The Boss (Chateau #3) - Penelope Sky Page 0,81

realized he forgot to turn off the stove in the kitchen, he didn’t even breathe.

“What?”

He unclicked the pen then dropped it on the notebook, like he was finished for the night. He leaned forward and set the notebook there, his forearms moving to his thighs, his hands coming together.

The silence was suffocating. “Gilbert, what does it mean?”

He inhaled a deep breath before he cleared his throat. He got to his feet, straightened, and then tucked his hands behind his back before he departed the living room.

“Gilbert?” I got to my knees and faced the back of the couch, watching him walk out. “I don’t understand. What the hell did he say?”

He halted in his tracks, his back to me, one hand gripping the other wrist. His entire body lifted with the breath he inhaled then slowly sagged as he exhaled, his shoulders dropping farther than they’d been a moment before. “I love you, sweetheart.” He took a step forward and continued his route to the door. “That’s what it means.”

My legs were crossed with the book in my lap, the pages open to the next chapter in the story. The fire was warm against my legs and knees, even though it was several feet away from me. My eyes took in the words, but occasionally they would flick up and look at the fire.

Fender sat at his desk, making phone calls, working on his laptop, so comfortable with my presence it was like I was absent.

When the fire died down, Gilbert entered and quietly fed the fire with more logs.

He didn’t look at me.

When he brought lunch, Fender received his tray first at the desk. “Anything else, sir?”

Fender’s eyes remained glued to his screen. “No.”

Gilbert nodded before he turned around and crossed the room, his shoulders still low, his eyes hollow. When he returned with my tray, he set it down without making eye contact with me then departed without a word.

He didn’t hate me.

He was just heartbroken.

I closed the book and stared at the food he’d brought me, having no appetite because my hunger had been replaced by guilt. My fingers traced the edge of the pages of the closed book as I stared.

“Chérie.”

I lifted my gaze, not realizing Fender had moved to the couch across from me.

He stared me down, shirtless in his black sweatpants, his bare feet on the rug. His stare was endless and depthless, like he could do this for hours, days, an eternity. “What is it?”

I moved to the plate that held the tea sandwiches, one of my favorite items that the chef prepared. I set it on my thigh then picked up the freshly made bread without a crust and brought it to my lips for a bite. “Nothing.” I’d been quiet and withdrawn for two days, unsure what to do with the information Gilbert had revealed to me.

“I don’t trust people who lie to me.”

I stopped chewing at the assertion and lifted my eyes again.

His stare had darkened with sheathed ferocity.

“I just… It’s been over a week since you said you would remove my sister.” My first impulse was to lie because the truth wasn’t an option.

His anger slowly defused, and he accepted my lie as truth. “I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.”

My eyes focused on his face as my heart clenched with a jolt. “You are?” Being reunited with my sister was what I wanted more than anything. Knowing she was safe, even as a prisoner, was better than her working in the snow, being the target of the executioner and the guards who despised her.

He gave a nod so subtle it was hard to catch.

“Thank you…” The end was near. My sister would be here, her hands in mine, her arms around me. I was so deliriously happy by the image in my mind that my eyes actually watered. My hand returned the half-eaten sandwich to the plate, and I set it on the table.

He didn’t give another nod.

My spare time could be spent with her in the guesthouse, talking the way we used to, reading together, just being together in the same room. My mind drifted away into memories that hadn’t been formed, the two of us eating on the patio deep into spring, swimming in the large pool on the grounds in summer, living a luxurious life.

“How’s your French?”

My eyes immediately shifted back to him, my heart tightening for a whole different reason.

He didn’t blink, his eyes shifting back and forth as they pierced into mine, penetrating my