You generally don’t do things out of the goodness of your heart,” I pointed out. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that you cooked, no matter why you did it. I’d just prefer to know now what it is that you’re after.”

“All I want is for you to finish your breakfast.” He took a sip of his coffee and then went back to his meal.

Still uneasy, I nonetheless turned my attention back to my food. No matter what the dude said, I was quite sure this wasn’t merely a kind or courteous gesture. Maybe he’d done this to soften me up. It was possible he worried I might still be too upset to stay; that he thought trying his hand at being “nice” would make me less likely to walk. Dane’s motivations sometimes only made sense to him.

Feeling his eyes on me, I looked up to see him studying me over the rim of his mug. I frowned and swallowed the last of my eggs. “What?”

“You should invite your family to come here for dinner one night.”

He … he wanted people to come to his house? This was new. “Why?”

“Because you miss them.” He put down his mug. “You went from visiting them often to barely seeing them. Why?”

“They kept asking if something was ‘wrong at home’ because I visited them so frequently; they thought you and me might be having problems, especially since you didn’t go with me to see them.”

His brow furrowed. “I was with you when you last saw your foster parents, and the last two occasions you visited Simon.”

“Yes, and they watched us like hawks the whole time, looking for clues that our marriage might be on the rocks already.”

“That’s all the more reason to invite them here. They need to see that everything is fine.”

But things didn’t feel fine. Not when I was now aware of just how easily this man could hurt me. The crush had allowed for a degree of emotional separation. I didn’t have that anymore; he’d penetrated my defenses, and the strong sense of possessiveness I felt shook me up.

In general, I struggled to lower my guard around people. I was too wary, too distrustful. It didn’t matter how nice a guy was, I always seemed to be waiting for him to mess up. I hated that about myself; hated that I expected people to hurt me. It wasn’t fair to them.

Dane wasn’t sweet or cuddly or kind, and I suspected that that was why he’d been able to slip around my defenses. I hadn’t expected him to be a real threat to them, so I hadn’t been fully on my guard. I’d pretty much handed him the power to hurt me on a silver fucking platter, and it sucked large.

“I don’t know how good I’d be at convincing my family that all is ‘fine.’” It wasn’t just that I was so emotionally off-balance; it was that I was somewhat pettily pissed that I was the only one having this emotional crisis. If he’d been sent incriminating pictures of me, he’d have been angry that I might have broken my word, but he wouldn’t have felt any of the black jealousy that had slithered through me last night.

“Why is that?”

“Having people play games all the time is starting to get to me,” I fudged. “I think it would affect my … performance, shall we say?”

“Performance?” he echoed, a dark note in his tone.

I pushed my empty plate aside and shrugged one shoulder. “Isn’t that what we do? Perform?”

“Hmm.” He pinned me with that hunter stare, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. He edged off the stool and crossed to me, never once moving his eyes from mine. “Tell me.”

I felt my brows draw together. “What?”

“Tell me what’s on your mind. Don’t say nothing. You were fine until you received the flash drive—and once I can prove Heather was behind it, I will make her pay. Now you look like you’re carrying a heavy weight on your shoulders.”

There were times when I really despised how perceptive he was. Like seriously despised it.

“You said you believed my explanation of those photographs,” he went on. “Was that the truth?”

“Yes. I believe you.”

“Then what is it that’s bothering you?”

“Like I said, having people play games with us is getting to me. I’m tired of it.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

Dane put his face closer to mine. “I don’t believe you,” he whispered. “Something’s wrong, and it’s connected to that flash drive. We’re doing enough lying to the outside world, Vienna. We can’t bullshit each other as well; we need to be on the same page. Last night, you said you need me to be straight with you when it counts. I will be. You have my word on that. I told you everything you wanted to know. Now, I need you to be straight with me.”

Did he have to be so rational and fair? “I already told you last night.”

“You mentioned that the lying is getting to you. But I know that you’d rather be lying to your family than be asking them to partake in the deception, so that can’t be what’s weighing on you.” His gaze turned inward, as if he was deep in thought. Then those dark eyes snapped back to the present. “You don’t like how much the photos got to you,” he remembered.

“No, I don’t.”

