Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

So now, what?

Sitting upright in bed the next morning, I nibbled on my thumbnail. I’d woken up alone. I honestly couldn’t say whether Dane had slept beside me. For all I knew, he cleaned himself up and then went straight to his own bed. It was the first time in my life that I’d fallen asleep right after sex.

Then again, it was also the first time someone kept my body hanging on the edge of an orgasm for so long that my eventual release drained every bit of energy from me.

Did I regret last night? Not even a little. And I probably wouldn’t regret it if it happened again, to be honest. After all, I’d already crossed emotional lines with him. There’d be no reversing that for as long as he was around. So the idea of taking what I could get and making some delicious memories didn’t seem so bad.

However, there was a chance that Dane was now regretting last night. It was the “not knowing” that made anxiety curdle in my stomach.

Did I go out there and act like nothing had happened? Did I make a glib comment about it to dispel any awkwardness? Would he even feel awkward?

Unlikely.

Nothing seemed to make Dane feel uncomfortable. I just hoped he didn’t plan to treat me to a “it was a mistake” talk. It would be no different than a slap across the face.

Deciding to go ahead with my morning ritual, I went straight to the bathroom, did my business, and took a hot shower. A bath would have been better, since I was a little sore from last night, but I didn’t have the time. I’d do it later, when I was back at home. Well, Dane’s home.

I wrapped a plush towel around me, opened the door, and took a step into the bedroom. I stopped dead, tensing. Dane—fully dressed and looking as hot as ever—stood a few feet away.

If this had happened yesterday morning, I’d have ushered him out of my room with a horrified squeak. But after last night, I felt off-balance and unsure of where I stood.

His dark gaze bore into mine, giving away nothing. Literally nothing. There was no heat, no emotion, no gleam of … anything. “The museum opens in an hour,” he said.

I blinked. That was pretty much the last thing I’d expected him to say. “I’m sorry?”

“You said you wanted to go to the Natural History Museum while we’re here.”

“I do.” But our day had been so hectic yesterday that I hadn’t had time to spare, so I hadn’t bothered to bring the subject up.

“If we leave here soon, we can spend a few hours there before we fly home,” he said, not sounding in the least bit enthusiastic about it. But he was willing to go with me anyway. I might have read something into it if he hadn’t agreed to this prior to our trip.

I cleared my throat, still feeling stupidly awkward. “Okay. Great. Thanks.”

Amusement lit his eyes, and one corner of his mouth hiked up.

“What’s funny?”

He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Be fast.” As he turned toward the door, his eyes flicked to the nightstand. “Don’t forget your rings.”

Watching him walk out of the room, I took a steadying breath. Well it was safe to say that, as I’d anticipated, he didn’t feel awkward. It also seemed that we weren’t going to address what happened last night, which suggested that he might well regret it.

Disappointment sat heavy in my stomach. And I realized a tiny part of me had held some pointless hope that last night was the beginning of something. It was the same tiny part of me that had gotten us into this entire freaking situation by making a deal with the devil. So, yeah, that “tiny part” was absolutely fucking stupid—there was no question about it.

He might have been so brazen as to waltz into my room uninvited like it was his right, but there’d been no morning kiss, no eye-fuck, no touching—hell, he hadn’t even wished me agood morning. So it was abundantly clear that nothing between us had changed. I had to accept that they never would.

Shaking off my dull thoughts, I quickly got ready to leave and packed my small suitcase. After placing my luggage near the front door beside his own, I headed to the dining area to grab something from the spread of breakfast foods on the table.

Dane was nowhere to be seen. His empty cup and plate told me he’d already eaten.

I poured myself a coffee, nabbed a few Danish pastries, and took a seat at the table. I was halfway through the last Danish when he appeared. And I immediately felt awkward again.

He lifted a brow. “Ready?”

I pushed away from the table. “Yep,” I replied, going for casual.

That glint of amusement was back in his eyes, as was the odd little curve to his mouth.

I frowned. “Is something funny?”

He shook his head, but that secret smile didn’t dim.

We left our luggage with the concierge on the understanding that we’d collect it in a few hours when we were on our way to the airport.

Walking around the museum with Dane was much like it had been when we strolled around the zoo. At first, he showed little to no interest in his surroundings. But bit by bit, that changed. And, although I suspected he’d rather swallow glass than admit it, he did actually enjoy himself. Well, to an extent anyway.

