Page 40 of The Master

I shook my head. “Not too much.”

He turned, the expression on his face saying he didn’t quite believe me. I reached out and grabbed his wrist, waiting until he turned back to me to speak again.

“I would have told you if I didn’t want to. Besides, I like the way I feel when we’ve been together.” I let go of his wrist as I tried to find the words to explain the complexity of what I felt. “Like every twinge reminds me that I…belong…”

He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “You dobelong.”

I didn’t need him to tell me, not when he’d given me a key, showing me that he trusted me to come in and out of his penthouse whenever I pleased. Still, it was nice to hear it.

I turned my attention to the meal in front of me. We didn’t need heavy dinner conversation. “What did you call this again?”

“Brown butter scallops.” He took his seat at the end of the table, close enough that we could touch, but far enough that we weren’t crowding each other.

I took a bite and closed my eyes, letting the flavors burst across my taste buds. I made a sound that was almost sexual because the food was almost that good. Sex wasn’t the only thing Nate excelled at.

“Damn,le soleil.” His voice was gruff. “If you keep that up, I’m going to come in my pants.”

I opened my eyes, blushing at the look he was giving me. He wanted me again, and I wanted him. My stomach, however, wanted more of this amazing food, and I listened to it for the time being. Everything couldn’t be all sex all the time between Nate and me.

No matter how good the sex was.

I needed to find a different subject, something as far from sex as possible.

“Have you heard anything about the letter?”

He blinked, the change in conversation clearly taking him off-guard. “The letter?”

“The one I found under my door. You said you were going to have your people look into it.”

He nodded, but my gut said he wasn’t answering my question, but rather acknowledging that he knew what I was talking about now. Something was off, but I figured I’d wait for his answer.

“Did they find anything?” I asked again.

He looked away, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “I haven’t heard anything back yet.”

I took a couple bites before offering a new question, one that was a little more specific. “What aren’t you telling me?”

A flash of guilt crossed his face. “I have a hunch about who wrote it.”

I waited, but when he didn’t add anything to it, I pointed my fork at him. “And?”

“I don’t want to smear anyone’s name if I’m wrong,” he said. “We both know how gossip can get out of hand.”

He had a point, but I refused to let things go that easily. “It’s not like I’m going to tell anyone.”

He really looked uncomfortable now. Whatever he knew, whoever he suspected, wasn’t a random thought. He had more than a hunch. My phone rang before he could respond to my statement, and since it was my mom’s ringtone, I answered it. He could think about what to say while I talked to her.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, Ash.”

Even with only those two words, I knew something was wrong.

“I need to see you tomorrow.”

My stomach twisted, the food I’d been enjoying now a lump. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not going to lie and say everything’s great, but I need to wait. I need time to think, and it’s nothing I want to talk about over the phone. I just knew with everything else going on, you’d need at least some notice before you came out.”

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