Where the Sun Hides (Seasons of Betrayal #1)(43)
But Violet … there was a fire in her, a burning passion that he wanted to ignite further, just to see what would happen. He wanted to see her come alive beneath his hands.
It was dangerous, not just her, but the implications of what would come if anyone found out about this.
This could no longer be considered innocent.
And with what he planned to do to her, it definitely wouldn’t be.
Sliding in the truck, Kaz buckled up, the lights on the dash illuminating the dark interior as he started it up. Violet was turned in his direction, her expression open, her eyes seeking an answer that he wasn’t quite ready to give.
They had only been driving for a short while when that expression changed as she said, “This isn’t the way to Manhattan.”
He couldn’t quite contain the smirk that was fighting its way free. “No, it isn’t.”
She grew quiet again, making Kaz glance over in her direction. “You can always say no. I’ll take you home right now, and we’ll never have to talk about this again,” he said. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he would if she asked it of him. Right then, he’d give her anything she wanted.
“I’ve wondered what your place looked like,” she murmured, like the comment was more to herself than for him.
That was the only answer he needed, and more was what was left unspoken between them. He wasn’t the only one to receive warnings, he was sure, so she was taking just as much of a risk coming to Little Odessa with him as he was. Violet was trusting him, believing that he would not only keep her safe, but ensure that no one would catch them together.
Kaz wouldn’t break that.
The rest of the drive was spent in silence, and though she sat a little straighter when they got into the heart of Little Odessa, making him reach across the seat and rest his hand on her thigh, his fingers curving around. It was silent, his reminder that she was with him, but it was enough to get her to relax.
Pulling into the parking structure attached to his apartment building, he drove around to the back, parking next to his Porsche, and the set of service elevators nearby. Kaz rarely went through the lobby anymore—especially when there was no guarantee what he would look like when he got home.
As they boarded, he pressed the button for his floor, and stepped back, looking to Violet as the doors closed.
There was no going back now.
Heart hammering, butterflies fluttering in her stomach, Violet tried to act normal as Kaz walked ahead of her once the doors to the elevator reopened. Like her place, his seemed to be the only one on this floor, but his had added security. After sticking the key in the lock, he pressed his thumb to an electronic key pad, the locks clicking open audibly.
At least she knew no one would just be walking in uninvited.
He opened the door wide, nodding his head for her to go in ahead of him.
She didn’t know what she was expecting when she walked in, a bachelor’s pad maybe, or a barren space that looked like it wasn’t lived in, but as she looked around, she remembered that his sister was an interior designer, and it was clear that she had used her skills on his place.
The floors were a dark hardwood, his walls painted a soft gray. Floor-to-ceiling windows on one side of the room were shielded by dark gray drapes, though they were parted just enough that she could see the beach through them. A large sectional divided the living room and the open concept kitchen.
His place, though decorated with just about everything a person could want, looked inviting rather than cold, like a store room display.
“I have to make a phone call,” Kaz said. “Look around if you want, but not too deep.”
Violet raised a brow at his words. “What, scared I might find all your secrets, skeletons, and fears hidden in your dresser drawers?”
Kaz didn’t even blink. “Exactly that.”
“Closets are open, then?”
“Only a stupid man hides skeletons in the closet. Everyone always looks there first.”
Violet laughed as Kaz pulled his phone out and made a beeline for the hallway opposite to the large living room. She milled around, noting that while the place was decorated and beautiful, there weren’t many pictures to give insight to the personal life of Kaz or his family. In the kitchen, she found a haphazard stack of mail piled in the middle of the table, and smiled to herself.
Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who just let her mail fall wherever it dropped.
After another couple of minutes without Kaz coming back, she decided to go in search of him. Down the hallway he had disappeared earlier, she found several doors. All of which were closed but for one. Standing in the doorway, she realized it was his bedroom.
Unlike the living room, his bedroom actually looked like someone regularly used it. His bed was left unmade, the sheets in disarray as though he hadn’t been able to get comfortable in them—she briefly wondered whether he slept without clothes on. Twin nightstands, and a bookcase along another wall made up the last of the furniture in the room.
The muffled, one-sided conversation coming from behind the closed door directly across from the bedroom made her pause, and stopped her from entering Kaz’s bedroom any more than she already had.
“Hey,” she heard Kaz say. And then just as quickly, “Just wanted to check up on you, Rus.”
Guilt flooded Violet almost instantly. The anger was quick to follow. She didn’t want to believe that Amelia had told Franco a bunch of lies about what really happened that night at the club, but it seemed that was just what her friend had done.