Page 39 of Ballrooms & Blackmail

Inconceivable.

He goes still, those emotions twisting through his eyes once more. Then he murmurs, “Splash of milk. One sugar.” I nod and mix it up, handing it to him and getting a soft, “Thanks, little hen,” in response.

I want to ask him what he keep calling me that, what it means. But…I like it. And he might stop if I do. So instead, I let the silence fall between us, wait for him to eat and drink, and it’s only when the tray is empty that I get the courage to ask, “What happens now?”

His expression changes instantly, and I can almost see the steel-lined shutters dropping down around him, the concrete walls sliding back into place.

“You stay here.”

It’s another command, and one fierce enough to get my back up.

“Excuse me?” I ask archly.

“You aren’t leaving this apartment,” he declares. “Not until it’s safe. Not until the threats against you are neutralized.”

“Oh really?” I ask (and for the record, it’s still archly).

“Really.”

“How about I ask Briar and Brooks what they think about that?”

“I think,” he says, “considering that Angela Rousseau held Briar at gunpoint last night, he’s not likely to compromise anyone’s safety.”

“What?” I exclaim. “Is she okay?”

“Yes.” He picks up the tray and walks out into the hall, leaving me with only the half-filled cup of coffee and Violet curled at my side.

“Um,” I whisper, setting the mug onto the nightstand, tossing the covers back, and getting to my feet.

Before I can even begin my search for fresh clothes (I’m wearing an old T-shirt and pair of sweats of Thorn’s), he’s back.

“You could,” he says.

My eyebrows drag together. “Um, what?”

“You could stay with Briar and Brooks,” he says. “I—” He closes his eyes, inhales deeply then exhales just as heavily. “I’m not being reasonable about this. You could stay with them. They’re moving to his estate and will have security there too. You’d be as safe there as you are here.”

I just stare at him.

“But I don’t want you to go.” He clenches his teeth together, as though trying to cut off the flow of words, but it doesn’t work, and the words keep coming. “Because I like you here.”

“But all I’ve done is sleep here,” I point out.

A shrug. “The truth still stands.”

I glance down at my hands. “I don’t…”

“Don’t what?” he asks softly.

“I don’t understand what’s happening between us.” I just understand what I want, what I’m scared of, what I need. But I don’t understand…this. Us.

Silence.

Then, “River.”

Something about the way he says my name makes me look up.

He’s watching me with those intense green eyes. “You only need to understand that I’m no good for you.”