My eyebrows lift so high into the air I wonder if they need an oxygen mask up there. ‘What exactly did you expect?’
The man has the neck of a giraffe. He’s used to being pandered to in LA with his screaming groupies, an army of adoring fans. Does he expect me to bow down and join them? Hell will freeze over first.
‘Not this, obviously. Not you.’ A hint of hurt lingers in his tone. ‘I must say, it’s a surprise. A pleasant one, of course.’ His velvet voice is deeper, even more masculine than I remember. An American twang weaves through his Dublin accent.
‘You book in to my castle, yet you don’t expect to see me?’ Tossing my hair off my shoulder, I wonder if he’s winding me up, or what.
‘Well, I knew there was a chance, but truthfully I thought you might have left…’ His eyes fall to my left hand. ‘Got married maybe…’
‘Oh you thought so, did you?’ Hot rage boils beneath my skin. My voice drops to barely more than a hiss. ‘Funny how you thought that, yet you didn’t think to say goodbye before you vanished from the face of the earth all those years ago.’
Fuck. Fuck, Fuck. I promised myself I wouldn’t bring it up. I swore not to let him see how he affected me.
How he still apparently affects me.
He’s been here less than a minute and I’ve failed epically on all of the above.
Thick tanned fingers sweep through his hair as a huge weighted sigh rushes from his chest. His face falls and his eyes drop to the floor. ‘You’re right, Sasha. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.’
For a split second, I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.
‘The past is the past, Ryan. Let’s leave it there. Truly, I hope you enjoy your stay at Huxley Castle. My staff will be sure to cater for your every need. If anything arises surplus to the usual requirements, the General Manager will assist you.’
Oh God, ground swallow me whole, please! If anything arises! That sounded shockingly sexual!
I need to get away from him this second because I’m liable to blurt out anything with his intoxicating masculinity wreaking havoc with my newly awakened pheromones.
‘Yourstaff?’ His turn to raise eyebrows.
‘Yes.’ Has the man gone deaf since he was here the last time? Who the hell else would be running the show?
‘Where are your parents?’
As he glances round the dome-ceilinged room with a quizzical expression carved onto his chiselled face, my gut twists painfully.
This has to be some sort of sick joke, right? Why would he even say that? Pretend not to know? He was even there when Chloe arrived at the door.
My lips part, then close again as the blood drains from my cheeks, rushing to my rapidly hammering heart.
Dark pupils search mine, piercing my soul, scratching the thinly formed surface barely sheathing the scars beneath.
I take deep breaths, concentrating on measured inhalations and exhalations, as my hand fumbles around clumsily for the handrail of the staircase once again. It’s paramount that I drag myself away from here right now. Away from him.
‘Sasha?’ Concern colours his molten eyes.
‘My parents are dead, Ryan.’
Horror rips across his features. He visibly recoils in shock. A hand lunges towards me again, but I’m quicker this time. His condolences are ten years too late.
‘Oh my god. I had no idea, Sasha. I’m so unbelievably sorry for your loss.’
Still confused, I shrug off his sympathy, even as my heart tears opens in my chest once again. ‘It’s life.’
‘When did they pass?’
I glance up to see a six-foot-five, burly soldier type entering the castle, staring intently at Ryan. Covered in tattoos and protruding muscles, he looks like he stepped straight out of the army. James is at his heels, laden with two plastic Samsonite suitcases.
Ryan barely glances in their direction, but he raises a hand at the man as if to tell him to wait. His eyes are trained solely on me. ‘That’s Pierce. My travel companion.’
