Chapter 14
ROARK
There’s that damn dinging again. I’ve come to my senses enough to know that it’s the candidate’s phone.
I pick it up from my nightstand. Jeff is not amused.
I, however, am thrilled. The dozen texts that come through shift from narcissistic rage that he’s been replaced to almost concern for her safety.
Babe, who is that?
He’s not me. You need me.
Babe, text me back. You’re not going to live there forever. He’s using you.
Babe.
Babe.
Babe, are you okay?
Is he in a biker gang?
Another message pops up. Wren, her sister, the one whose birthday she uses as the code to her phone.
Wren’s profile picture is a selfie with Raine and her, and it pops up when she texts.
Her hair’s lighter than Raine’s, but their noses are the same.
I suppose she’s attractive but not as much as Raine.
Wren: What the hell is going on, Rai? Jerk-off Jeff keeps texting me.
Also, I’m going to kill you for giving him my number.
He says you sent him a picture of some guy and you were asleep on his chest. I told Jeff that didn’t sound like you, and he sent me the picture.
Holy hell, Rai! Good move dumping Jerky Jeff.
New guy is hot as fuck, too. I want to see his face.
And those tats. Mom would have a heart attack. Makes it even better.
Wren: Rai? Seriously though. Jeff’s an ass, but he was a little nervous that you’ve been kidnapped and sold. Can you send me proof of life?
I find siblings so interesting. My brother’s gone. But I can see it now. Their smiles in the profile picture on Raine’s phone are the same too.
Fuck. It’s almost seven. I’m not sure when I last slept for eleven hours. I need to find Raine. She’s not our mate, but we don’t need her family sending in the Pontifical Swiss Guard. The feathers on their hats make my dragon salivate.
An alert goes off. It’s not an incoming message but rather the “find your phone” feature. It goes off again, and my door opens . . . at the same time that Wren sends another message.
Wren: I’m getting worried. Did you lose your phone again?
Raine is silhouetted by the light in the corridor. “You.”
“You,” I say back and snap a picture, sending it to her sister before turning her phone off. “Wren is worried about you. And you broke up with Jeff.”
“I broke up with Jeff three months ago when he slept with my coworker.” She holds her hand out. I place it on her soft, pale palm. “Why do you have my phone?” She slides it into her pocket.
“Jerky Jeff kept messaging you while I was eating my breakfast. It was annoying, and as head of security, I have the right to check the phones and social media of every staff person in the castle.” I’m ready to defend what I said.
It was in her acceptance paperwork. And that’s not a candidate-only item. There are things we have to protect.
“I read that.”
“Good, I’m glad you’re prepared.” There’s no way she’s prepared for us. “Did you have a good day?”
“Other than passing out in the pantry this morning, it’s been one of the most amazing days of my entire life.
I’ve held provenance papers that trace works through centuries and examined the delicate restoration techniques used on pieces that survived fires and floods.
I’ve sorted through amazing Impressionist masters—Mary Cassatt, Cézanne, Renoir.
Modern masterpieces by Georgia O’Keeffe and Jackson Pollock.
And the art from the Renaissance? There’s enough here to fill three museums. Botticelli, Titian, Michelangelo—things I’ve only seen from four feet away in museums in New York, Boston, and Pittsburgh.
Some artists I’ve only ever seen in books.
My mind is floating, and I’m overwhelmed.
I can’t imagine how any day could get better than today. ”
There’s a wee bit of something that might be guilt squeezing at me. She’s not going to like it when she reads her messages. “Well, I’m glad you had a good day.”
“Thank you. But I’m also wondering about how I got back to my room.”
“I carried you.”
“Oh.” Her hand pops up onto her hip. And I want to dive into her brain and find out what she’s thinking. I’m expecting follow-up questions, but she turns and steps toward the door. Holding on to the frame, she stops. “I’m thinking I might go into town after dinner.”
She just got here. “I see. I can see about having Percy drive you.”
“Percy.” She laughs.
