I watched him leave the room, my posture slumping as soon as he was gone. I could feel the beginning of a headache coming on. The fluidity in which Alaric went from charming and disarming to intimidating and cold from threw me off kilter.
I was flustered--completely out of my depth. I had no experience dealing with someone like him. Had it not been for this unusual circumstance I doubted I’d ever meet anyone remotely similar.
He returned with two glasses in each hand, reclaiming the high-backed chair across from me.
“Here you go.”
As I accepted, I realized that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Meg had been gone less than two weeks, why would he have taken it off so soon? I thanked him for the wine and took a generous sip, trying to gather my thoughts.
A bitterly sweet taste exploded on my tongue. I could easily of downed an entire bottle of whatever red this was. I took one more sip, using it to dredge up the nerve for my question.
“How did my sister die?”
“I was wondering how long it was going to take you to ask me that,” Alaric answered without hesitation. “Megan was sick. For quite some time.”
His vocal inflection didn’t change, but the last part of his sentence felt like a direct jab.
“She told me she was getting better.” Hearing the defensiveness in my tone I gripped the entire top part of the glass instead of the stem.
“Megan told people a lot of things.”
“Meaning?”
With a sigh that I perceived as him being annoyed by my line of questioning or not ready for it, he pushed his dish away and leaned back. “It means what it exactly what it sounds like. Things with your sister were never black and white. Anything she said was either the truth or an elaborate lie.”
“And you?” I shot back.
“What about me?”
“Are you an elaborate lie?”
He angled his head to the side, contemplating me with undeniable scrutiny. “What do you think?”
“Not a fair question. I don’t know you personally.”
“I’ll make sure that changes.”
His words rang with a promise, carrying a hint of darkness that needled something inside me that was unsettling.
With no response in my arsenal and my mouth suddenly feeling dry, I diverted my gaze and took yet another sip of wine.
CHAPTER FIVE
My mind was blank.
A sort of fuzziness came rushing at me hot on the heels of a pounding headache. With a groan, I peeled my eyes open, finding myself facing an unfamiliar wall.
“Catalina?” A deep timbred voice called to me from the other side of a door. Upon hearing it, all the memories from the day before returned to me.
I sat up abruptly, cursing myself for drinking as much as I had.
“Yes?” I replied, cringing at the croaking sound that came from my throat.
The door swung open to reveal Alaric, dressed today in a navy button down and black slacks. His hair was damp, the brown strands darker because of it. He was disturbingly stunning.
“I didn’t want to wake you, but I wanted to show you your sister’s things before heading out for the day.” His icy gaze drifted down my body, pausing at my breasts.
Feeling my nipples press against the fabric of my tank top, I realized I wasn’t wearing a bra. Feeling self-conscious, I crossed my arms and searched the floor, seeing no signs of it. I didn’t remember taking it off. I couldn’t remember coming to bed at all.
This was what I got for drinking. I doubted I’d even taken my medication.
“Did you lose something?”
I stilled, returning my attention to the man lingering in the doorway.
“Uh, nothing important.” No way in hell was I going to mention my missing bra or the fact I had no clue how it ended up that way.
“Okay, well, I’ve got coffee on. Come grab a cup when you’re ready.” He began to close the door, offering a smile that had his sexy dimple surfacing.
The second he was gone I dropped my forehead to the palm of my hand and massaged my temples. No more wine. Ever. I should’ve known better. I was the ultimate lightweight and it didn’t taste good enough to feel like this after consuming it.
Spotting my cell on the nightstand, I tapped the screen to see what time it was, getting nothing.
It’d run out of juice. I put it back down, simultaneously tossing the comforter off me. I was struck by an overwhelming urge to relieve my bladder. I searched the floor for my bra as I walked to the bathroom. Where the heck was it?
I hobbled to the toilet. Pulling the door open, I spotted the silken garment on the floor. I still didn’t remember taking it off, but it was easy to imagine me doing so in a drunken haze.
I scooped it up, thumbing the cups as I did my business. Remembering Alaric said he had to be somewhere, I decided to skip a shower for now. I brushed my teeth and rinsed my mouth, doing a quick wash of my face.