Chapter 5 Heat In The Walls #2
“You OK?” he asked, concerned, “Is there something wrong?”
He wiped his forehead, and she glanced up at him for a quick second.
“No, nothing’s wrong. Just stay in your corner and I’ll stay in mine, alright?
I came up here for peace and quiet, and I intend on getting it.
” She turned to walk away, and the wind ripped through her sweater, causing goosebumps to appear on her neck.
At least she hoped it was the wind. He grabbed her by the arm gently as she started walking away.
“Hey,” he held her for a second, and she froze, her stomach twitching in anticipation. She looked up at him this time, and her legs grew weak.
“I’m chopping the wood for a fire because it’s gonna be one of the coldest nights we’ve had in a while. Perhaps we can get to know one another, instead of avoiding each other the entire time?” he asked.
Here we go again. He looked so sincere —no smugness or arrogance detected —so she nodded in agreement.
“Will it get you to leave me alone for the rest of my vacation?”
“Perhaps.”
“Then I’ll be there,” she replied and turned to walk away, but he still held on, and she looked at his hand, then back up to him.
“May I have my arm back?”
He smiled and loosened his grip, and she headed for the house.
She wondered if he was watching her leave, but fought the urge to turn around to see.
Once she was back inside, she closed the patio doors and looked over her shoulder at him.
He stood there, still watching with his hands on his hips, and their eyes locked again.
He gave her another wink, and she turned away from him, focusing her eyes on the couch, and couldn’t wait for the fire.
The loud crack of the ax resonated through the house, signifying he had returned to his task at hand.
She quickly stole another glimpse of him while he wasn’t looking.
A faint smile crept onto the corners of her mouth as she walked back up the staircase and was very interested in learning what he would reveal about himself, if anything at all.
It would definitely be an interesting night one way or another, but her expectations weren’t very high.
AFTER EATING THE delicious chicken pot pie from the night before in her room, Lana decided it was time to go downstairs and face the music.
She’d spent most of the day up there since their earlier encounter in the garden and was ready for some human interaction.
The hallway connecting the two rooms on the second floor was dimly lit, and she could see that the door to Kayden’s was cracked a bit.
She slowly walked down the hall and couldn’t help sneaking a peek as she passed when he opened it.
She could see his bathroom door was open behind him, and the warmth of the shower steam and aroma of his cologne slapped her firmly in the face.
“Ready?” he asked, drying his hair with a towel, and her stomach tightened that familiar way again.
She nodded and quickly moved down the stairs ahead of him.
Every step her feet took, one of his would follow, his smell engulfing the small corridor of the stairway.
Once she reached the bottom, the entire house was beautifully lit by the fireplace.
The recessed lights throughout the house were also dimmed to a very low level, creating a warm, sensual atmosphere.
Through the windows, the sun was just beginning to disappear under the treetops, with dark purples and pinks of sunset drenching the sky.
The scene before her looked like a romantic diamond ring commercial where the guy eventually dropped to his knee and asked the giggly, overly happy girl to marry him.
Lana reached over to the wall and turned the dimmer bright, changing the illusion to the way the house normally looked.
Feeling the heat from his body up against her back, she felt tingly all over and went into the kitchen, where breathing would be a little easier.
She no longer trusted herself around him, not since the elevator incident earlier that morning.
“Why’d you turn the lights on?” he asked, “What’s the point of lighting the fireplace?”
He reached for the dimmer switch and turned it completely down.
The shadows and flickering from the fireplace illuminated the house instantly.
At least he’s wearing pants this time. No shirt, though, of course.
Only pajama bottoms, which were sitting low on his hips, exposing the band of his Calvin Klein’s.
She averted her eyes to the cold slab of granite on the kitchen counter, feeling herself get distracted already.
Kayden walked into the kitchen and reached for the double doors of the refrigerator, and she instinctively took a step away. Smirking at her unease, he pulled out a bottle of wine, and she rolled her eyes.
“Are you serious?” she asked.
“This is just a gift. My apologies for ruining your vacation.”