He didn’t once bring up last night—not even to say that there couldn’t be a repeat of it. He behaved perfectly normally; didn’t touch me any more or less than usual. It was honestly as if nothing had happened between us. I supposed that was because it had been of no significance to him. Damn if that didn’t chafe.

He behaved just as normally on the flight home. We didn’t talk much, as per usual. He mostly worked, and I mostly read.

Finally back at the estate, I let out a long sigh as I stood in the foyer. Despite my efforts to fight it, I’d began to think of the place as “home.” And I’d missed it. It had become my safe zone; somewhere I could fully relax.

“I have a conference call soon,” Dane declared. “So I probably won’t eat dinner until late. Don’t wait for me.”

Oh, we were back to that, were we? Ugh. “No problem,” I said, aloof.

I headed up the stairs and went straight to my room, somewhat annoyed that he seemed intent on putting space between us again. Fine. Whatever. It wasn’t as if I cared.

God, I hated it when I tried bullshitting myself.

I quickly unpacked, none-too-gently returning each of my things back to their original place. After bagging up my laundry, I tried calling my father. The call went to voicemail, so I dialed Melinda’s number instead.

She answered after a few rings. “Hello?”

“Hi, how are you?”

“Good, thanks, honey. I take it you’re back from New York.”

I frowned. There was an odd note in her voice that I couldn’t quite interpret. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course. Wyatt and I are doing fine. I paid your dad a visit yesterday; he’s fine, too. I also spoke with Maggie for a few minutes at one point; she confirmed that all is good with him. Oh, and Heather’s birthday meal was a lot of fun. Such a shame you couldn’t be there. The food was amazing.”

“That’s great,” I said, conscious that Melinda had quickly taken over the conversation before I could question her further. “But something is wrong. What?”

“Nothing,” she replied, the word loaded with a little too much innocence. “How was your flight?”

“Melinda, you are the worst liar ever. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She sighed. “I can’t talk about it right now,” she said, lowering her voice. So, what, she didn’t want Wyatt to overhear? Or was it that she had visitors? “I promise you that everyone is fine,” she added. “But, well, there’s something you should know. I’ll come see you at o-Verve tomorrow, okay? Take care, hon.” Then she hung up.

I stared at the phone, unease trickling through me. I wanted to call her again and demand answers, but there was no sense in it if she didn’t feel comfortable talking about this “something” in front of Wyatt.

What could possibly have happened while I was gone? Could it have something to do with Heather? Had she come clean to Melinda about Junior’s father and told her that Dane had threatened to expose Heather’s secret? Possibly. I wouldn’t put it past the heifer to confess everything to her mother while crying fake tears—feigning regret and self-hatred—and then making Dane out to be a cold, dangerous bastard. Especially since she could claim I was in on it.

I turned to the door, needing to warn Dane. But then I halted. There was no sense in getting him all wound up about Heather again when I might be wrong. For all I knew, this could have nothing to do with her at all. This could be a completely unrelated matter. And I knew the whole thing would play on my mind all evening.

The phone in my hand began to ring. Simon. I answered with a smile, “Hey Dad.”

“Sorry I missed your call, sweetheart, I was in the shower.”

“No worries. How’re things with you?”

We chatted for a while and, satisfied that he was indeed fine, I ended the call on a promise to visit him soon. Hungry, I headed downstairs to the kitchen and ate dinner alone—such fun.

I also stuck the magnet I’d brought from the museum onto the refrigerator. A magnet that, like the one from the zoo, Dane had bought me with a put-out look on his face.

Deciding to finally have that bath I’d earlier yearned for, I returned to my room, and went into the attached bathroom. I stripped naked while I waited for the water to reach the right level. That done, I scooped my hair up into a high messy knot and sank into the hot water.

Leaning back in the tub, I let out a long sigh and closed my eyes. The heat together with the scent of the lavender bubble bath was heavenly. It wasn’t until now, as the stiffness began to seep from my muscles, that I realized just how tense I’d been.

I lazed there for a while, not asleep but in a sort of hazy state that gave me an escape from the questions that had pricked at me since my conversation with Melinda. A state that was free of thoughts and stress and worries.

A sound snapped me out of it, causing my eyelids to flutter open. I stilled at the sight of Dane striding into the room. The fuck?

I hadn’t locked the door purely because it hadn’t occurred to me that he’d ever so boldly enter. He’d never done it before.

I sank deeper into the bubbles—many of which had melted into the water, so there wasn’t much to conceal my body. “What are you doing in here?”

