“The truth,” I tell him honestly.
“Have you ever heard the phrase what you don’t know might hurt you?” Dare asks, his eyes laser sharp as he stares into mine.
I nod.
“Well, what you do know might hurt you too. Don’t snoop. You probably won’t like what you find. You have to let it come to you.”
“I wasn’t… I wasn’t snooping,” I manage to offer. “I don’t know what I was doing.”
Dare steps back, releasing me.
He’s tall and slender and strong, and he makes me a bit breathless.
“That’s probably your first issue,” he tells me. “If you don’t know what you’re doing, you’ll never get anywhere. Get out of this dark alley, Calla. It’s not safe here.”
He points at the entrance, and when he does, I see them.
The flowers he dropped on the ground.
Roses, stargazers and carnations.
My heart thuds and I do what I’m told. When I hit the sidewalk and emerge into the daylight, I turn, but he’s already gone. So are the flowers.
I find the nearest shop, find my toiletry items and am back to the car well within the hour. I wait inside for Dare to return, and with each minute that passes, I wonder what I’ll say to him.
But I don’t have to decide.
Because finally Jones pokes his head into the back.
“Apparently, Mr. DuBray isn’t coming right now. I’ll come back for him later.”
I nod silently and allow Jones to drive me back to Whitley.
Without even realizing it, I watch for the limo to go back out and return with Dare, but it never does. I don’t know how Dare manages to get back home.
I know he does, though. Because in the middle of the night, I’m woken from a troubled sleep by a noise I can’t define. I lay for a minute, trying to wake up enough to clear my mind, and I finally realize that it’s piano music drifting through Whitley’s halls.
I grab my robe and follow the haunting notes, finding myself in the salon.
I linger quietly in the massive doorway, watching Dare play the piano with the grace of a master. His long fingers drift across the keys and he stares out the window while he plays, his eyes absently watching the moors outside through the windows. The notes of the piano are haunting and low, delicate and high, and everywhere in between.
He doesn’t know I’m here, and I want to keep it that way, because right now, while he thinks no one is watching, Dare DuBray looks absolutely and heart-wrenchingly vulnerable.
He looks open and casual, thoughtful and real.
It’s the first real emotion I’ve seen on him.
It intrigues me, particularly since there isn’t a trace of his trademark arrogance.
For a moment, I forget his rudeness from earlier. All I can think of is how very different he seems right now.
This is the person I love, the person I don’t truly want to live without.
I’m so lost in my thoughts about him that I don’t even realize that he’s stopped playing. He’s staring at me by the time I realize it, and the guard is back up in his eyes.
“Do you need something, or are you just taking a walk at 3 am?” he asks, his voice low and calm.
I shake my head. “No, I was just on my way to the kitchens.”
“You must be turned around. They’re on the opposite side of the house,” he tells me evenly. I’m busted.
“Dare, what’s your secret?”
Because I have to know.
He stares at the keys, at his hands that are playing them.
“I can’t tell you.”
I nod, because I was expecting that.
I turn around, but then I pause.
“You play beautifully.”
He doesn’t answer, and I walk away.
Chapter 12
Moonlight sweeps across the hallway, illuminating the heavy furniture and expensive rugs. I’m unfazed by it as I leave Dare at his piano and continue down the hall.
I need to know what is being hidden from me.
I feel like everyone knows it but me.
Dare.
Sabine.
My father.
Even Eleanor.
If I were hiding something here, where would I put it?
The answer is immediate.