he wasn’t there. I checked the kitchen, thinking he might be having a late dinner. He wasn’t there either. I checked the gym, since it was possible that he’d decided to work his issues out on the punchbag. No sign of him.
My shoulders dropped. Maybe he’d gone to bed. His own bed.
I made my way to his room and knocked on the door. No response. I’d never once stepped inside the room, respecting his boundaries. Peeking through the door didn’t count as entering though, did it?
I twisted the knob and pushed the door so that it slowly swung open. I glanced inside, taking in the very masculine space with its geometric lines, neutral tones, and dark woods, but I didn’t see him anywhere. The bedcovers hadn’t been disturbed.
Sighing, I shoved a hand through my hair, wondering where he could possibly be. Then it came to me. The garden. He’d obviously headed to the garden for some peace and quiet.
It was a little chilly out so, since I was clad in only a thin tee and shorts, I hurried to the little oasis among the trees. But he wasn’t there either. “For fuck’s sake,” I muttered. How hard could it be to find one man in his own home?
Okay, I’d just have to stand in the foyer and yell his name until he answered.
As I was passing the pool on my way back to the house, a cool breeze came along and rustled the cabana curtain. And there he was. I halted with a relieved sigh. Finally.
Even though I knew my presence probably wouldn’t be welcome, I slipped inside the cabana. Lounging on the rattan sofa with a glass in his hand, his eyes met mine. His intense stare was so disturbingly blank it made my skin itch.
I eyed the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table beside him. Unease fluttered through me. Dane was not a big drinker. He’d have a glass of this or that here and there, but I’d never known him to make off with a bottle.
I opened my mouth, about to say that I’d come to check on him, but then I thought better of it. No grown man wanted to be checked on. And given the mood Dane was in, it would only piss him off.
His unwavering gaze didn’t shift from mine once—not even when he took another swig of whiskey. I genuinely couldn’t get a read on what he was thinking.
I stood there, not knowing what to say or do. Although I felt like an intruder, I didn’t want to leave him alone. He probably wouldn’t welcome company or comfort, but it felt wrong to just head back into the house.
So I crossed to the sofa and sat beside him, keeping a few inches between us so that he wouldn’t feel crowded. I didn’t speak. Neither did he. We simply sat there, our gazes on the rippling pool water.
Feeling a little cold, I pulled my legs up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them.
Dane exhaled a heavy, put-out sigh. “Go inside.”
Oh, he speaks. It was good that he wasn’t slurring. I rested my chin on my knees. “I like it out here.”
Silence fell between us again. A tense loaded silence that rubbed at my nerves.
Endless minutes went by as he took idle swigs of his drink, seeming lost in his own thoughts. Maybe it was the whiskey or simply that he was fully dressed, but the cool evening air didn’t appear to be bothering him at all. I couldn’t claim the same; goosebumps covered my arms and legs.
The breeze rustled the curtain again and swooshed inside. It was like a lash of cold to my bare limbs, and I couldn’t help the little shiver that ran through me.
He let out another of those disgruntled sighs. “Go. Inside.”
I looked at him, but he didn’t meet my gaze. “I’ll go if you go.”
He took another swig of whiskey. “I’m good here.”
“Then so am I.” I expected him to snipe at me. Instead, he rubbed at his temple, looking so tired all of a sudden. My chest squeezed. Before I thought better of it, I straddled his lap and burrowed into his warmth, resting my head on his chest.
He went rigid. “Vienna.”
“I know you’re good at being alone, Dane, but you don’t always have to be.”
He didn’t hold me. Didn’t touch me. He sat very still, tense as a bow. His body language screamed get off me and go, but I didn’t. I stayed snuggled