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“Please don’t say anything to Osian. This is my problem, not his,” I whispered. “I just need to deal with my own shit.”
He hesitated, eyes fixed on me.
“Sometimes I just need someone to listen, Merrick. I’m not looking for you to fix my problems.”
His lids flickered. “I know, cariad.”
That single word tamped down the anxiety in my chest. I rubbed the tear trails from my face and got up, walking my wine glass to the kitchen. He followed me, leaning in the doorway. His face was shadowed. Unreadable.
I felt his gaze bore into me as I pulled the dishwasher open and started loading it. Steam clung to my face. Soothing the reddened skin. His eyes followed my every move, but he resisted the urge to tell me I was loading the dishes wrong.
“Do you want to come to upstate New York with me this week?” he asked.
I straightened. There was something in his voice. Temperance. Strain, like he was walking a fine line.
“Why are you going there?”
“Vincent Galt is having some people up to his lodge,” he said. “I’ll have some business meetings, but I should have some free time. You can do what you like. Drink Cosmos and soak in the hot tub.”
Yes, God, yes, I wanted that. Of course I did. Somehow, without even having to speak my desires aloud, he understood them.
I nodded hard. “Yeah, I would like that. A lot.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MERRICK
I didn’t kill the man who had taken Candice’s virginity, but I did make him regret his choices. Yale knew his name and he knew the story. He didn’t have any problem spilling who it was—not one of my men—and I paid him a visit.
He worked in the same complex as Gretchen. I didn’t hurt him, I just sat him down and asked him a few questions. Then I had him put his hand on the desk. Palm down, flat. I traced the shape of it with a knife into the wood. Leaving a reminder for him to think twice next time.
He whimpered.
That was fine, I was into that.
Adrenaline always got me hyperaroused, hyperfocused. I needed to work it off before I went home to Clara.
So I went to the warehouse and beat the shit out of the standing bag. Exhausted, I showered in the locker room in the private area. There was no one around so I indulged myself and jerked off. It was nice while it lasted and my brain behaved itself and stayed blank. But as soon as I was done, I felt antsy again.
Clara was already packed when I got back. Her berry pink and black striped bags were piled by the door. I passed by them and walked into the kitchen to find her making a thermos full of coffee and peppermint cream.
Her damp hair was tied up on top of her head, but there was a tendril tickling the nape of her neck.
Caden had been right about one thing.
I could look at her wet hair and know exactly what it smelled like.
Dark jasmine.
She was quiet on the drive to the landing strip where I kept my private plane. I glanced at her a few times. She looked so sleepy and cozy, curled up with her empty thermos in her lap.
God, I loved just existing in her vicinity.
Without thinking, I reached out and patted her knee. Her head swung around and she fixed wide, dark eyes on me. There was a moment of silence. The radio murmured, too low to be intelligible.
“Are you alright?”
She nodded.