He set the bottle on the counter, and she eyed the bottle’s label. It was a 2007 Tenuta dell’Ornellaia. She knew her wines, and this one was about nineteen hundred dollars a bottle.
“You can open it or not, it’s your choice.”
“How do you even know I like wine?”
“I called my sister and asked,” he said with that grin.
Damn it, Paula. I forgot to call her and kill her.
Arms crossed, Lana walked over to the living room and sat on the couch next to the fireplace.
It was so grand you could almost walk into it.
It was also beautifully designed in a light stack stone that spanned the entire ceiling.
It was really spectacular even when not lit.
Kayden came in now, holding the bottle in one hand and an opener and a single wine glass in the other.
He set them on the coffee table in front of her and winked at her.
What is his deal? Is that just something he does, or does he think it’s charming enough to get me in bed?
She fought the urge to roll her eyes; sure, they’d fall out of her head.
She was so annoyed. The uncertainty of a person’s intentions bothered her more now as an adult than it ever had in the past.
He moved to the other side of the table and sat on the cream colored love seat, across from her. After a minute, he spoke.
“You’re not sure whether you like me or not,” he stated, as he leaned back on the couch and folded his arms behind his head.
Now she was getting pissed off. If he thinks this whole “look at me, I’m sexy” routine is getting him anywhere, he has another thing coming. Yes, she was attracted to him; she already admitted it to herself, but the more he acted that way, the less she liked him.
“Whatever gave you that impression?” she asked sarcastically and rolled her eyes.
He smiled.
“I can also tell you’re intimidated by me.”
He knew exactly what he was doing if he had thought that this whole time.
“I just don’t know you. You don’t intimidate me one bit,” she lied.
“Well, we’re both here, and we’ve established that neither of us is leaving, so get to know me. I promise I won’t bite.”
“Promises are a comfort to a fool,” she reached for the bottle and began to open it.
From the way things were starting, it was going to be a long night, and she could stomach it better if she were tipsy.
As she struggled with the cork, he reached over the table, placed his hand over hers, and took it from her.
His eyes glowed in the darkness, and the warmth of his huge, yet gentle, hand touching hers sent a bolt of electricity through her.
She felt herself reeling reluctantly and quickly removed her hand before she forgot that she couldn’t stand him—again.
He took the bottle, keeping his eyes locked on hers, but she turned her focus to the blazing fireplace. A gentle tug on the cork from his muscular arm, and the cork popped out with no effort. He poured her a glass and pushed it across the table to her.
“You’re really beautiful, you know that?” he asked as she reached for it.
She paused, surprised as she wasn’t expecting that to come from his mouth. She picked up the glass and drank half of it in one sitting.
“Not sure what to say to that,” she forced out finally, the wine burning her stomach.
“You could start with thanks.”
Lana downed the remainder of the wine and refilled her glass. She took a small sip this time and looked him in the eyes.
“So you wanted to get to know one another? You start.”
The wine was making her brave already, and she didn’t feel half as intimidated anymore. She was a lightweight, and drinking alcohol fast wasn’t a brilliant idea, but she needed to numb her very raw feelings.
“What do you want to know?” he asked.
“Let’s start with, where do you live? Where did you go to school?”
This would be interesting. She twirled the crimson liquid around her glass, letting the wine aerate more. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her intently. A defensive position already.
“I live in Atlanta and before that, New York, where I went to Cornell and majored in Architecture.”
Wow. She took another sip of her wine.
“A Cornell graduate?”
“Yes. Now you.”
“I live in Florida, where I went to the University of Florida and majored in Nursing. Why architecture?” she continued.
Lana was sure the decision had to do with his family’s business, but was still interested to hear it.
Not everyone chose to follow their parents’ footsteps, and something about them intrigued her.
He poured himself a drink from the decanter on the end table and took a sip.
As he leaned forward, holding his short glass tumbler, he seemed to struggle with what to say.
“My parents, naturally. They started a small company here when we were just kids. It expanded and eventually so did we.”
“And now you’re in charge of the company?” she asked, and he smiled.
“No. Not yet, anyway. My mother is still seated as the CEO, and when she’s ready to step down, I’ll take over.”