He crouched beside the tub, casual as ever, and braced his arms over the edge. He’d rolled up his sleeves and opened the top few buttons of his shirt, just as he often did in his office. “I came to find you,” he replied.

“I’m kind of having a bath right now.”

“I noticed.” He dipped his fingers into the water and frowned. “It’s barely lukewarm, how long have you been in here?”

“A while.” I was about to suggest he leave, but then he rested his warm hand on my thigh where it peeked out of the water; his fingertips whispered over the sensitive skin of my inner thigh—it was such a simple touch, and yet I almost shivered.

“Chris called me. He said he tried calling you but didn’t get an answer. He wanted to know why we’d decided to cancel the reception.”

Huh? I gave my head a little shake. “I’m confused. Who told him that?”

“The hotel employee he’s been coordinating with over the reception plans. The employee said you called the hotel claiming you wanted to cancel it.”

I knifed up. “What?” Feeling cool air dance over my breasts, I realized they were now above the water level. I sank back down into the tub. “I didn’t call the hotel.”

“I know that. The employee thought the whole thing was odd, especially since you’d been communicating through Chris and Miley up until then, so he called Chris to check if maybe you’d made the call while drunk and upset.”

“Motherfucker,” I muttered. “It had to have been either Hope or Heather.”

“Or some random woman that was put up to it by either Travis or Owen.”

“Owen?”

“It’s possible. It was obvious by his behavior at the zoo that he hasn’t given up hope that he can come between us. Forget about it for now. I’ll look into it more tomorrow.” Dane pulled my thigh toward the edge of the tub and slid his hand further down.

I stilled, and my pussy clenched. “Dane—”

“I need you to tell me something,” he said, stroking over the spot on my inner thigh where he bit me last night. “And I need you to be honest.”

“What?” I rasped, unsure if I wanted him to stop or keep going.

“Are you sore?”

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t go easy on you last night. I took you hard.” He danced his fingertips over the folds of my pussy. “I want to know if you’re sore.”

I swallowed, resisting the urge to buck into his hand. “A little.”

“Hmm.” Dane pulled out the plug and stood. “You need to get out of this water before it gets any colder.” He grabbed the soft towel I’d placed nearby and held it wide open in invitation.

I kind of just sat there, unsure what to make of his behavior.

“I haven’t got all night, baby girl. You suddenly shy?”

No, I was plain confused. Nonetheless, I stood. Ignoring the way his gaze roamed over me, I stepped onto the bathmat. He wrapped the towel around me and began to gently pat me dry. Okay, this was getting weird. Not that I didn’t like it. This behavior just wasn’t very Dane-like.

I eyed him curiously, wishing I knew what thoughts were going through his head right at that moment. Of course, he noticed me watching him. That damn secret smile curved his mouth again.

I narrowed my eyes. “What’s so amusing? You keep looking at me like you’re internally laughing at me. Like you know something I don’t.”

He dipped his head to kiss my neck. “You smell good.” His tongue flicked out and lashed my pulse. “Taste good, too.”

I went to speak, but then he took my mouth, greedy and ruthless and dominant—making my thoughts scatter and my body melt into his.

He hummed and broke the kiss. “I’m not going to fuck you tonight. Not when you’re sore. But I am going to make you come.”

Was I supposed to object? Well, I didn’t.

He carried me into the bedroom, ordered me to lay down flat on the bed, and ate my pussy like there was a freaking award for it. As I lay there afterward—sated, shaking, and boneless—he knelt over me and pumped his cock. The first rope of white, hot come that erupted out of him landed on my breasts. He kept pumping, covering my flesh in his come, until he was fully spent.

Masculine possession gleamed in his eyes. “You make a very pretty picture right now.” He curved his body over mine and took my mouth in a deep, lazy kiss that made my toes curl. “So sweet.” He dipped a finger in his come and then painted my lower lip with it. “It’s a shame you can’t wear me on your mouth every day. I’d never get any fucking work done if you did.”

I licked up the drop of come, inwardly smiling when his pupils dilated.

“Next time, you’ll drink it all down. Every last bit of it.”

After using a wet cloth to clean me up—he insisted on doing it himself—he urged me to get under the bedcovers and then slid in beside me.

“You’re staying?” I asked in an unintentionally shy whisper.

He shrugged one shoulder and drew me to his side. “I sleep better in this bed. As a bonus, you’ll be right there when I want to fuck you in the morning.”

Yeah, that was a definite bonus. So I snuggled into him and closed my eyes.