He carefully shackled my left wrist and lifted my hand. He looked at the rings, his eyes glinting with something I couldn’t quite name. “You see these as props. They might not have the same meaning to us that they have to other married couples, but they’re not meaningless. In a sense, they represent the agreement we made that night in your old apartment. If I’d thought you’d betrayed my trust like you thought I’d betrayed yours, I’d have been just as pissed as you were—if not more.”

His eyes darkened as he tightened his grip on my wrist. “And if I’d thought you’d let another man fuck you, I wouldn’t have been anywhere near as calm as you were last night,” he said, his voice pitched low and deep. “I wouldn’t have been in the mood to talk and ask questions. All I’d have wanted to do is hunt the bastard down and beat the living shit out of him. He’d have been pissing blood for a fucking week. For as long as you wear these rings, you’re mine; no other man has the right to touch you. I’d never fucking allow it.”

I swallowed, downright blown away by the possession blazing in his eyes. “And the ring on your finger?”

“Says I’m off-limits just the same. There’s no gray area here—no other man touches you; no other woman touches me. So bear all this in mind if someday soon you think you’ve met the man who’ll make the perfect husband. I wouldn’t let you wriggle out of our deal. I wouldn’t let him have you. And I wouldn’t feel in the least bit remorseful about holding you to me. Does that make me a selfish asshole? Yes, without a doubt. But you already knew that about me.” He nipped the heel of my palm and then released my hand.

I stared at him, somewhat appeased to realize I wasn’t the only one feeling a little territorial. It was nice that I wasn’t going through the struggle all by myself; it made me feel not quite so pathetic.

“Call Simon and your foster parents at some point today. Invite them to come here for dinner one night.” He lifted a brow. “Okay?”

I gave a slow nod. “Okay.”

He squeezed the side of my neck. “Finish your coffee. Sam will be here soon.”

Melinda adjusted the cushion behind her. “How are the plans coming along for the reception?”

“Great,” I said, snuggled into Dane on the other sofa. I was bloated after the three-course meal we’d had, courtesy of him. I’d helped him prep the meal here and there, but he did the bulk of the cooking. “Chris and Miley are totally on the ball, and they keep us up to date on every little thing.”

“They are very efficient, aren’t they? And so nice. Have you picked up your dress yet?”

I shook my head. “I have my final fitting next month.”

“I’m looking forward to finally seeing this dress,” said Dane, his arm loosely curved around my neck, his fingers threaded through mine so that our joined hands hung near my collarbone. “Chris is constantly telling me that I’m going to love it.”

Chris was constantly telling me that Dane was going to want to rip it off me. “You’re not getting a sneak preview. You’ll have to wait until the reception.”

“I don’t like to wait.”

“You’re kidding,” I said dryly.

Simon chuckled. “Yeah, we noticed that about you when you proposed to her and married her all in the space of two days. I really can’t wait for the reception.” He leaned forward in the armchair to set his empty mug on the coffee table. His gaze drifted to the wedding photo that we’d framed and hung on the wall. “I do love that picture.”

“Me, too,” said Melinda, her eyes bright. “I show my copy to everyone who visits.”

“She’s not exaggerating,” Wyatt told me, sitting beside her. “Every person who walks through the door is guided right over to it.”

Melinda lifted her chin. “You do the same thing, Wyatt, and you know it. Oh by the way, Vienna, my sisters promised they’d come to the reception. They’re looking forward to seeing you again and meeting Dane.” She looked at him and explained, “My sisters live in Oregon with their families. I was born there, too, but I moved here with Wyatt when we were in our early twenties. We originally planned to move to Australia with his brother and parents, but I couldn’t handle the snakes and spiders.”

A nostalgic smile curved Wyatt’s mouth. “The first time we went to visit my family in Australia, my brother warned us to always tip our shoes upside down before putting them on, just to be sure there were no spiders in them. He said he’d never found anything in his own shoes, but it was best to check. I was in the bathroom one morning when I heard Melinda scream. There’d been a spider in her shoe. She was so convinced it might have laid eggs in there that she threw it in the trash.”

“You can never be too careful,” said Melinda.

“After that, she wrapped her shoes in clingfilm every night before getting into bed, just to be sure nothing could crawl in them.”

