“Yeah, because that’s not the least bit creepy.”
“Where you’re concerned, I’ll be as creepy as necessary to make you happy.”
I bit my tongue, though I wanted to remind him that what would make me happiest was freedom. It wouldn’t do any good.
“Don’t stop now. Get all the sweetness you want.” He licked the tines of his fork, his tongue doing things to me that I refused to acknowledge. “I intend to.”
I pulled my napkin from my lap and slapped it on the dark wood table. “I’ve had enough.”
“Off to bed, then?” He rose. “I’m game.”
“I’d prefer to go back to the library.”
“So you can fall asleep in front of the fire, alone?” He tsked. “I think not. Your place is with me.”
He’d seen right through me. Damn him.
I plucked my fork from the plate and took another bite. “In that case, I think I’ll enjoy a leisurely dessert. Is there coffee?”
He sank back into his chair, amusement brightening the depths of his unfathomable eyes. “Of course. Anything you want.”
I’d waited him out, eaten almost all of my cheesecake, and drank my coffee until the last cup began to go cold. The large clock in the foyer struck midnight, and I desperately wanted to curl up somewhere and sleep away this nightmare of a day.
“Have you had enough?” He lounged comfortably, though his large frame made the ornate dining chair squeak whenever he shifted.
“I’m tired.”
“I know.” He stood. “It’s past your bedtime.”
I needed to rest, to think, to get a clear idea of how I was going to get out of this mess. Even if that meant I’d have to sleep in his bed. I’d just hug the edge again as I’d done the previous night.
“You win.” I rose, hoping he hadn’t noticed that I’d tucked the fork inside my sleeve.
“I won the moment I found you.” His tone was soft, and his eyes were uncharacteristically warm, as if he believed I was some priceless treasure he’d stumbled upon.
I took a step, and my ankle twinged. I stopped and grabbed onto the back of my chair. The run must have irritated an old tennis injury I’d gotten in high school.
He grabbed my elbow. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” I took another step, testing my ankle. “I’m fine.” It hurt more with the second step, so I stopped.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” I took a halting step.
He swooped me into his arms in a quick movement. I squeaked my surprise.
“Hey!” I glared up at him.
“Rita, have Timothy bring some ice to my room,” he called toward the kitchen as he carried me into the hallway.
“I can walk.”
“You’re in pain.” He clutched me to his chest, carrying me as if I weighed no more than a toddler. “I don’t want that.”
Confusion reigned in my mind as he ascended the stairs. “You don’t make any sense.”
“Don’t I?” He climbed to the first landing, then turned left toward his room. “I tend to find I’m effortlessly logical.”
“I’m in pain because you’ve kidnapped me. But you don’t seem to mind that pain at all.”
“That’s not real. It’s passing.”
“You don’t know that.”
He used the hand under my legs to enter the door code. “I do. The pain you feel now is just a pale ghost compared to the happiness you’ll feel once you realize the truth like I have.”
“What truth?”
“That you and I are two parts of a whole.” He sat me on the bed and knelt. His warm hands slid along my foot to my ankle.
“First, that’s insane. Second, I’m fine.”
He ignored me and pulled up my jeans leg to get a better look. “You have some bruising.”
“It’ll go away.” Somehow, him being kind was the worst of all. “Please stop.”
He looked up at me, his brow furrowed. “Why?”
“I don’t want your help.” I scooted back on the bed and crossed my legs.
“You’re getting it anyway.”
A knock sounded at the door, followed by the button presses.
Timothy walked in, his eyes bleary from sleep, a bucket of ice in one hand and a bag of frozen peas in the other. “Rita insisted on the peas.” He handed all of it to Sebastian.
“I take it you haven’t reconsidered helping me?” I asked.
Timothy didn’t even look at me.
“That’s all.” Sebastian dismissed him and turned to me. “Take your pants off. In fact, strip all the way.”
“No.” I hugged my middle.
Sebastian sighed and set the bucket and peas on the floor next to the bed. “Why do you have to do everything the hard way?”
“Just leave me alone.” I moved farther back and pressed the fork against my skin, its presence reminding me I had the semblance of a weapon.
“Not going to happen.” He stalked me around the bed. “I need to ice your ankle.”
“Get away.” I tried to skitter to the other side of the bed, but he grabbed my good leg and yanked me to the edge, then held me in place by my upper arms.