“And you bake? I’ve hit the vampire motherlode. I have a wicked sweet tooth so anything but I could handle something… chocolate?” She said, eyes lit up.
She was about to start asking more questions but then he continued, a big smile on his face, “Gotcha. Chocolate something it is. So, all that is yours. Check it out. I hope it all works.” He motioned toward the pile of bags and boxes in the sitting area, “I have a lot going on today so I won’t be around ‘til tonight. Sorry that you have to hang out here but I’m thinking that after this conference I’ll send the guys off for a bit so we can have the whole house to ourselves for a while. Or better yet, maybe we’ll go to my apartment downtown for a while,” he raised his eyebrows at her, “Go on a date, maybe?”
Kyla smiled, “Sounds good. You’re that busy but you have time to bake me something?”
He smirked, “I’ll make time. I need to fatten you up after all that fasting you did. There’s a chance,” he continued, his face turning serious, “that you might have to make an appearance during the conference, so you’ll notice something more formal there. I’m trying to avoid that but in case that’s not possible, we’re prepared.”
Kyla’s expression dropped and a chill crawled up her spine.
“I know.” Tristan said, “It’d be dangerous. We’d have to do some major prep beforehand to get away with this without anyone realizing you’re lucid but don’t stress about it for now. I’m working to find a way around it. And if we don’t have to use it you’ve got a sexy new little black dress for our first real date.”
So much for breakfast. Her appetite disintegrated.
Tristan took another sip of his coffee and then got up and kissed her softly on the mouth. His lips lingered for a beat and then he gave her shoulders a squeeze, “I’ll be in my office if you need me. Can you do me a favour and just pile everything from breakfast on that tray and put it out in the hall? Then lock the door?”
“Sure.”
He exited via the balcony. She watched him walk around to his office door then Kyla threw some workout clothes on and was about to look through the loot for runners, excited about the prospect of time on that treadmill even more than the big shopping haul spread across the sofa, but then decided to gather the breakfast dishes and get them out of the way first. She walked to the door and pushed it open, then went back to the table for the tray and took it into the hall and put it on the floor.
She heard something and saw a form step into the hall from the guestroom next door. She jolted. Joe. He’d seen her. She backed into the bedroom and shut the door and locked it.
Shit.
Was that going to be a bad thing? Surely the guys knew she was still there. Maybe Tristan didn’t want them to know she wasn’t still chained to the bed. She didn’t know if being sighted was a bad thing or not so she decided to go tell him. She walked out onto the balcony and looked down into the courtyard and she hurried around to the office door. The walk felt eerie as the last time she’d done it, she had been trying to leave him. It felt like a walk of shame. She could see about a dozen large round tables around the perimeter of the courtyard, obviously things were gearing up for this party. She pushed the office door open, noticing the screen had already been repaired and came face to face with Tristan and Sam. Sam was standing in front of Tristan’s desk and they’d clearly been entrenched in some sort of heated conversation. She stopped dead in her tracks. Sam’s eyebrows perked upwards and his mouth dropped open.
Tristan stood up and his eyes narrowed. “Wait in the bedroom for me, Kyla, please,” he clipped, his jaw tight.
She wanted to swallow but her throat was dry. She nodded and backed out. As she shut the door behind her, she heard Sam ask, “Please? Really, Tris?”
Her heart was pounding wildly. She had seen a dark and grim look on his face and guessed that barging in there with Sam present had not made him happy. She shut the door back in the master suite and sat on the couch, feeling panicked but thinking he should’ve warned her.
A long time passed and she got tired of drumming her fingers on the sofa arm so she finally got up and made the bed. She needed to get the panic out of her chest, out of her gut.
When she decided to start looking at the bags and boxes on the sofa and coffee table she was overwhelmed at the amount of stuff and the expense he’d gone to. The first thing she opened was a Nike shoebox. They were her size and pink with just a bit of sparkle and were ones she’d seen in the store and loved them, but could never justify spending that price on one pair of running shoes. Another shoe box revealed a pair of high-heeled glittery black strappy sandals with red soles. There were 6 other shoe boxes. Why would she need all these shoes if she were spending the foreseeable future in his bedroom?