The Curse of Redwood (Ivy Grove #2) - Jaclyn Osborn Page 0,31

it ends now.” Z took hold of my chin, forcing my face up to his. Our lips were so close, though I didn’t feel his breaths despite mine coming quicker. My heart raced, and I didn’t feel his beating at all. All signs of how different we were. “You are no longer welcome here.”

“You don’t mean that.” I moved my hand to his waist and gripped the material of his vest. “We’re connected. Can’t you feel it?”

“I feel nothing anymore,” he said in a pained tone, sliding his hand to my nape. His eyes searched mine. “Forget about this place. I beg of you.”

Emotion clogged in my throat. “I can’t.”

“You must.” His face inched closer, chilling my skin. “It’s not too late. You can leave now, and with time, this place will only be a bad memory.”

“Not all of it is bad,” I said, before lightly pressing my lips to his. He trembled… or maybe it was me who did. “Some of it is really good. Like when you showed me your library.”

“I apologize for giving in to my lust last time,” he said against my mouth. “It mustn’t happen again.” He tore away from me, putting several feet between us. “If only we’d met in another life.”

He started to walk in the other direction.

Was this goodbye?

“Ezekiel, wait!” I blurted out without thinking.

He halted in step. Faster than my mind could process, he appeared inches from my face, his expression both distraught and filled with rage as he shoved me against the door and pinned me there. “How do you know that name?”

“I-I read about it when I researched Redwood,” I stammered, frightened of him for the first time. I was hesitant to tell him about the dreams. Mainly because I didn’t understand them myself. “Is it true? Are you Ezekiel Warren?”

“You really don’t know how to keep your nose out of other people’s affairs, do you?” he growled, his body flickering in his anger. “What else do you know?”

“N-Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“I-I’m not lying. I tried learning more, but other than that one mention of Ezekiel’s—er, your—birth, I didn’t find anything else.”

“No record of my life or death?” he asked, his voice shaking. He seemed… upset by that fact.

Not trusting my own voice, I shook my head.

Z lowered his arms from where he’d been blocking me in and walked over to the edge of the porch, staring out over the yard. “I knew he detested me, but for him to erase my very existence? It’s appalling.”

“Who?” I asked, walking up beside him. The vines ensnaring the gazebo moved with the strong gust of wind. A cold front was moving into the area, chasing away the last signs of summer and bringing in fall.

“My father.”

“Why would he want the world to forget you?”

“That is a story for another day, little dove.” A faraway look appeared in his eyes. “All you need to know is Arthur Warren cared for reputation more than he did his own blood. Any stain on his good name was a thing he would never tolerate.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

He was quiet a moment before saying, “I became a threat to our family’s reputation in his mind.”

“How?”

“You ask many questions.”

“And you avoid them.”

A smile flitted across his face, albeit small. “Would you like to come in?”

“You’re letting me stay?” I asked, shocked. Not even five minutes ago, he’d said I wasn’t welcome. What had made him reconsider?

“Although I feel it’s in your best interest to leave, I’m much too selfish and lonely to fight you on it any longer.”

“So you do like me.” I grinned when his blue eyes flashed to mine. “I knew it.”

“Come inside before I change my mind.” Even though he was able to pass through doors, he stopped to open it for me.

“Such a gentleman,” I said, walking past him into the mansion. The sudden change of temperature was staggering as I stood in what looked like a small dining room. Sunlight couldn’t reach the shadows in front of me. I concentrated on the hallway to the right, making out what appeared to be a small, dark shape standing near the wall. A hand touched my lower back, and I jumped. “Jesus!”

Z chuckled in my ear. “It astounds me how someone so brave can squeal so easily.”

“You think I’m brave?” I asked, smiling over at him.

“You’d have to be brave to step foot in here again, after what happened last time.”

“What did happen last time? Every ghost in the whole mansion seemed to

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