All the Feels (Spoiler Alert #2)(18)

Tentatively, she laid her hand on that rock-solid shoulder, desperate to get his attention.

He was warm under her fingertips. He didn’t shrug her away, but he didn’t turn around either.

“Alex, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult either you or her. I just …” Crap on a cracker, this day needed to end soon. She was so tired, her eyes were prickling and watery. “I hate cleaning and cooking. It’s hard for me to imagine anyone doing it voluntarily if they had another choice.”

At that, he swiveled to face her, and her hand dropped to her side.

“But you do have another choice,” he said. “Are you not anyone?”

She opened her mouth to answer, then shut it again.

“I don’t know” was all she could say in response.

“I see.” The angry flush on his cheekbones faded as he looked down at her. “What would the Harpy Institute for Crone Sciences say about that?”

She closed her eyes in relief. That sly sarcasm meant he’d understood. Understood and forgiven her for the inadvertent slight.

Her lips quirked. “That I possess insufficient harpy energy and should retake Harpies 101: An Introduction to the Virago Arts?”

“Ahhhhh.” There it was. His purr, its low breathiness a slow trickle down her spine. “Was that your feeble attempt at a joke, Nanny Clegg?”

“Maybe.” When she opened her eyes, he was only inches away, head ducked low, eyes alive with alert intelligence despite his fatigue. “I suppose you’ll never know.”

The air between them abruptly went hypoxic, and his stare mired her in place.

“I’m sorry too.” The words were abrupt, his mouth tight. “I can be a bit oversensitive. Maybe I would have been that way no matter what, but it’s … uh, pretty common with ADHD. I get more upset than I should whenever I think someone is criticizing me.” Her mouth opened, and he held up a hand. “Even when that’s not actually what they’re doing. I’ve worked on getting thicker skin, but …”

He lifted a shoulder, but the gesture didn’t seem casual. Not at all.

In fact, none of this seemed casual, and she didn’t understand what was happening.

Clearing his throat, he turned back to the sink. The bubble popped, and she could breathe again. Hear something over her own heartbeat again. See something other than his face again.

“Tomorrow morning, you can either bring food back to the stables or eat here with me. Same for all the other meals.” He turned on the faucet, then the garbage disposal, and waited to speak again until he flipped the switch and the buzzing went silent once more. “Unless I go out to a restaurant, of course, because then you won’t have a choice. You’ll need to be my ball and chain, as per Ron’s instructions.”

The sudden shift in their situation’s dynamics belatedly struck her.

Alex was done filming in an isolated section of Spanish shoreline. He was home, and as far as she knew, he didn’t have to report to another job right away. He could go anywhere at any time with anyone, and she’d have to go with him.

Shit.

“Correct. Any time you leave your property, I’ll accompany you.” Given what a restless person he was, that would probably mean constant activity on her part. A groan rose from deep in her beleaguered soul, but she didn’t let it loose. “Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

“Nope.” He snorted. “I’m fucking exhausted. I intend to sleep and eat Dina’s cooking and talk to Marcus, and that’s about it.”

“You can’t leave without me.” It was an order, but also a plea. “Not even once.”

He eyed her balefully. “You said that already, Nanny Clegg.”

Propping her fists on her hips, she stared up at him. “Promise me you won’t.”

“Would you believe me?”

He’d tilted his head, watchful. Wary.

She thought for a moment, just to be sure.

Then she told him the truth. “Yes.”

With his long exhalation, he bowed his head. And when he lifted his face to hers again, there was no hint of levity in his features.

“I promise,” he said.

Time had slowed to syrup once more. Her legs were quivering with tension, her parched lips begging for her to lick them.

He gave his head a little shake. “You’re tired. Let me get your keys, teach you how to deal with the alarm system, and show you the guesthouse.”

A quick tutorial on his alarm panel later, they were out his door. He didn’t let her near her own luggage, instead hauling the bags to the faux stables himself.

At the guesthouse entrance, he passed her a key chain with two keys and another little remote. “These are yours. One key and alarm remote for the stables, one key for the main house.”

She studied the remote, whose buttons seemed relatively self-explanatory.

“My first public event is Tuesday night. A charity auction. I’m hosting.” His smile turned a tiny bit evil. “There will be a red carpet. Which means you’ll have to walk it with me, Nanny Clegg. Cocktail attire required.”

She rubbed her temples again. “I’ll need clothing. You’ll have to accompany me when I get it.”

“We’ll deal with all that tomorrow. Come on. Let me show you around and tell you how everything works so you can go to bed.” With a feather-light touch to the small of her back, he nudged her toward the door. “Even harpies and harridans need to rest sometimes. Otherwise, they’re too sleepy for optimal shrewage.”