“My father followed a few years later,” she continued, her tone softer now, wrapped in memory. “A storm caught him and two others out past Inis Mór. Their boat went down. They never found him.” She blinked once, her gaze fixed on the candle flame. “My brother took over the business after that. Still fishes, still takes a boat out every day before dawn. He says the sea doesn’t forgive, but it also doesn’t forget. He couldn’t walk away from it if he tried.”
Her hand tightened around her glass before she set it down carefully. “I left. I had to. Too many ghosts in Galway. Too many empty chairs at the table.”
Blake watched her, the way her shoulders squared even as her eyes shimmered with the weight of loss. She carried her past the same way she carried her work, strapped to her like armor.
“And you?” she asked suddenly, turning the conversation toward him, sharp and searching. “What was boyhood Blake like?”
He let out a quiet laugh, setting his fork aside. “Restless. Wild. I lived in Arizona most of the time. I love the dry heat, desert scrub, and air that could strip you to the bone if you weren’t careful. My father runs his business from there, a job that keeps him very busy. But every summer, I ended up in South Dakota at my grandfather’s ranch. That was the best time. They had horses and more cattle than you can imagine. It’s amagical place. The sky is so wide it feels like it could swallow you whole. That’s one of the places where I learned what hard work meant. Where I learned silence could be a friend.”
Her eyes softened, and she seemed to be studying him with a curiosity that felt dangerously close to intimacy. “So, you’ve always had two worlds.”
“Maybe.” He let his mouth curve faintly. “Or maybe I just learned early that you can belong in more than one place if you’re willing to adapt.”
She turned toward the tall windows, where the lights of the city shimmered against the Danube. “It’s getting late,” she murmured. “We still have to cross the city to my hotel.”
Blake shook his head. “No need.”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean? My things are there?—”
“I already had a room prepared here,” he said, his tone smooth and matter of fact. “Guardian booked it. Two bedrooms. Plenty of space. And your belongings were transferred here this afternoon.”
Her lips parted in surprise, followed by the faintest breath of relief. She masked it quickly, but he caught the easing of her shoulders.
“Two bedrooms,” she repeated, the corner of her mouth twitching, testing him. She frowned suddenly. “Wait. How did you do that? You didn’t call anyone.”
“I did while you were showering this morning.” Which wasn’t a lie. Jewell had handled the rest on her own initiative, and he wasn’t upset about it either.
Blake let the statement stand. Let her believe she’d won that small battle. What mattered wasn’t the beds. It was that she’d sleep under his protection in a place where he could keep her safe.
He escorted her upstairs, where Blake slipped the keycard he’d picked up when they passed the check-in desk into the door and pushed it open. He gestured for Elise to wait outside, then quickly scanned the room before moving to let her in. The suite stretched wide and elegant. Wood floors were softened by Persian rugs, and tall windows overlooked the glittering curve of the Danube. The furniture was upholstered in creams and deep blues. Two bedrooms branched off opposite ends of the main sitting room.
Elise froze just inside the door, her gaze sweeping across the space. For a moment, awe softened her sharp edges. She took in the high ceilings, the gleaming brass fixtures, the carved crown moldings. Her lips parted, and she let out a low exhale. “This is …” She shook her head with a half laugh. “Grand. Far too grand for me.”
He watched her move farther inside, her steps hesitant as though she might set off an alarm just by breathing wrong. Then she spotted the wardrobe doors standing slightly ajar in the adjacent room. Curiosity drew her across the room, and she pulled them open. Her clothes, what little she had with her, hung neatly pressed, the wrinkles of travel gone. Even her shoes were lined in precise pairs along the bottom.
She went still, fingers brushing the fabric as if to test if it were real. A small frown tugged at her brow. “You mean someone unpacked me?”
Blake gave a slight nod. “The staff handled it.”
Her expression wavered, unreadable. Gratitude? Discomfort? Maybe both. She closed the wardrobe doors gently and turned toward him, arms folding across her chest, watching him like she wasn’t quite sure if she should thank him or scold him.
Blake didn’t linger for her reaction. His focus shifted to the room itself. Habit. Instinct. He crossed to the first bedroom,flicked the light switch, scanned corners, checked windows and locks. Elise trailed after him, her heels soft on the rug.
“What exactly are you doing?” she asked, brow arched, suspicion threaded with amusement.
“Inspection,” he answered simply, pulling back the heavy drapes to glance at the glass and the view beyond.
“Inspection of what? It’s a hotel room, not a crime scene.”
Crouching briefly, he ran a hand along the frame then straightened. “Entrances. Exits. Sightlines from outside. Anyplace someone could plant something or get in without knocking.”
Her mouth parted in surprise before snapping shut. “You do this everywhere?”
“Everywhere,” Blake said, moving to the second bedroom and repeating the process without breaking stride. He tugged at the adjoining bathroom door, checked the latch, and scanned the mirror and fixtures.
Elise followed again, watching closely now. “And if you found … whatever it is you’re looking for?”
He met her gaze briefly, the corner of his mouth ticking up in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Then I’d deal with it before you ever saw it.”
