Page 27 of Toward Immortal Ruin

Four months ago.

Panicked, she looked around the room wildly in search of her bags. She remembered that Nero had carried them in last night, but she hadn’t registered where he’d put them.

There.

Lunging for one of the suitcases, she unzipped the front pouch and grabbed the prescription bottles. Downing one after the other, she breathed a sigh of relief. No sense in dying as soon as she arrived in paradise.

She looked sidelong at her tennis shoes, neatly arranged beside her bags. Clearly Nero’s work, since Eden had been a walking zombie last night. He was responsible for tucking her in, too.

After making both her and her father safe from at least one of the threats on her life, Eden knew it was a debt she could never repay. Keeping him in the dark about her health—especially now that she was in his home—seemed duplicitous. At some point, she would need to come clean, no matter how difficult it was.

Sighing, she finally examined the room properly. There was an undeniable charm in the layout—and the décor. Abstract art, the kind one would expect to see in art galleries, framed the walls. Some, like the impressive pencil sketch of a boat near the doorway, were to her taste, while others were decidedly not. The room had a nautical theme, with an anchor type decoration plastered against one wall and a fishnet-style blanket covering the arm of a soft blue and white pinstriped chair in the corner.

Over to her right, there was an airy bathroom that beckoned, and she made quick work of showering and turning into something a little more human.

The sounds of children playing outside brought a smile to her lips. Chicago, for all its merits, was not family-friendly, and she couldn’t imagine raising a child in a high-rise apartment. Not that she’d ever have the chance now. The thought made her shiver.

By the time her hair looked acceptable, and her under-eye bags had disappeared beneath a thin layer of concealer, she was ready to face the world. Eden threw on a vibrant green sundress and called it good. Almost timid, she stepped into the hallway.

“Nero?”

His answer was instantaneous. “Down here!”

Padding down the ultra-soft carpeting of the stairs, Eden folded her arms self-consciously across her stomach, feeling out of place amidst the grandeur of Nero’s home.

It truly was a mansion. In her sleep-deprived haze last night—this morning?—she hadn’t gotten a good look. A grand piano sat amid comfortable looking chaise lounge chairs, breathtaking chandeliers focused the attention of the landing, and the walls were a shade of green eerily close to that of her eyes. Wood flooring, a warm walnut grey, ran the length of his home, from the two-story foyer to the kitchen she’d just entered.

She’d never dreamed of living anywhere as magical as this. Overhead, long wooden beams opened up the already airy space, the natural color accenting the stark whites and soft greys of the marble countertops and wooden cabinetry. Subway tiles raced across the backsplash below the large window that sat over the sink and looked out across the ocean. A wall wreath and a bowl of red apples that rested on the spacious center island were the only pops of color.

While she’d been gawking, Nero’s luscious sea salt cologne caressed her senses as he moved closer. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock. That bed is way more comfortable than mine is.” She smiled at him. “How about you? Did your insomnia strike again?”

“Surprisingly, no. Got a couple decent hours last night.”

“A couple is generally on the low end, Coffee Shop Cutie,” Eden coached. “I’m beginning to worry for your sanity.”

He shrugged. “I think the better discussion is whether the granite in my kitchen passes your test. I remember something about you being very opinionated about countertops.”

Snorting, Eden inspected it with a critical eye. “Top Ten.”

“Top Ten Worst or Top Ten Best?”

Her lips twisted in a sarcastic line. “I think I should make you wait. Keep on guessing. Wouldn’t that be cruel?”

“Kind of like torture?”

“I am an expert.” Winking, she let him off the hook. “I love this color, Nero. It’s gorgeous. The entire house is. My inner monologue has basically been an excerpt of Architectural Digest since I woke up.”

“I’m happy you like my home, Eden,” he replied, his voice low with honesty. “And I’m glad you agreed to join me here, even if it was to get away from theCitizens. Please, consider it yours for as long as you decide to stay. Mi casa es su casa.”

“You’re too kind, you know.”

“You might’ve mentioned it before.” He gestured to his kitchen. “Besides, if you hate any part of it, I’ll just rip it out and build a new one that meets your expectations. Now come in, the night air is chill, and you must need to eat and rest.”

Eden cleared her throat as she took a seat. “Never! It’s gorgeous. Don’t change your castle on my account, Count Dracula.”

The Bram Stoker reference and subsequent wink had managed to completely put her at ease. Nero had the ability to take any awkwardness between them and transform it into amoment that connected them. No man that handsome had the right to also be that kind and empathetic.

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