Blake’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “My parents are cold and manipulative. I’m not close to them, never have been. But I don’t think they would have done…”
His voice trailed off, and they drove in silence for at least half a mile, watching light poles whip by.
Erin had never voiced her fear of what exactly might have driven her mother out of the house all those years ago. It could have been anything. There was no reason to assume it was something truly bad, like inappropriate behavior or even an assault. And yet she couldn’t shake the possibility from her mind.
The fact that it would have been Blake’s father who had done it made her stomach turn over. Not because she would blame Blake—she wouldn’t. He hadn’t even lived in the house at the time, having left for college and never returning. But because some part of her wondered if he’d believe, even want to believe her, if she somehow found out it were true.
The same thing had happened with her only other serious boyfriend. He’d said he didn’t have a problem with what her mother did for a living. But when the truth had come out, that his father had come on to her mother, Doug hadn’t believed her. Would the same thing happen again? She knew Blake was a better man than Doug, a stronger one, more honorable. But she couldn’t be certain he would back her up if the choice was between her and his family. She never wanted to find out.
But she knew very well that history repeated herself. Blake himself had taught her that in his class.
“Erin.” His voice had gone low. In warning? No, in worry.
Could he sense the distance between them? They were leaving his home but on some level it felt like leaving them, the way they were together, returning to who they were apart. “I don’t want anything that happens to come between us,” she said.
“God,” he said, his voice rough. “No, it won’t. Of course it won’t. I wouldn’t let anything come between us.”
That made her feel better, that he said it. That he clearly believed it. But she came from a world of leaky ceilings and broken dreams. She knew that wanting something to last wasn’t enough. She knew that fighting for something didn’t mean she’d get it.
She tried to smile. “I think I’m just overemotio
nal. I didn’t get enough sleep.”
“That was my fault too.”
“No,” she said, horrified she’d said it that way. He would take the blame himself. He’d take the blame for everything if she let him. “You can’t control the nightmares.”
He shook his head, pushing aside what he’d see as excuses. “Rest, baby. Recline the seat and sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”
She wanted to argue, to make him see she didn’t blame him. Not for last night, not for whatever his parents might have done. She wanted to tell him that nothing could break them apart. But with the seat lowered, sleep overcame her quickly.
She closed her eyes and dreamed.
Blake
The ornate iron gate rolled open before the car had come to a complete stop.
Blake nodded at the discreet security camera as he drove through. Whoever was manning the desk these days had obviously been informed of his impending arrival and recognized him. Mr. Henderson would have retired years ago, living off a stipend supplied by his parents. They took care of their servants. At least Blake had always thought so, despite whatever other flaws they had.
He intended to find out what happened with his father and the intern. He didn’t want to believe his father was capable of that. He didn’t believe his father was capable of it, but he would make sure. For Erin’s sake.
He stopped the car at the end of the drive. His parents would have been informed of his arrival by the staff, but they wouldn’t open the door until he knocked.
Erin was asleep, her lashes long on her cheeks, her pink lips slightly parted. She looked soft in the waning afternoon light, her skin almost glowing white against the orange horizon. Beautiful and untouchable and somehow vulnerable.
He suddenly didn’t want to wake her up.
Didn’t want to take her inside the house where he’d grown up. Didn’t want her exposed to whatever ugliness might have happened here. His father would never dare do anything to a guest, and Blake would never leave her side, but having her here felt wrong.
He hadn’t moved, hadn’t touched her, but she woke up anyway. Her eyes opened, deep brown and full of sleepy love for him. His heart thumped painfully against his chest.
“Hey,” he said, his voice hoarse.
She smiled, her expression still dreamy. “You’re thinking hard.”
That made him smile too. “It’s a character flaw.”
“It’s sweet.” Wakefulness entered her eyes, along with worry. “Are you afraid I’ll embarrass you in front of your parents?”