“The spider was as big as my fist, Dane.”

Shaking his head, Wyatt put his thumb and forefinger an inch or so apart. “Tiny,” he mouthed.

Melinda, oblivious, added, “And it was hairy and had big fat legs.”

Again, Wyatt shook his head. “Lies,” he mouthed.

Simon chuckled. “I caught Vienna playing with spiders a few times when she was little; she liked them. But she hated beetles.”

“Still do. Have you ever stood on one? That horrible crunching sound it makes …” I shuddered. “Can’t stand the things.” I looked at my dauntless boss. “I don’t suppose you’re creeped out by insects, are you?”

He shrugged. “They’re just creatures, same as us.”

“What about snakes?” asked Melinda.

He shook his head. “I’ve never been bothered by them.”

Well, of course not. They were agents of the devil.

“You must have at least one fear,” Melinda insisted. “Everybody fears something.”

He pursed his lips. “I do get uneasy whenever Vienna attempts to bake something.”

I gasped, bristling. “Hey!”

“You cook like a pro, baby girl, but the ability to bake somehow eludes you.”

Simon, the traitor, nodded. “He’s right. I’m sorry, sweetie, but he is.”

“Baking is a completely different ball game,” I defended, trying to pull away from Dane.

He tugged me closer using the arm he’d curved around my neck. “Don’t be mad,” he coaxed, all soft and sweet.

I sniffed, haughty. “I’m not mad.”

“Then why do you look like you want to scratch my eyes out?”

“I don’t need a reason.”

Melinda snorted. “While we’re on the subject of food, Heather’s booked a table at her favorite restaurant for her birthday next week.”

I expected Dane to tense at the mention of Heather, given how pissed he was that he hadn’t yet been able to prove she’d sent the flash drive, despite having looked into the matter earlier. But his body language remained completely relaxed.

“She hopes you’ll both be there,” Melinda added.

I highly doubted that Heather had any such hopes. “Her birthday falls on the Friday, right?”

“It does,” Melinda confirmed.

I gave her an apologetic look. “I’m afraid we can’t make it.” I really hoped no one could tell I was doing a happy dance in my head.

Dane nodded. “We leave for New York on Friday afternoon. We won’t be back until Sunday evening.”

“Is the trip for work or pleasure?” asked Simon.

Dane looked down at me, his eyes smiling. “We can ensure it’s a bit of both, can’t we?”

“We can,” I said.

“Please apologize to Heather for us,” he said to Melinda. “If we could cancel the trip, we would.”

Ha, pure lies.

“She’ll understand,” Melinda assured him. “You’ve been on business trips to New York before, right?”

I nodded. “I love the place. It’s hectic but so vibrant.”

“Do you ever get tired of traveling so often, Dane?” asked Wyatt. “I know it doesn’t bother Vienna.”

“I’m used to it,” Dane told him. “It’s simply part of the job.”

“I meant to ask you,” Simon cut in, “where did the name o-Verve come from?”

Dane’s fingers imperceptibly tightened on mine for the briefest moment. “It was one of many ideas,” he said, casual, but I sensed that he was feeling far from it. “My uncle and I tossed lots of them around.”

Melinda’s brows lifted. “Your uncle?”

“Yes, Hugh. My brothers and I lived with him for many years. He was a good man.” Dane looked down at me. “He’d have liked you.”

“From everything you’ve told me about him, I’m sure I’d have liked him,” I said.

The buzzer sounded.

Dane pulled out his phone and checked the camera feed through the security app. “It’s Kent and Jen.”

Again? I inwardly groaned. Which made me feel like shit, because it was good for Dane that his brother paid him regular visits. I just didn’t like being around Jen.

“Kent?” echoed Melinda. “That’s your brother, isn’t it, Dane?” She sat up straighter and adjusted her blouse. “Good, I was hoping to meet him at some point. Vienna said he’s very nice.”

Yeah, I’d forewarned my family that, with the exception of Kent, the rest of the Davenports weren’t terribly pleasant people, but I hadn’t gone into any real detail.

Dane dropped a kiss on my head and then left the den. Moments later, he returned with our visitors. Both Jen and Kent were polite and cordial as they introduced themselves to my family. Melinda looked from me to Jen, and I suspected she’d noticed that my greeting to the brunette wasn’t quite as welcoming as it was to Kent.

