“What?”I say in disbelief.
“He’s dead,” she repeats. “The guard found him this morning. He took his own life.”
“But…” My mind stutters to a stop. “Why now? He’s been locked up since I was sixteen. He’s about to get out. Why would he suddenly do this? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Who the hell knows, Rune? The good news is, you and Julia are free. There’s nothing for you to worry about. He’s gone.”
“Oh my God.” My knees give way, and I slide down the wall until I’m sitting on the floor. “Thank you, Charlotte. Oh my God, thank you so much.”
“I didn’t do anything. But Rune, please don’t ever keep something this important from me again. I just…when I think of you dealing with this all alone, it breaks my heart.” She sniffs, like she’s trying to hold back tears. “You can tell me anything, okay? Jess and I are here for you. Always. We and the girls are your family. You know that, right?”
“I know,” I tell her. And I do. Charlotte wrote me letters the whole time I was in juvie. She never asked me what I’d done to get in trouble, just accepted me when I got out, as if I’d neverbeen gone at all. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve having her in my life, but whatever it is, I’m grateful for it.
“Good,” she says, in her usual brisk voice. “I’ve got to get back to the girls. They need dinner. But this weekend, we should celebrate. Emma and Sophie have been bugging me like crazy for another painting day with Auntie Rune. Come over and we’ll make those chocolate-peanut butter cupcakes you love, okay?”
I tell her I will, and we hang up. For a moment, I just sit, staring up at the terracotta walls and the rolling hills of the Tuscan villa, in shock.
I’m glad he’s dead. If that makes me a bad person, then so be it. I need to call Julia and tell her. But first, there’s something else I need to do, while I have the courage. Something that will confirm the truth: I’m alive, and the monster isn’t. After everything, I have survived.
In our shared office, I find Donovan studying one of his monitors, the folder Ethan gave him open on his desk. When he sees me, he pushes his chair back and gets to his feet. “Is everything okay?”
“More than okay,” I tell him. “Everything’s great.” And before I can lose my nerve, I round his desk, go to my tiptoes, and press my lips to his.
Donovan doesn’t move. He just stands there, doing his best impression of a statue, and I worry that I’ve made a terrible mistake. That I misinterpreted the tension between us earlier, and now I’ve done something I can never, ever erase. But before I can pull away, Donovan unfreezes. One of his hands rises, cupping my face, holding me still. And then he kisses me back.
His mouth is warm against mine, his lips unexpectedly soft. The kiss is gentle, but his free hand twines roughly in my hair, the low rumble that rises from his chest sending electricity shooting through me. I gasp as he licks along the seam of my lips, and he takes advantage of it, delving inside. His tonguestrokes mine as the hand in my hair loosens, trailing down my spine. He tastes like tea and oranges and something deeper, a taste that’s somehow justhim.
Gone is the Ice Man. In his place is this guy, who seems to know exactly what to do with his tongue and his hands and oh, God, histeeth,which are currently nipping at my collarbone. His lips ghost along my skin as he kisses away the sting, and I give in to the impulse I’ve had since I met him, running my fingers through the dark strands of his hair. It’s every bit as silky as I imagined, and I can’t resist tugging a little, just to see what he’ll do.
His head comes up, those blue eyes of his fixed on mine with unnerving intensity. God, they’re even more gorgeous up close: sapphire and navy and aquamarine, all swirled together, like the sea on the verge of a storm. I skate my nails along the back of his neck, urging him to kiss me again. But instead, he stumbles backward, right into the corner of his desk, his hip catching the edge of the monitor he was staring at before. It almost pitches onto the floor, but for once he doesn’t even seem to notice.
“Wait, Rune,” he says, tugging at his collar as if it’s too tight. “Just…wait.”
Oh no. Humiliation City, here I come. “Did—did you not want me to do that? Because I thought that before, you?—”
His eyes find mine again, and this time I’m the one struggling to catch my breath. His gaze radiates hunger, and he grips the desk behind him with both hands, so tightly his knuckles are white. “I wanted it,” he grits out. “Obviously. I just… I need a minute.”
“Okay,” I say, because what else can I do?
We stand there, a foot apart, looking anywhere but at each other, the atmosphere between us thick with awkwardness. My mind races, trying to find something to say that will ease the tension in the air, but no words come.
“Look,” I say finally, “maybe I should just?—”
“Why did you do that?” Donovan blurts.
“Kiss you? Um, because I wanted to.” I stare at him in bewilderment. “And I thought you might want me to, too. What other reason could I possibly have?”
His eyes fall to the floor. “You got that phone call,” he says to the hardwood. “And then you came back and you…you…”
“Jumped you?” I can’t help but smile. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, since you’ve only known me for a couple of days, but I can be kind of impetuous sometimes.”
“Oh, I noticed.” He’s still talking to the floor, like he can’t stand to look at me, and the all-too-familiar irritation common to conversations with Donovan Frost sweeps over me again.
“Sorry I didn’t schedule it in your calendar,” I snap. “‘One spontaneous kiss, to take place between the hours of 6:00 and 10:00 p.m.’ Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”
His head comes up, and the expression on his face floors me. He’s not angry, or cold. Instead, he looks…confused. “No…I didn’t mean…that’s not…”
I take pity on him. “Use your words, Donovan,” I say, but nicely.
