But there was no way anything could happen between us. I wasn’t even sure he was attracted to humans.
Yes, he kissed me in the woods, but that seemed more like an act of dominance than anything else. And, yes, he made sure I had coffee. He cooked for me. He did a lot of things that showed he saw me as someone who deserved respect.
But that didn’t mean that he had the hots for me. I had a feeling that I would be gently, but firmly, set away if I made even the smallest gesture of flirtation or interest.
And I had enough on my plate right now. My emotions were a roller coaster of grief, sadness, anger, and confusion. I didn’t need to add lust or anything sexual to that mix.
So, each time I noticed something attractive about him, I reminded myself that I was only here until Bernie returned. I was a hostage. Sort of.
It didn’t work very well, but I kept trying.
By the time we were done eating dinner, I couldn’t take it any longer and I escaped.
That had been hours ago. I’d texted Sela for a while, scrolled Pinterest, but now I was bored. I had books on my Kindle, but nothing could hold my attention.
Sometimes, when I was restless like this, I would choose a paperback or hardback over an ebook. Something about the process—the scent of the pages, the smoothness of the paper, and the quiet whisper of each page turn—was soothing.
I opened my bedroom door and peeked out into the hallway. All the lights were off upstairs, save a small lamp on a console table between my door and Daniel’s.
I didn’t worry too much about being quiet because I understood now that Daniel would hear me no matter what I did.
Still, I didn’t stomp down the stairs or anything. I went down the front staircase rather than the back. I didn’t want to walk through the dark house from the kitchen to the library. Knowing me, I’d trip over something and end up making an enormous racket.
There was a lamp still lit in the library. I went to the door and waited for my eyes to adjust. I shivered a little because the house was cool, and I’d only brought tank tops and shorts to sleep in because I thought I’d be staying at Bethany’s cottage.
I crossed my arms over my chest and tiptoed to the shelves. I flicked on the closest floor lamp. There was one in each corner, each with a stained-glass shade, one for each season. I thought they were gorgeous and had wondered to myself if I could find a way to sneak them out of the house.
I ran my fingers over the spines of the books, appreciating the array of genres. While Daniel did have a huge collection of leather-bound classics, he also had worn paperbacks and hardbacks. Everything from Stephen King to Ilona Andrews to memoirs.
I finally settled on Lee Child. I’d read the first Jack Reacher novel but had never made it to the second. Since it was on Daniel’s shelf, it seemed like kismet.
I slid the book off the shelf, turned off the corner lamp, and turned to leave the room.
Then, I screamed and dropped the book.
Daniel tilted his head to one side as he stared at me through the dim light. A glass of some liquid, probably whiskey, rested on his knee.
“How long have you been there?” I asked, clutching my chest with one hand.
“Since you came in. You walked right past me to get to the bookshelf.”
His face was shrouded in shadows. I could only see the shape of his head and shoulders.
“Well, I don’t have perfect vision in the dark,” I replied.
He lifted the glass, and I heard ice clink as he took a sip.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked when he lowered the glass again.
“No.”
“Are you still upset about this morning?”
“No,” I answered, crouching down to pick up the book I’d dropped.
“Then, why are you back to avoiding me?”
I froze in my crouch and glanced up at him. But I still couldn’t see his features. I didn’t like not being able to see his face. Though he wasn’t overly expressive, I could still get an idea of what he was thinking just by looking at him.