He flashed me a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. We didn’t realize you had company until we saw the cars in the courtyard.”

Melinda waved away the apology, even though it hadn’t been directed at her. “It’s no problem for us. I’ve been looking forward to meeting Dane’s family.” Shameless, she began to quiz the guy. How long had he and Jen been married? Did they live far from here? Did they have children? Would they be at the reception?

Kent easily answered her questions, thankfully not looking in the least bit bothered by her sheer nosiness. He was just as friendly toward Wyatt and Simon, talking with the same ease and grace that Dane often showed them. I wondered if the brothers had picked it up from Hugh and channeled their uncle on occasion.

Jen was just as affable, if not a little stiff at times … as if feeling somewhat awkward. I had to wonder if she thought I’d told my family about her bitchy behavior. She also kept watching my father like she expected him to turn into Mr. Hyde at any moment and start doing crazy shit, which pissed me off. I was worried he’d notice, so I was actually relieved when my family announced they needed to leave.

At the front door, I waved them off. Dane then slipped his arm around my waist and led me back into the den.

Kent cast me another sheepish smile. “I was happy to meet your father and foster parents, but I still really am sorry we intruded.”

“It’s not a problem,” I told him. “They were glad to finally meet you.”

“What brings you here?” Dane asked him.

“Two reasons,” replied Kent. “They’re not terribly important, but I didn’t want to bother you at work. One, I know you’re already married, but I was wondering if you’d be interested in a post-bachelor-party.”

I snickered. “Dane? Have a party? Oh, you’re funny.”

Dane frowned. “Not everyone’s a party person.”

“Hey, I’m not judging. I have to say, I’m surprised you even agreed to a wedding reception.” I turned back to Kent. “It was Melinda’s idea. I didn’t expect him to roll with it.”

Jen nodded. “Ah, it’s your way of apologizing to her family for eloping.”

“No,” said Dane. “I have no regrets about eloping, and I feel no need to apologize for making Vienna mine so fast.” He tightened his arm around me as he snared my gaze with his. “I want the reception because I want to celebrate the most important day of our lives.”

“We celebrated it plenty, as I recall,” I said with a suggestive note in my tone.

His mouth hiked up at the corner. “But I know you would have wanted a reception. Would have wanted the dress and the flowers and to share the day with the people you love. So I’m giving that to you. It’s important to me that you’re happy.”

Oh, he was so smooth and believable I almost bought it. “Thank you for being so kind and thoughtful.”

“I’m not kind or thoughtful. And you’re the only person who has ever implied differently.”

“Well, you’re nice to me. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone else. I wouldn’t dare shoot your badass rep to shit.”

“Good. Then I won’t tell people you bite your toenails.”

I gaped in horror. “I never bite my toenails.” I didn’t even like feet.

“I didn’t say you do it. But I will say that if you go around telling people I’m kind and thoughtful.”

I gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

“Probably,” I muttered. “Maybe you’re not so kind after all.”

“Glad we understand each other.” Dane cut his gaze back to his brother. “What’s the other reason you came?”

“I have to write a speech for a presentation I’m making next week,” replied Kent. “I was hoping you could read over it and give me a second opinion. Something about it is annoying me, but I can’t quite figure out what it is. I need a fresh pair of eyes.”

“I’ll take a look.”

“I have it on my phone.”

“You can read it to me while I make drinks. Coffee?” he asked me.

I shook my head. “I’m good, thanks.”

He lifted a brow at Jen in question.

She smiled. “Coffee would be great. Two sugars, no milk.”

Dane dropped a kiss on my mouth. “I’ll just be a minute.” He left the room with his brother.

I retook my seat on the sofa, which placed me across from Jen, who sat with her back so straight I would bet it ached.

Crossing one leg over the other, she pasted a smile on her face that didn’t reach her eyes. “Your family seems very nice.”

“They are. I’m lucky.”

She cleared her throat. “I asked your wedding planners if there was any way I could help with the preparations for the reception. They said to ask you.”

“The planners have it all covered, but it’s nice of you to offer.”

