It’s charming and rustic, while somehow being both comfortable and luxurious. If I lived in a place like this, I’d never want to leave.
Fire licks at the grate in the fireplace, and from here I can see the pipe of a woodburning stove, the dim light on a kitchen floor at the far end of where we stand, as well as a ladder that leads to the second floor. I see no stairs, just the rustic ladder, and I want to squeal with delight. What does it mean? Is his bedroom in a loft?
I pull out my phone and shoot him a text.
It’s beautiful. Exquisite. I don’t ever want to leave this magical place.
Some people speak too quickly and don’t think before they speak. Since I don’t have the ability to talk, you’d think I wouldn’t have that problem, but you’d be wrong. As soon as I send the text, I feel my throat tighten and my cheeks burn. I didn’t mean it that way.
He reads the text and gets a shy, pleased look on his face. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “I built this one myself.”
If my jaw could open even further, it would be on the damn floor. No way. I’m utterly astounded at how talented he is, to build something so magnificent and cozy.
“Come sit with me by the fire.”
He takes me by the hand, and I spend a moment just enjoying the feel of his rough, strong hand holding mine. My heartbeat accelerates as we sit on the couch. The fire crackles, the flames leaping high. He sits beside me and tugs me straight over to his lap.
We say nothing for long minutes, and I marvel at how gentle he is. He nuzzles his nose in my hair, inhaling deeply. I give him a quizzical look, since I think it’s a bit odd he’s doing that, but he only shakes his head. “You smell fucking good.”
I like that.
At first, there are so many things I want to say to him that I’m tempted to pull out my mobile and text, but it’s cumbersome to do that, and I enjoy the quiet. We don’t always need to chat. I like that we don’t need to fill up every space between us like so many people do.
He reaches for my hand, and laces his fingers with mine.
“Tomorrow, we have some investigating to do,” he says. “Take out your mobile, lass.”
I look at him curiously, but do what he says and pull it out.
“You’ll come with me tomorrow. Is that clear?”
Why does he think I’ll hesitate?
I nod, then shoot him a text.
Yes, of course.
He nods. “You won’t be allowed to go to your home. You won’t be allowed to see your mother or get your things, or go anywhere that’s familiar. Do you understand me?”
I nod again and shoot him one of those texts I wish I could take back after I send it.
Yes, of course. What the hell do you think I want to do, have a family reunion with the people that abused me?
A muscle tightens in his jaw when he reads that text, and he doesn’t respond at first.
“No,” he says quietly. “That’s not what I expected, but you need to know this isn’t a joyride.”
His lecture’s angering me.
I’m shaking when I send the second text that I should know better than to send.
Oh, glad you made that fucking clear.
I go to send him another text, when he yanks my mobile and tosses it straight across the room into an overstuffed armchair.
I stare at him, slack-jawed. Did he just silence me? He just silenced me! He might as well have gagged me to make me shut up. I glare at him and try to push away so I can get to my phone, but he grabs my hand and makes me sit down beside him.
“We are not having a text fight.” His words are tight and controlled, as he holds my gaze. He might not let me text him my anger, but he can’t make me look at him. I turn away from him and close my eyes.
“Stop being so childish,” he snaps, reaching for my chin to drag my gaze back to his, but I refuse to open my eyes. “Cairstina,” he warns. “Open your eyes and look at me or I’ll put you straight over my knee and you goddamn know I will.”
I hesitate for only a fraction of a second that time because hell, I do know he will punish me if I push too far. With great reluctance, I open my eyes, though I don’t even bother to try to mask my fury.
“Relax,” he says, in that deep, raspy voice of his as he holds my chin in his firm grip. “We’ve only just met each other. What makes you think I’d have the ability to read your mind and know exactly who you are at any given time?”