But whatever.
She took another small spoonful of soup, and then looked at the pills next to her bowl. Once she had enough food in her belly, she’d take them, but she was nowhere near ready for that yet. They made her sick enough as it was.
Silence wrapped around her house, so all-consuming she could hear the clock down the hall as the minutes ticked by. Normally, silence didn’t bother her. She’d been an only child growing up and had always been used to entertaining herself, but lately silence, emptiness, the very aloneness of her life was getting to her.
When a bell chimed, alerting her to a visitor seeking entrance at the gates of her home, she eyed the pills in her hand. “I’d like to use this as an excuse to not take you,” she said sourly.
But she didn’t. Popping the pills back, she washed them down with ginger ale and moved to the console for the security system set up beside her phone. It featured a small screen, showing her the face of her visitor.
Dash seemed to sense her staring at his image and he flashed her a wide grin. “You might as well open up, gorgeous. I let you break our last two dates, but sooner or later, you have to come out of your cave. We start work in just over a week.”
She stuck her tongue out at the monitor. One press of the button had her talking to him. “I’m not in a cave, thank you. This is a very nice house and I’m enjoying some R&R before I put my nose to the grindstone again.”
“It’s a very nice cave,” Dash said. “And you’re hiding for some reason. Open up and let me in or I’ll blow the house down.”
“First it’s a cave, now it’s a house . . . is it made of hay, sticks, or bricks?” She couldn’t resist smiling at him, though. He was easy to talk to and he was . . . comfortable.
Wonderful thing to say about the guy. She liked going out with him because he was comfortable. He was gorgeous, he knew how to kiss, and he made her feel comfortable.
Making a face, she pushed the button that unlocked her gates. “Come on in. I’ll unlock the front door, so let yourself inside. I need to clean up a little.”
“Sure thing, beautiful.”
The gates would swing closed once he was past the sensors so without waiting, she carried her ginger ale off with her and headed up the stairs. She had soaked in a hot bath last night—she had planned on a taking another one, but that wasn’t going to happen until Dash left.
She heard him calling up to her just as she pulled the brush through her hair one last time. “I’m coming. Impatient jerk,” she said, shaking her head.
He laughed. “You love me.”
Snorting, she started down the stairs. Her belly did a slow flip, reminding her of the pills she’d taken.
The pills.
Shit.
Ignoring what the rush did to her uneasy stomach, she all but flew down the steps. Seeing Dash leaning against the counter, she gave him a wide smile and slowed to a casual walk. “So, how are you? Ready to get to work?”
Moving past him, she shot a furtive look to the table and saw the two bottles there.
In response to her nerves, her stomach did a rude flip-flop and she had to bite her inner lip to keep the nausea under check.
“Not really. They sure as hell are rushing this, but I’ll manage. How are you doing?” He came up behind her and caught her in a hug, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You’ve been avoiding everybody, hiding out like some criminal. Have you been on the run, Marin? Going deep underground or something? Nobody has seen hide nor hair of you the past few days.”
“Ha, ha.” She turned her head and pressed a casual kiss to his cheek before tugging away from him.
It was probably the kiss that ruined things.
While they’d been out on a couple of dates and while she enjoyed his company, Dash had been the one to make every move.
Every single one of them.
And he paid just a little too much attention when she casually pulled away from him and headed over to the table, just as casually picking up the bottles and dumping them in a drawer. After she’d done that, she picked up her bowl and took a bite, then grimaced because the soup had gotten cold. She put it into the microwave to reheat and when she turned, she saw Dash.
He was holding a bottle of her pills—the most incriminating one.
“Darling . . .” He slid his gaze from the pills to her face. “Well, I know one thing. It can’t be mine. I’m still trying to get to second base with you.”
***
Sebastien saw the car parked in front of Marin’s house and wanted to bite something.
Or punch something.
Naturally the first thing that came to mind was the owner of the car.
Dash would have made an excellent target, except for the fact that he hadn’t really done anything wrong.
Jaw clenched, Sebastien stared down at the low-slung vintage Ferrari. Sebastien wasn’t as into cars as some, but he remembered hearing somewhere that Dash’s favorite toy was a 1961 Spyder. It was sleek, sexy, and painted a dark blue that was just a few shades away from Marin’s eyes.