"Chopping wood half naked in a snowstorm."
His mouth twitches. Almost a smile. "Noted."
I move to stand but his hand shoots out, fingers closing around my wrist. Not tight. Just enough to stop me.
"Thank you," he says.
I should yank my arm away. Should tell him that patching up his wound doesn't mean anything, that I still hate him, that none of this changes the fact that he's holding me here against my will.
Instead I just look at him, at the way the firelight plays across his face, at the way his grip has gentled on my wrist like he's afraid I'll bolt.
"You're welcome," I say.
Neither of us moves for a long moment. His thumb traces a small circle on the inside of my wrist, right over my pulse point, and I know he can feel how fast my heart is beating. The fire crackles. Snow falls thick and silent outside the window.
We're stuck here now. Really stuck, not just because he refuses to let me leave but because the weather has made leaving impossible.
And the sick part is, I don't hate that as much as I should.
28
JADE
The fire has burned down to embers by the time either of us speaks.
Phoenix is on the sofa with a blanket over his shoulders, his bandaged arm resting in his lap. I'm curled up in the armchair across from him, holding a mug of tea that went cold an hour ago. Outside, the snow is coming down so heavy I can barely make out the tree line.
We've been sitting here in silence, but it doesn't feel like the hostile silence from before. This one is heavier. Like we're both circling something neither of us wants to say out loud.
He breaks first.
"I need to tell you something."
I look up. His jaw is tight and there's something in his expression that makes my stomach clench.
"You've told me a lot of things," I say. "Most of them were bullshit."
"This isn't." He shifts, wincing when it pulls at his arm. "This is the truth. Or part of it. As much as I can give you right now."
"Why only part?"
"Because if I dump it all on you at once, you'll bolt. And yeah, I know that's ironic considering you can't actually go anywhere." His mouth twists. "But I'm not ready to lose you. Not yet."
I should tell him to go to hell. Should demand the whole truth or nothing at all. But there's something raw in his voice that I haven't heard before, and against my better judgment, I want to know what he's about to say.
"Fine. Tell me."
He stares into the dying fire for a long moment before he speaks.
"Marcus came to me six months ago. The investor dinner was his idea. He'd been working the deal for over a year, had everything lined up perfectly, except for one problem." He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Me."
"You?"
"The Teos are old money. Traditional. They don't just invest in businesses, they invest in people. And apparently I wasn't the right kind of person." He shakes his head. "Thirty years old, no serious relationships, tabloids calling me a playboy even though I've never been that guy. But perception is reality to people like them."
"So Marcus told you to find a girlfriend."
"He told me the deal was dead without one. No girlfriend, no Teos. No Teos, no other investors." Phoenix looks at me, firelight catching in his dark eyes. "He gave me three months to find someone who could make them believe I'd settled down."
