“And by doing that, I placed you in more danger.” He disappeared into his massive walk-in closet. “Now I can’t even do what needs to be done.”
“What do you mean?”
When he emerged from the closet, he had shed his designer suit and replaced it with a pair of black sweatpants and no shirt. The sight of him erased the anxiety of my day. All I wanted was to fall into his arms and never leave.
Seeing him validated my decision to come to the main house. This was where I belonged.
“Is there anything you need?” he asked. “Before you go to bed?”
“Just you.” I inched close to him until our chests were against one another. “I haven’t been sleeping well at all these past couple of weeks.”
“You’re safe now.” He kissed the top of my head. “You’ll have a quiet and comfortable night.”
“Why are you making it sound like I’ll be alone?”
“Because I’m not sleeping in here with you.” He moved away from me. “I can’t, not after everything you’ve been through today.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to understand.” He waved his hands in the air, displaying his Italian trait of using them to talk. “You just have to accept that I need a little space.”
“You’ve had two weeks of space.” This time it was me doing the stalking as I rushed toward him. “You came for me today. I chose to come here because I thought we were on the same page. Now you don’t want to sleep in the same bed as me?”
“I want to be with you, but it can’t be tonight.”
“Why not?”
The tension in his fierce expression should have been enough to back me off, but it wasn’t.
“You made me come back here,” I said.
“I’m aware.”
“Why are you acting like this?” I asked.
“This isn’t an act.” He rubbed his jaw. “We both had a stressful day. I’m happy you’re back at the main house, but I need some time to decompress. I don’t want to say or do anything I’ll regret later.”
“What happened?”
“There’s been a change of plans, and I need to come to terms with how that’s going to look.” He hurried back to the sitting room. “I need the space to do that or I might lose my shit.”
This wasn’t the Milo I had grown accustomed to. He always kept his anger in check. I could tell when things bothered him or when he was going to lose it, but he was the voice of reason in his family. He looked at a situation from every angle and found a way to fix it.
“I want to help.” I came up from behind him and touched his shoulder. “Let me.”
“If that’s true, you’ll let me sleep in the guest room tonight. I'll be two doors down the hall. That’s much closer than if you were still in the city.” His muscles tensed when I trailed my hand along his back. "That's what I need.”
“What if I can’t give you that?” I had spent two weeks sleeping alone. I wasn’t giving in. Not when I was this close. “Icame back here to be with you. Whatever you’re going through, let me in so I can make it better for you.”
“You’ll make it worse.” He spun to face me, his eyes blazing with a fire that should have been reserved for his enemy. “Is that what you want?”
“How could I make this worse?” I stepped closer to him, no longer wanting to be the meek mouse who gave into his every demand when I knew I could be more for him.
“How could you make it worse?” He gripped my upper arm. “I can’t do what has to be done, and if I have to look at your battered face one more second, I’ll lose my fucking mind and go against everything I know to defend you.” He pulled me closer to him, dropping his gaze to my lips. “Don’t make me do that.”
His tired voice begged me to give him what he needed. His tortured eyes and stress-riddled face screamed at me to give him the space he demanded of me. But something nagged at me not to listen to him.
“Sable,” he said. “I’m sleeping in the guest room.”
