I didn’t have a cell phone to call him. My only option was to search for him in the castle. If I didn’t find him, one of his men would know where he’d disappeared to. I put on a pair of jeans and a sweater and walked downstairs. The first person I came across was Dimitri, the man who took Dunbar’s place when he’d been put on guard duty. He gave me a quiet scowl but didn’t say anything. His hands were held together at his waist, his gun on his hip. He didn’t draw his weapon or insult me, but his eyes did enough damage on their own.
I walked into Crewe’s office and found it vacant. His laptop was closed and everything was neat and tidy, like he hadn’t used it at all. I took a look around to see if he left any clues behind, but there was nothing.
I walked back outside and saw another guard in the hallway. He gave me the same derisive look as Dimitri and kept walking.
At least they wouldn’t touch me.
I walked to the front door where Dunbar stood. In dark jeans and a black jacket, he looked as deadly as Dimitri. He kept his arms over his chest like he had no intention of hurting me, but I wouldn’t push my luck. “I’m looking for Crewe. Do you know where he is?”
He stared at me in silence.
I knew I wasn’t going to get an answer out of him. “When I do see Crewe, I’ll let him know how accommodating you were.” I turned around and retreated, knowing Crewe would turn up sooner or later.
“He left a few hours ago.”
I turned around. “Where did he go?”
“He took the Jaguar and left on his own. I’m not sure where he went.”
He and Ariel must have gotten into a fight. “Can I call him from your phone?”
“Unlikely that he would answer.”
“Can I at least try?”
He sighed before he pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it over.
I found his name in the address book and hit send. I listened to it ring four times before Crewe finally answered.
“Yes?” The single word told me exactly how he was feeling. He was in a particularly bad mood. Something must have happened with Ariel today.
“It’s me.”
He sighed into the phone like my voice was displeasing to him.
“When are you going to be home?”
“Stop acting like my wife. I’ll be home when I feel like being home.”
He was definitely drunk. “A heads-up would have been nice.”
“Don’t owe you a damn thing.”
I could actually hear the sound of his glass hitting the hardwood table at the bar where he sat. Or maybe it was just part of my imagination. I didn’t want to start our new relationship like this, but I couldn’t let him talk to me that way. “We can do this in two different ways. You can be a real man and come home to me. You can tell me what you’re so pissed off about, and I can help you through it. Or you can keep acting like the biggest asshole on the planet and sleep alone tonight. Which path do you want to take?”
Silence.
“I’m hanging up, then.”
“I’ll be home in twenty minutes,” he said with a growl.
“Can you drive? I’ll have Dunbar pick you up.”
“I’m fine.”
I wasn’t buying it. “Dunbar is picking you up. Tell him where you are.” I handed the phone back to Dunbar. “Get him home in one piece.”
Crewe got home after midnight. His suit was no longer crisp because he’d been slouching in it all night at the bar. He tossed his expensive watch on the table like it wasn’t worth more than a car. When he took off his jacket, he threw it on the floor like he didn’t give a damn.
I was sitting up in bed reading when he walked inside. I hoped he’d had a chance to sober up on the drive home, but my expectations weren’t high. The fact that he was happy last night and took such an unexpected turn told me something significant happened. He didn’t just have a fight with Ariel. Something serious went down.
He didn’t look at me as he undressed. He made a pile of his clothes on the floor and kicked his shoes off like he was a child. He stripped all the way down until he was naked, and in all his glory, he looked nothing like a child. He was over six feet of man vertically, and nine inches of man horizontally.
He pulled the sheets back and got into bed like nothing happened. He lay on his back and immediately closed his eyes.
I didn’t say a word because I assumed he was so drunk he was about to pass out. Maybe it was best to let him sleep it off before I interrogated him in the morning.
He suddenly turned over and got on top of me, pinning me to the mattress and sticking his tongue down my throat. He didn’t give any warning before he kissed me and separated my thighs with his knees.
For a moment, I just went with it because that’s what my body was used to. But when I remembered he was being a dick all night, I shoved him off. “Crewe, what the hell are you doing?”
“Fucking you. Was that not clear?”
“Well, I’m not in the mood to be fucked right now.”
“I’ve never heard you say that before,” he said with a dead serious expression.
I pushed my hand against his solid chest and forced him on his back. “Just go to bed, Crewe.”
“You expect me to sleep with this thing?” He nodded to his hard cock that lay against his stomach.
“You can do whatever you want with it. But I’m going to bed.” I set the book on my nightstand and turned off the lamp.
He lay back and sighed, his hands finally off me.
I’d never seen Crewe this drunk before. That meant he’d exceeded his personal record in scotch drinking—which was a lot. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t even go to work tomorrow. Having a deep conversation about his problems simply wasn’t possible right now.
“Lovely?” His hand moved for mine in the darkness.
“Hmm?”
His fingers wrapped around mine, his fingertips warm. “I apologize.”
“For?”
“For earlier,” he whispered. “The way I spoke to you. I can’t remember what I said, but I know it wasn’t good.”
He wasn’t the kind of man to apologize for anything, so when he showed his remorse, I knew it was heartfelt. “We can talk about it in the morning.”
“Just accept my apology.”
“I will later.” When we could have a completely coherent conversation.
“I just…need to know you’ll be here when I wake up. So please accept my apology.” His heavy words surrounded us even though he didn’t raise his voice. They contained more emotion than I was used to hearing from him. Crewe was an aggressive drunk, but he was also honest.
“I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
“When you were gone…I was so fucking miserable. I had all the money in the world but still felt like shit.”
I turned to look at him in the darkness. His eyes were closed and he faced the ceiling, and his eyebrows moved as he spoke to me.
“So…don’t leave.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise me.” He’d never expressed any hint of need. He showed his affection but always kept me at a distance. But now all his walls were down.
“I promise, Crewe.”
He finally dropped the argument and relaxed, his hand still in mine.
I was still angry with him, but I couldn’t resist his vulnerability. Crewe didn’t show his true colors to anyone, including me, but he let me see his heart on his sleeve. I moved to his side of the bed and wrapped my arm around his waist and rested my head on his shoulder.
His arm immediately moved across mine, and he turned his face into me, his lips resting against my hairline. His smell washed over me, along with the overpowering scent of gin. Maybe it wasn’t gin, but I was so used to smelling scotch on him that I could tell he hadn’t been drinking it.