Sienna sipped her wine. ‘I started babysitting for him. I needed money.’ Her cheeks flushed pink; her tone was defiant. ‘We started dating a while after that.’
‘Right.’
He speared a tip of asparagus with a bit too much force. Emotions burled through him. Emotions like anger and rage, the kinds of emotions he never, ever let himself feel, because they scared the shit out of him. He didn’t want to be like his father. He wouldn’t let darkness take over. He would never put anyone at risk.
But Sienna had always been capable of breaking his boundaries down. Whether that meant making him love more fiercely than he wanted to, or fear she was – and always had been – his undoing. He’d been given the nickname ‘Ice’ for a reason. He was cold. Cold on the ice, cold off it. Except with her. Even now…
‘It’s nice that she has you, dear,’ Cynthia was saying, returning to the girl in the photograph.
‘Maybe. I think it’s even nicer that I have her.’
Aiden sat up straighter. His stomach dropped. His insides clenched. Because Sienna’s façade slipped, just for a second. Showing that shewasfazed. She was bothered. And damn it, if the way she said that hadn’t been one of the most wistful, loneliest things he’d ever heard.
12
His mood went from bad to worse. Where the fuck was the freaking bug? He slammed his fist into the pillow. The cricket chirruped. He stood up, stormed across the room and flashed on the light. Like the cricket would just jump out at him and announce itself.
He stood completely still. Listening.
Nothing.
But right at the moment he went back to bed, it let out another squeak and he cursed again. Screw this.
He reached for a shirt and pulled it over his head, then wrenched the door inwards and strode out of his bug-infested room, down the corridor, to the room at the end his brother had suggested he could use instead.
He needed to sleep.
Then again, sleep was flooded with dreams of Sienna, which was arguably more disruptive than the cricket, but nonetheless… at least he stood a chance of waking up tomorrow a little more rested. If also with a hard-on that wouldn’t quit.
Had Blake said the door on the left, or the right? He frowned, knocking on one of the doors at random and hoping for the best. A very male grumble came from within. Not this door, then. Must be the other one.
He opened the door, closed it with a click then flicked on the light switch.
And froze.
Because there on the Juliette balcony with the French doors open stood – unmistakably – Sienna. Even with her back to him, there was no mistaking it was her. Her small, slender body was silhouetted by the moonlight and the floaty cotton nightgown she wore, leaving even less to the imagination than her wet clothes had the other day.
He knew he should leave. Obviously. There’d been some kind of mistake. Blake had thought the room was empty, when it really wasn’t.
Sienna was using this room. As if to confirm that, he glanced around and saw little signs of her occupation – a phone charging on the nightstand, a dress hanging up on the bathroom door, a pair of shoes tucked neatly by the en suite.
He stepped forward without meaning to, eyes focused on her with a laser-like intensity.
Leave.Every fibre of his soul was exhorting him to think rationally. At best, this was a stupid mistake they’d laugh about. At worst, she’d be scared shitless. Or think he was stalking her.
He took another step towards her. And another. On the threshold of the balcony, he cleared his throat, so as not to alarm her. And pigs might fly. She spun around, face pale, lips parted as if to scream. At the last minute, she detoured away from that scream and whisper-shouted his name instead. ‘What the heck are you doing in my room?’
He held his hands up placatingly. She was gripping a cup of tea; he should be glad he wasn’t wearing the contents of it, he supposed.
‘A mistake,’ he said, truthfully, but her eyes narrowed.
‘Oh, yeah? You just happened to wander in here in the middle of the night? What the actual, Aiden?’
‘There’s some bug in my room,’ he explained, a little defensively to even his own ears. ‘Blake told me this room was free.’ His brow furrowed. ‘Obviously he got it wrong.’
Her face crinkled a little more, with a look of deep concentration. He held his breath, wondering what she was going to say. Tell him to get the hell out of there? That would make sense. That would be smart. For both of them.
Her throat shifted as she swallowed; he didn’t move. He didn’t offer to leave. He just stared at her. Remembering. Wanting. Freaking out, if he was honest.
