I hesitate for a fraction, then turn away. “I guess only time will tell.”
Since there’s nothing useful to kill here, I leave. That was a giant waste of my time. Unfortunately, these things sometimes take time.
I’m backat the estate. It’s quieter now. I don’t ask where she is. I don’t need to. I already know. I move through the halls without direction, steps guided by instinct I don’t want to examine too closely.
The sitting room is empty. No surprise there. The library lights are on. Bingo. I stop outside the doorway, but I don’t enter.
She’s in there, curled into one of the chairs with her legs tucked beneath her, book in hand. She looks . . . calm. Hair loose. Face intent. Lips moving faintly as she reads.
I stay in the shadows and watch. She turns a page, frowns at something, then mutters under her breath. I can’t hear the words, but her expression tells me everything I need to know. She’s annoyed.
Good.
I want her annoyed. I can deal with her more easily when she’s like that.
I shift my weight, and the floor creaks.
Her head lifts instantly, eyes snapping to the doorway. For half a second, she looks like she expects a fight. Her spine straightens, and her chin lifts in defiance.
I’ve got to hand it to her, it’s impressive. There is no fear. Just a challenge.
We are at a standstill. She’s waiting for me to step inside, but I don’t.
I also don’t speak. I just watch.
Her gaze flicks over me, and she smirks.
Just a little.
Like the victory is hers. Something ugly coils in my chest. I turn away before she can say anything. Before I do something I can’t undo. I walk back down the hall, my pulse loud in my ears.
This is a problem.
Her.
Because after everything, I shouldn’t want to know what she’s reading, what she’s doing, and certainly not what she’s thinking. But I do.
I shouldn’t feel this restless need to go back and finish something that hasn’t even started. I step into my study and shut the door, then lean my palms against the desk.
Breathe. “Get a grip.”
The reflection in the window stares back. Hard eyes. Tight jaw. A man who used to be in control but now isn’t.
I straighten slowly.
Fine. If she wants to play games—
I’ll let her.
But I won’t be the one who loses.
I reach for my phone. The war in Boston will need to wait. Because the more important one has already started . . .
In my house.
44
Victoria
