They walked in silence to the main floor as he turned on lights and music using his cell. The trail led them to the oversized great room, which opened to the state-of-the-art kitchen. She bypassed both and stopped in another room at the back of the house, the dining room, with its soaring windows and papers strewn all over the tabletop. Papers that outlined and analyzed a horrific part of her life.
Emery walked by the built-in bar and stopped at the head of the table. She shuffled a few pages around before moving them to the side. Scanned the document left on top. “You’ve been working.”
That sounded neutral. Sort of. “I promised you I would help.”
She looked up. “And you keep your promises.”
He had no idea where this conversation was going or even what it was about, but he needed to face the spur of the moment choices he made earlier. Grabbing on to the top of a chair, he stood directly across from her. “Look, I know I messed up tonight.”
“How?”
Her head tilted to the side in that sexy way that had his breath stuttering inside his chest. She had that power. The strength to push on over unimaginable pain. The smarts to build a life outside the shadow of her well-respected father and the girl who vanished in an unspeakable instant. The drive to find him, to make him step up. She could read him and had him reorganizing parts of his life to include her.
He’d never met another woman like her. Never had one sneak under his defenses. Never been pulled in and whipped around. Never lowered the shields. And never had more trouble keeping up with a conversation. Her mind moved and he struggled to match her. “I don’t understand the question.”
“I’m wondering if you really know what you did wrong.” She pulled out a chair and sat down. Looked comfortable and right lounging there in his house.
“It’s the control thing.” He thought that summed up most of his personality.
“See, I think you really don’t understand how far over the line you stepped.” She drummed her fingers on the nearest paper stack. “I mean, you get it on some level, mostly because I got angry and your friend Garrett seemed shocked by your behavior. But I think you’d do it again.”
If it meant keeping her safe? Hell, yeah. “I wouldn’t use the plane a second time.”
Her eyebrow lifted. “You think the only issue was your choice of transportation?”
She didn’t sound angry, but he wasn’t taking any chances. “No.”
“Good guess.” The chair creaked as she got up again. She wandered into the kitchen, dragging her fingertips along the stone countertop, and slipped behind the island to stand by the sink. “Water?”
“Right.” Of course she needed a drink. He could use something stronger, but water worked. He joined her, stopping only to open the refrigerator and grab two bottles. “Do you want a glass?”
“No need.” She unscrewed the cap and took a long drink. Playing with the cap, she looked around. “This isn’t what I thought your house would look like.”
“You were expecting a cave?” He turned around to lean against the counter and face her. His outer thigh brushed against hers, but neither of them moved away.
“More like a bunch of cold marble and fancy expensive lights.”
“I strike you as fancy?” He fought the urge to scan the open area. Not that he needed a reminder. He’d picked out everything that went into his house. Moved in, stripped out all the shiny mirrors and stone floors. Replaced every slick surface. Switched to weathered hardwoods and furniture he actually wanted to sit on.
He wasn’t home all that often, so when he was he wanted it to actually feel like a home. Something he never had growing up. A place to relax, not a prop for his father’s court case.
She shook her head. “Not really.”
“Then I don’t understand this conversation.” A usual occurrence with her. He was growing accustomed to the sensation of being one step behind when dealing with her. At first it bothered him. Now he waited for the what-the-hell-is-she-talking-about moment to arrive every time he saw her.
She stepped in between his outstretched legs. “Did your wife decorate it?”
Ah, that’s what this was. An information-gathering session. Made sense. He could handle this. “She never lived here. We were divorced long before I started Owari, back when the only money I had was what I’d earned working for Quint.”
She glanced behind her then back to him. “The comfortable chairs and big stone fireplace are all you?”
She seemed to be confused about the concept of him living alone. “Who else would they be?”
“A designer.”
Now there was a nightmare thought. “I barely let Garrett in here.”
“Good point.” She set the water bottle on the counter next to him and eased in a bit closer. “What was her name?”
He didn’t pretend to be confused. “Shauna.”
“Do you still love her?”
A smart man would hedge, throw out a line, but he promised he’d never do that. Shauna deserved more respect than that. He blew it, not her. “I’ll always love her.”
Some of the light left Emery’s face. “I see.”
“You don’t.” He set his bottle down next to hers and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “The problem was that I was never in love with her. We were friends who survived shitty upbringings. We gravitated toward each other. Got each other out and away from the mess.”