Page 28 of Her Ex's Father
I clutch the sheet tighter. “What do you want?”
“I came to ask—” He cuts himself off, like whatever the question was has just fallen clean out of his head. His gaze is dark, restless, the same look he had right before he shoved me against the wall in the resort suite.
He steps inside, letting the door swing shut behind him. The space feels instantly smaller.
“Ben,” I warn, but it comes out softer than I’d like.
His eyes meet mine, and for a second, neither of us moves. I can see his pulse in his throat. Feel the tension rolling off him like heat from a fire.
It would be so easy to make another mistake.
His hand twitches at his side, like he’s fighting the urge to reach for me. My grip on the sheet tightens, because I’m not sure if I’d stop him.
Then, just as quickly, he takes a step back. Another. His gaze drags over me one last time before he wrenches it away entirely.
“Lock the damn door if you want privacy,” he says, and his voice is rough.
He’s gone before I can answer.
I stand there for a long moment, staring at the empty doorway, the sheet clutched tight to my chest, my heartbeat still pounding like it hasn’t gotten the memo that the danger’s passed.
The tub is still waiting in the bathroom, the water steaming. I let the sheet fall and sink into it, the heat lapping at my skin. For the first time in a week my muscles relax.
A cold bath might have been smarter.
Because now, with the water swirling around me and the mountain silence pressing in, I can still feel the ghost of his eyes on me.
Later in the evening, I take a deep breath and step out into the hallway.
Out of my suite.
Hugh gives a good tour, but I’m curious; I want to know more about the man who locks himself away here. Barefoot, it’s easy to tiptoe down the hallways, feel the plush runners between my toes. The evening sunlight through the windows is beautiful, but it also brings attention to the fact that there are more windows facing the back of the property—and the spread of nature, acres and acres of it—than at the front of the home, facing civilization.
Is it just privacy that Benedict Bronson wants?
With my eyes on the golden-hued horizon, I completely miss the person turning the corner.
“Oh—I’m so sorry!”
It’s a woman I recognize, though it takes me a second to place her. She’s pretty in a severe and tired kind of way, her grey eyes sharp, her dark hair lobbed off at the shoulders.
“Madeline.”
“Um, yes…”
A Cheshire cat smile curls her lips. “I’m Caroline,” she supplies, and I swear I could bang my head against the wall for being so stupid. Of course—Derrick’s aunt. Or… “Ben’s sister.”
I smile weakly, feeling suddenly like I’ve never looked stupider with my hands at my sides, aimless and guilty. “I apologize. I probably shouldn’t be wandering.”
Her grin sharpens, a blade that could cut into me if she wanted. A vague memory of her at the reception comes back—watching, eagle-eyed, and seeming to enjoy herself. Maybe she’sjust another gossip monger, but I need to play nice, at least for now.
“Not at all. This is your home too now, Maddie. You can wander as much as you want.” Her eyes flicker to the windows, then behind me down the hall. “You should know that this late in the evening Benedict usually takes a walk on the trails.”
O…kay. Not exactly sure what to do with this information, I try to fight a frown. Then there’s a brief ripple of kindness in Caroline’s face. “I, on the other hand, prefer to stay inside. Did you know that we have cougars in Aspen? And grizzlies?”
She shudders as I laugh.
“Eh, that doesn’t worry me too much. We saw grizzlies now and then on the ranch, but I agree—I wouldn’t want to be stalked by a mountain lion. And it’s getting close to dusk.”