She squinted, watching me closely. “You don’t trust me not to sabotage anything,” she guessed.

“No, I don’t.” I saw no need to deny it. I wasn’t being a bitch; I just wasn’t going to insult my intelligence or hers by drumming up silly excuses.

“I suppose I can understand that. But I’m asking you to give me a chance. I just want to make up for what I did and said.”

“Why bother?” I asked without heat. “Let’s be honest here, or we’re not going to get past this. You don’t like me at all. I can feel it in every interaction we have, so why offer to help with the reception plans?”

“Dane isn’t just my brother-in-law, he’s my friend—he has been for a long time. He matters to me. He’s never been angry with me before. Now that he’s giving me the cold shoulder, everything feels … off.”

“You can’t really blame him for being mad at you.”

“I don’t blame him at all. This mess is on me, and I want to fix it. I want my friend back.”

“I don’t see that happening unless you shake off how determined you are to dislike me. It’s not really an issue for me, but it is for Dane. Put yourself in his position. I doubt you’d want to be around someone who so strongly disapproved of Kent.” Then again, maybe she wouldn’t care. In all the times I’d seen them together, they never behaved like a couple—there was no handholding or cuddling or even a tiny “spark,” but there was esteem there. Like they were close friends.

She frowned. “So I have to like you if I want him to forgive me? That’s hardly fair. We can’t always help who we do or don’t like.”

“We can if we’re finding reasons to dislike someone rather than giving them a chance,” I argued. “Look, you and I are never going to be BFFs. But we can at least be civil to each other. For his sake, if nothing else.”

“I can do ‘civil.’ Like I said, I want to fix my mess. But that can’t happen if you’re standing in the way.”

I felt my brow furrow. “How am I standing in the way?”

“I’m asking you to give me a chance to make up for what I did, but you won’t.”

“There are plenty of ways you could try to fix your fuckup,” I pointed out. “I won’t get in the way of them, but I also won’t trust you with plans for the reception. Find another way.”

“And you’ll support my friendship with Dane?” she challenged, folding her arms. “You won’t feel threatened by how close he and I are?”

Threatened? Was she serious? “I don’t think you two are quite as close as you’d like me to believe.”

“And why not?”

“Because people share their happy moments with those who are closest to them. He never called you to tell you about our engagement. He never called you when we stood outside the chapel. He didn’t even send you text messages. And I heard him tell you more than once that what you believe is irrelevant to him. That kind of says it all.” So it was downright insulting that she expected me to think differently.

Color rose in her face. “You just don’t like that he and I were once an item.”

“An item? Oh, Jenny, this shit’s just petty.”

“It’s Jen.”

“You and Dane slept together. Once. The end. Why do you want me to think it was more than that? I honestly don’t see what you’d get out of that on a personal level. Unless you have none-too-platonic feelings for him.”

Her eyes sparkled like chips of ice. “I’m married to his brother.”

But maybe she’d wanted to marry a different Davenport. Maybe she’d settled for Kent. Or maybe she just felt some sense of ownership over Dane due to their past one-night stand or long-term friendship.

“I love Kent,” she stated.

That didn’t necessarily mean she loved him as a wife should love her husband, or that she didn’t have feelings for Dane as well.

“I care for Dane, he’s family to me,” she added.

“Coming into his home and acting this way toward his wife—that’s not what family should do to family.”

Jen went to speak again, but then she stilled at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. She plastered a butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth expression on her face and let the tension leave her posture in a rush.

The brothers entered the den, talking amongst themselves.

She smiled sweetly at Dane when he handed her the cup of coffee. “Thanks, Dane.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. It seemed he wasn’t buying her act. He sank on the sofa, retaking his earlier spot beside me, and draped his arm over my shoulder. “You all right?”

I pouted and forced my lips to wobble. “No. Hold me.”

He gave me a droll look.

Kent’s mouth quirked. “I like that you don’t take him too seriously. He needs that. Who knows? You might even help him develop a sense of humor.”

Unlikely. “Let’s not expect miracles.”

“I have a sense of humor; I’m just not easily amused,” said Dane. “Unlike some people, who’ll laugh at the most inappropriate moments. Like during their wedding ceremony.”

