Rest hadn't been a problem last night. I'd fallen fast asleep practically the moment my body had hit the bed. He'd taken me so high, made me feel so burst open with pleasure, I'd drifted off on a cotton candy cloud.
Washing and dressing, now I felt self-conscious. At first I’d talked a good game, protesting, calling him crazy. But when it came down to it, the moment he'd touched me I'd come apart. I'd unraveled in his arms, my body responding to him on instinct. I couldn't pinpoint the exact moment at which my brain had downshifted and my body had taken charge, but that's exactly what had happened. It had felt too good with him to say no.
Now my brain was back in the building. It had a lot to say about what had happened last night. It was strange, for starters. People didn't start relationships that way, with a bargain, personal information given in exchange for sexual gratification. And there I was, thinking of this as a relationship. It was on me if I started hearing wedding bells. He'd been quite clear. To him, this was a transaction, like going to the ATM or clicking "Place your order" on Amazon.
But had it really felt that way to him? Listening to him tell me about what he'd been through, I saw such anguish on his face, heard deep hurt and pain in his voice. It had pierced me, made me cry, both to hear what he'd been through back then and how much he was still suffering from it. What would it be like to have made a stupid decision as a young teen and then have to pay for it for the rest of your life? I'd always played it so safe, never really able to experiment with being reckless since I was so busy caretaking. Sometimes I'd felt bad about it, wondering what I'd missed out on, where I'd be now in my life if I'd ever once acted on impulse.
I blushed, looking at myself in the mirror as I brushed my hair, realizing I'd certainly acted on impulse last night. And now here I was, confused and unsure. But maybe it had been worth it? My skin tingled in memory, a new awareness traveling through my limbs. I'd never felt so alive, so swept up, so worked up and then so freed.
And it wasn’t just the orgasm that had me swooning—even though attaching the word “just” to that word “orgasm” seemed wrong. It had been earth-shattering, mind-blowing, beyond anything I'd expected or experienced. But there was more to why I was swooning over this man. It was lots of little moments when I saw his humor, his insight. It was the way his eyes had lit up when he talked about his family's distillery. The way he'd encouraged me to taste, feel, experience what his family had been creating for centuries. I saw pride in him, a sense of artistry and accomplishment. There was so much more to him than maybe even he realized.
Tying my hair back into a loose ponytail with a ribbon, I squared my shoulders. Where did he see this going? Where did I want it to go? There was only one way to find out.
Downstairs, I found Ian straightaway, but not where I'd expected to. He was in the cavernous, decrepit main living room of the castle where I didn't think I'd seen him since our very first conversation.
“Do you think it's the right size?” A few feet away from the large couch hosting a family of mice in its cushions, he studied the furniture.
“What, the couch?” I walked over to join him.
“I'm thinking it might need to be replaced.” He looked at me with a roguish smile.
I had to laugh. It was such an understatement. “But where will the mice live?”
“Right.” He stroked his chin, as if considering the wisdom of my question. “Do we buy a miniature house for them, then? Feed them cheese in it?”
“It seems the only humane thing to do.”
He nodded. “I'll get right on that. And how about you pick us out a couch? About the same size?”
“Really?” Had he just said “us” like we were a couple selecting furniture for our home?
“I've never done it before.”
“Nor have I.” I pictured our family’s one dreary couch, cushions smashed over years of use. My mother and I kept it cleaner than the one gracing the Douglas estate, but whether it was brown due to manufacturer's specifications or the wear and tear of time was anybody's guess.
“All right. I’m off to my morning workout.” He headed out of the room, glancing back at my surprised expression. “Did you have a good sleep last night?” I blushed at his question, and the mischievous gleam in his eye. He winked at me, a satisfied expression on his handsome face. “I thought so.”
As I watched him leave, I shook my head over his cockiness. But he was also right and he knew it. He'd done me in.
The rest of the day passed in a surprisingly normal fashion, me busy with my usual tasks plus the additional one of looking into a couch purchase. Of course even as I hustled and bustled about as usual, I had one thing and one thing alone on my mind. It was not the couch.
Late in the afternoon, he found me outside in the garden. “Cassie from town has brought round some meat pies for dinner. Why don't you help yourself when you're done? I'll see you in the library later on.”
I didn't know how he could act so nonchalant. Probably because he did this kind of thing all the time. But while I told myself that, I knew it wasn't entirely the truth. He might have a wild sex life for all I knew. He certainly seemed to know exactly what he was doing when he touched me. But what I knew he didn't do much was talk about what happened to him. Sharing all that had to have meant something to him, maybe even as much as it had meant to me?
Thankfully, I didn't have too much time to dwell on things. Soon after I came in the house, Liv called. She vented for a good half hour about a fight she and Jess had been having. Then Jess called me to vent about the same thing. It seemed like the problem at the heart of the friction was how much time it took to look after Brian. I knew I’d left behind a part-time job when I’d taken the caretaker position. I guess they were realizing it now, too. Then I spent another half-hour on with my mum talking through logistical options—and talking her down from the proverbial ledge. I hung up worried, stressed and frazzled.
I found Ian in the library. I don’t know what he expected when he saw me, but the torrent of venting I unleashed was not it. His eyebrows raised as he listened, until he finally interrupted, “This is the household you left to take work as caretaker here?”
“Yes,” I sighed, taking a sip of the single-malt he’d poured. Slowly, I savored it, letting it coat my tongue as he’d taught me. Amazing how much smoother it went down when I took my time. The process calmed me, too, forcing my mind to stop racing, making me press pause.
“Sounds to me like you traded up. At least here you’re paid to run around taking care of household tasks. And you only have to put up with one cranky person, not four.”
“Really just my sisters are the cranky ones.” I took another sip, a bit too big, and I spluttered and coughed.
“Easy ther
e, killer.” He patted me on the back, rubbing me even after I’d calmed down. “They got you all worked up, didn’t they?” I nodded, letting my head tilt back, my eyes flicker closed as he massaged my back, up to my shoulders, kneading my tense muscles. “I’d be happy to help you relax.” His words rolled out, smooth and low, but they made my eyes pop open.
“Ian!” I scooched away on the couch, putting some distance between us. “We should talk about what happened last night.”
“Mmmm.” He arched an eyebrow, giving me an all too satisfied look. He knew what he’d done to me.
“I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it.” There was that flush again that he so frequently brought out, making my cheeks glow in the firelight.
“I know I enjoyed it very much.”
“You did? You enjoyed telling me about the accident?”
“That wasn't exactly what I was thinking about.”
“Oh, right.” Of course, that was silly of me. I could tell he wanted to steer us down a certain path. But I had an agenda, too. “So how was it, telling me about the accident? Have you talked about it with many people?”
“No, curious one.” He smiled, clearly reluctant to discuss the subject any further, but still answering.
“Who knows about how you got injured?” I pressed on.
“My family, obviously. My friends who were in it with me. A handful of others, people I'm close to. Or used to be.” A frown furrowed his brow. I felt a strong urge to kiss him there, smooth away the worry and the pain. “Come to think of it,” he added, “I bet a lot more people know now that all my friends have coupled up.”
“Have they?”
“One after another, like dominoes. First Chase, then Liam with my sister.”
“Sophie?” I asked eagerly.
“How do you know her name?”
“I saw that newspaper clipping on the shelf.” I gestured over to it. “It had her name underneath the photo.”