“I fail to see why that’s funny.”
“It’s not. Forgive me, I’m slap-happy from today. I can call for a ride. It’s fine, and without having to pull my suitcase up the hill, the walk will be nice.”
“Where are you going? I can drive you if you don’t want Percy to take you.”
“I asked the chef in the kitchen. He said there’s a walk-in clinic. I’ve never fainted like that before. I feel fine now. I figure I should have them look at me.”
I laugh. “You don’t need to do that. You’re fine.”
“Chief of security and a doctor too. That’s impressive.”
“I’m not a doctor. But you’ll be fine.”
“How could you possibly know that?” Her hands are back on her hips, and her eyes are hooded. Oh, she’s a clever one.
I stand. “I can guarantee that it won’t happen again.”
“And I’m just supposed to believe you?” She steps forward into my circle of personal space.
And like a magnet, I inch forward. I don’t get close to people.
I don’t pull women into my lap. I don’t have the urge to spoon women.
I fuck them into bliss and leave. I don’t fantasize about kissing them or running my fingers through their hair.
I don’t long to feel the softness of them again.
Her chin tilts up, her eyes locked onto mine.
“Yes,” I say.
“Well, you’ve already read whatever new garbage Jeff sent me this morning and the rest of today, I suppose. So you know I’m not inclined to trust men because they say I’m supposed to. While I’m an art historian, there’s a scientist in my soul. I like proof.”
With her blue eyes staring into mine, it’s like she’s peering into my heart-stone. “Fine, I did it.”
“You drugged me?”
“No, I probed you.”
Her eyes flare wide. “You did what?”
“Wrong word, sorry, no. I didn’t touch you other than to bring you upstairs.” I leave off the hair petting. “The messages were annoying. And you had signed the waiver to allow your phone to be searched already. I took your passcode from your head.”
“You did what now? Somehow, and I don’t say this lightly, I think I would rather you probed me.”
“I will not probe you without your consent. And you would have no doubt about what I had done. No, I took the code from your mind. But you have a strong protective layer for a human.”
“Thank you, I think? I should go.” She doesn’t step away, though.
She thinks I’m crazy. I don’t know why it’s taken me this long to figure out the look on her face isn’t bewilderment but empathy.
She doesn’t believe me and thinks I’m some poor deluded fool.
I tap down the swirling in my gut. I fucking hate not being believed.
Almost as much as I hate empathy. I don’t need empathy.
I fucking hate empathy. “Your sister’s name is Wren.
Her birthday is in two weeks. She’ll be thirty.
You’re not happy you’re going to miss her party.
But she’s thinking of trying to get a trip to Switzerland soon.
” I’m not sure what that last part was about.
Raine’s defenses pushed me out of her head before they overwhelmed her senses and dropped her to the floor.
“You’re the chief of security. She’s my emergency contact person before my mom.
And a quick Internet search could have given you her birthday.
And if you unlocked my phone, you could have read all of my texts where we talk about her trading flights around so she can come visit me while I’m here.
” Her lips purse and her hip pops out to the side.
I close my eyes and try to remember a few more things that flicked through before she shut down.
“The sheets on your bed before you left were dark maroon. And it was a bunk bed. You were annoyed that someone didn’t strip their bed, and you had to do it one more time.
You thought about not doing it to serve them right, but then decided being petty on your last day wasn’t a good idea.
You might need to come back if this job sucks blue balls.
I was in your head, and it caused you to pass out. ”
“You were in my head.” Her index finger points at my bare chest. “How? I mean, can I learn how to do that?”
“No.” Out of anything she could have said, that’s the last thing I would have ever thought she would. “It’s not something a human can learn how to do. But I promise I won’t do it to you again. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m glad you don’t want to hurt me. What am I thinking right now?”
“No, Raine. I won’t do it. Not ever again. I promise you.” Fuck. I never promise anyone anything. Promises connect you to people. Promises lead to lies. I fucking hate promises.