The memory made my shoulders shake with silent laughter. “It wouldn’t have been half as funny if you weren’t so annoyed.”

“You still haven’t showed me the video of the ceremony,” Kent said to him.

Dane pulled his cell out of his pocket. “I downloaded it onto my phone.”

I blinked. He did? I’d saved it on my laptop, but not my phone. I honestly figured Dane would have stuck the thumb drive in a draw somewhere and shoved the recording from his mind once he’d showed it to the relevant people.

Taking the phone, Kent scooted closer to Jen on the sofa. As they watched the video, he snorted and chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. Jen actually smiled, amused in spite of herself.

Kent handed the cell back to his brother. “God, Dane, your expression was priceless.”

Dane pocketed his phone. “Hmm.”

“Well, it’ll be something to show the grandkids,” said Kent.

It was only by sheer force of will that I didn’t drop my smile. There’d be no kids, no grandkids. Not for me and Dane. I’d be gone in under twelve months. That was almost as sad as the thought of him living in this big house alone, year after year, growing older and older.

I could only hope that, unlike with Hugh, loneliness never eventually struck Dane. I didn’t want him to live with regrets. I didn’t want him feeling alone and empty, even if that meant he never once regretted our upcoming divorce.

After Kent and Jen drove through the security gates a short while later, Dane closed the front door and turned to me. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me nothing. You were good at hiding it from them, but something’s bothering you.”

I was still feeling a little down at the thought of our inevitable divorce. I wouldn’t only leave this house, I’d leave o-Verve … and I’d probably never see Dane again.

“Did Jen say something to you?” he pushed. “Did she upset you? You didn’t look upset when I walked back into the den, but she was wearing her ‘I’m so innocent’ expression. What did she say?”

“Nothing upsetting. She just wants to fix the ‘mess’ she made,” I answered vaguely, not seeing the sense in making things worse between them by adding what a tool she’d been.

“And?”

“And she was hoping I’d let her do that by involving her in the plans for the reception. I suggested she find another way of making it up to you.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What else?”

“Nothing interesting.”

He stepped into my personal space, which he did far too often these days, the bold bastard. “Vienna, tell me the rest.”

I sighed. “She was just being petty, making out like you guys are super close and were once an ‘item.’ I suggested that she stop being so insistent on disliking me and try being civil. You never know, she might actually follow my advice.”

“So, if it wasn’t Jen that upset you, what did? We’re being straight with each other from here on out, remember. So tell me.”

“You’ll just say I’m being stupid.”

He frowned. “I would never call you stupid.”

I blew out a breath. “Okay. Fine. When Kent made the throwaway comment about how the video would be something to show the grandkids, I got to thinking how there wouldn’t be any for you; that you’d forever be here in this massive house all alone. It made me sad to think of you being on your own year after year. Which is silly, I know, because you want that for yourself, so go on: tell me I’m being stupid.”

His steely, dark eyes began to soften, and his frown slowly smoothed away. “Vienna,” he whispered with a sigh, palming the back of my head. His gaze dropped to my mouth and heated. Darkened. Glittered.

I drew in an unsteady breath as the air snapped taut. My stomach twisted, and my nerves went haywire. I felt my pulse quicken. Felt excitement flare low in my stomach.

He stood very still, his nostrils flaring, his muscles tight. It was clear to see he was wrestling with himself. It seemed that common sense prevailed, because he lowered his hand and took a step back. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed.

I grasped onto an inane subject in an effort to douse the sexual tension. “Anyway, I’d say the meal with my family went well. They didn’t seem worried about us when they left.”

He tilted his head. “You told them not to ask me about my parents, didn’t you?”

Busted. “Only because I knew they would—it’s a mundane question that most see as harmless. I just said it was a sensitive subject for you, the same way I asked you not to mention Corrine or his mother to Simon. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

His face went soft and languid, but then all emotion seeped from his eyes, and his expression was once again hard. “You need to be careful, Vienna.”

“Careful?”

“I’m a very selfish being. If you keep being so sweet, I’ll get used to it, and I might not want to lose it. Then we’ll both be in trouble.” With that, he walked away, leaving me standing in the middle of the foyer with my mouth open wide.

Yeah, he was definitely going to drive me to drink.