Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 132649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
She hadn’t once asked Iris how she was doing. Which Iris wouldn’t normally have noticed, only she’d really needed to talk about her increasing doubts about her career choice. That was when she’d recognized that most of their conversations centered around Evan and her life. Iris had picked up on this in the past but had always thought this was because her own life was so dull in comparison, but now that she had so much time with her thoughts, the disparity troubled her.
She set aside her disturbing contemplations about her friend and focused on Trystan’s question.
“Oh, yes please,” she replied, the words stumbling over each other in her panic that he would change his mind.
“It’s not raining, but the wind is icy, so bundle up. And wear those boots from yesterday, the ground is muddy and a little treacherous.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be back for you in fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Chapter Eight
He was careful not to touch her. That was the first thing Iris noticed when he came for her exactly fifteen minutes later. He walked close beside her and she could practically feel his big hand hovering above the small of her back, but no contact was made. He walked slower than his usual breakneck pace as he shepherded her, with just his body, through a spacious living room toward the very same door he’d tricked her through her first night here.
“Why aren’t you trying to shuffle me through here at your usual record-breaking pace? I mean I’m seeing things. Like those travel pics on the mantel.” She nodded toward the framed images above a gorgeous stone hearth that looked like it would be heavenly when in use. “And that fireplace. Do you enjoy that fireplace every night while I’m huddled in front of a measly radiator heater?”
“There’s no point in trying to hide our surroundings from you anymore, since you know whose house it is.”
Iris honestly didn’t know why it had been such a big secret in the first place. But she wasn’t going to ask because she knew he wouldn’t answer. Worse, he’d get pissed off with her for asking in the first place. And she couldn’t risk him rescinding the offer of a walk. It would destroy her morale.
“And I haven’t used the fireplace at all since I’ve been here.”
“God, what a crime,” she said with a disgusted click of her tongue. “What’s wrong with you? It’s there to be enjoyed.”
“Seems like a lot of work for just one person.”
“And a dog. Think about Luna, she’d love it.”
Luna’s tail swept indolently back and forth at the sound of her name.
Trystan’s lips curled as he unlocked the front door and stepped aside to allow her through.
Iris cast the open door a jaundiced look before turning her narrowed eyes on him.
“You’re not going to slam the door behind me as soon as I step through it, are you?”
The curl of his lips turned into a fully fledged grin before he ruthlessly curbed it and flattened his mouth. But the gleam of amusement was still evident in his eyes when he raised his brows at her in challenge.
“What do you think?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning a shoulder against the doorframe while he waited for her next move.
Iris’s eyes went from his smug face to the lush, wet, green landscape just beyond the front door and back again. The weather was gray and blustery, and the unwelcoming iciness was quickly seeping in through the front door, but the thought of getting some fresh air and, for once, not being drenched in the process, was too tempting to resist.
She threw back her shoulders, lifted her chin, and stepped over the threshold. She sucked in a breath at the shock of frigid air that hit the exposed skin of her face, and laughed in sheer exhilaration and joy when she exhaled an impressive cloud of steam seconds later.
“Oh my God,” she squealed. “It’s so cold. I didn’t think it could get that cold here.”
She was sure she heard him mutter, “That would explain the itsy-bitsy bikini.”
But when she asked him what he’d said he gave her a wide-eyed innocent look and said, “I didn’t say a damned thing.”
Iris didn’t call him out on the blatant lie—or the terrible acting—instead she eagerly took in her surroundings.
“It’s so pretty out here,” she exclaimed. They were standing in a courtyard surrounded by a neatly trimmed six-foot-high camellia hedge. She only recognized them because camellias were her mother’s favorite flower, and the pale pink blooms prolifically dotted the entire length of the hedge. She hadn’t known that the flowers could bloom in weather this cold, but how beautiful they looked in that verdant hedge, which surrounded a lovely natural pond. The space was alive with color from the myriad of winter-blooming plants and shrubs dotted all around the garden.