Page 46 of Bleeding Hearts Duet

When he came, it was with a long and ragged groan. The difference in his posture was obvious, and my heart skipped a beat knowing I had the power to ease his tension.

“Come up here.” He patted his lap.

I climbed into his lap and relaxed in his arms while he stroked my back and kissed my neck.

“You look tired,” I murmured against him.

“That’s because I am, baby girl.”

The ocean between us grew smaller by the moment, and when my eyes locked with his, I was afraid of what that meant for me. For my heart that I was supposed to be keeping out of this.

I reached up to clasp his face in mine while I stared into his eyes.

“Still mad at me?”

He blew out a breath and clutched me tighter. “I don’t like to worry about you.”

“Am I in danger?” I asked.

Ryland stiffened beneath me. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because last week, you said you thought I was dead. And the rule about my safety. Is there something I should know?”

He dropped his gaze and shook his head.

“No, you’re not in danger.”

His voice held conviction, but there was something else there too. And if I wasn’t in danger, I couldn’t understand his reaction. Why he’d immediately assumed I was dead when I’d gone missing for a few hours. If it were any other time, I might have pushed the issue, but we were already on shaky ground.

“Stay the weekend with me,” he said.

I didn’t know if I had a choice or not, but either way, I nodded my assent.

“I have to go to my apartment to get my things.”

He picked me up and set me on my feet. “I’ll buy you whatever you need on the way.”

“I don’t want you to buy me anything,” I argued. “I have everything I need at my apartment.”

He gave me a look that told me it was not up for discussion as he threaded his fingers through mine and led me from the office.

***

It was ten minutes past eight, and the store was now officially closed. The retail assistant kept giving me dirty looks while Ryland typed away on his phone. Yet, she’d insisted she was more than happy to keep the store open late for him.

I glanced at another price tag and frowned.

“Ryland,” I whispered.

He blinked up at me as though he couldn’t possibly understand what the problem was.

“I can’t buy anything here. This is crazy.”

This little statement earned me another scowl from pouty Patricia with her perfect hair and tailored skirt suit.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like the clothing. I’d dreamed of nothing but wearing this kind of clothing for as long as I could remember. It was why I collected every fashion magazine I could ever afford with my meager income. It was the reason I learned to sew. I wanted to design my own creations and have something great instead of another bargain bin special. But allowing someone else to buy me these kinds of garments made me feel cheap somehow.

Ryland simply grunted at my statement as he pulled me into his side and barked off his orders to Patricia.

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