Denial (Careless Whispers #1)(38)

“How much was it?”

“Ten million.”

I gape at the astounding figure he mentions so nonchalantly. “You gave her ten million dollars?”

“Yes.” Tightness forms around his mouth. “I gave her ten million dollars, but all that money doesn’t bring their father back, and it damn sure didn’t stop the pain.” There is a hint of rasp to his voice, and he cuts his gaze to indicate the room beneath the arch and the end of the topic. “You have to enter the living area to get to the kitchen. It’s well stocked, and Marabella, the housekeeper, picks up anything I need. She’ll do the same for you. She has a whiteboard on the counter to leave a note.” He points to the walkway forking left and right of the arch. “You’re left. I’m right.” He starts walking left.

I fall into step with him and enter a chilly corridor with high ceilings. We pass what looks like a library, and he motions to a set of stairs. “There’s a full gym on the next level if you want to work out. And this,” he says as we reach the door at the end of our path, “is your room.”

This is your room. The words echo in my head, and again, I have a memory of another time and place. He opens the door, and I enter ahead of Kayden to find myself in a much warmer room that is truly made for fairy tales. The spectacular bed is the centerpiece, thick, high posts of mahogany towering ridiculously high and draped with sheers. A white wooden fireplace is alight and sits to the left of the bed and directly in front of me, with a comfy-looking brown leather chair next to it.

“Marabella turned on the fireplace for you,” Kayden says, crossing the room to stand beside it. “It’s gas, one of the modernizations I made to the place a few years back, to offset how cold the castle can get.” He reaches for a switch and turns the fire off and then on. “Easy and effective.”

“Great. Thank you. It’s a wonderful room.” But I’m really thinking about him. Me. And that bed.

He motions to a rectangular, narrow, floor-to-ceiling window in the corner. “It doesn’t open or offer much light.” Next, he indicates the flat-screen TV on the wall above a heavy wooden dresser. “The remote’s in the dresser drawer, and there’s a mini-fridge on this side of the bed stocked with drinks and snacks.” He advances on me again, and while the man in my flashbacks moves with grace, Kayden is all loose-legged, rebellious swagger. And I like it. I like it a lot. “We can go shopping for anything you need once the rain dies down,” he adds, stopping in front of me. “In the meantime, Marabella took the liberty of picking up a few things that you’ll find in the closet.”

“She didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to do that. Thank you, Kayden.” I lift my hand to touch him, and catch myself, folding my arms in front of me instead. Awareness flickers in his eyes, and I know he knows what I almost did and still want to do.

We stand there, a weighted silence ticking between us that has nothing to do with my words, and everything to do with the bed sitting behind him. He steps closer, but doesn’t touch me, his gaze drifting to my mouth and back up. “You have no idea how much I want to strip you naked and throw you on that bed. But you were right about memories. They keep the past we don’t want to forget alive, and they remind me of all the reasons I’m bad for you. And why I need to walk out of this room before I don’t give a damn anymore.”

And to my utter shock, that’s exactly what he does. He steps around me and starts walking. I turn in time to watch him disappear into the hallway, the door shutting behind him. Shutting me inside. I’m not sure how long I stand there staring at the space where he was moments before, willing him to return, the way I did in the bathroom when we played out a scene almost like this one. But he doesn’t return, and I finally turn to look around the room that is the closest thing to home I have. A memory surfaces, transporting me to another room. Another house. And that man.

He opens the huge double doors at the top of the stairs and motions me forward. I step into the glamorous room with heavy pale wooden furnishings and a floral love seat in the corner beside a window. It’s amazing, and so unlike anything I have back home. I turn and face him.

“It pleases you?” he asks.

“Of course it pleases me. Thank you for letting me stay with you. I’ll go to the passport office tomorrow and try to figure out how to get home.”

“Don’t rush on my behalf. In fact, I think I might benefit from having an angel such as yourself in the house. It will keep the devil in me in check.” His eyes sweep my body and lift. “Or perhaps not.” He turns and walks to the door, pausing without turning. “You should lock your door.”

I smile as he exits, quite certain I will not be locking the door. In fact, I might just leave it open.

I blink back to the present, and I don’t even have to ask how I ended up leaving that guest room for his. I probably did open the damn door. I rotate and face the one to this room, and while I do not feel any fear or need to lock myself inside, I hadn’t then either, and this version of me does not wish to be as stupid as the one of the past. I rush toward it to turn the lock, but there isn’t one. I rotate again and lean on the hard surface, irritated at the doubt rolling through my mind. That man is not Kayden, and I don’t need a lock. I was naked in a bed with him and he didn’t take advantage of me.