Page 23 of Twisted Truths

It’s like a hidden paradise.

“What the hell are you doing?”

I whip around with a startled gasp. Obsidian’s eyes are black as night, staring at me with an intensity so fierce I struggle not to run away from not only here but the manor completely.

“I… I…” I glance to the side to motion to the trail of sand that led me here, but I double-take, spinning all the way around. “It’s gone.” I blink several times, trying to make sense of how sand could somehow disappear without one grain visible.

“What’s gone?”

“Um…” I’ll sound like an idiot if I say I followed an imaginary path of sand that led me right to him. “Nothing. Sorry.”

He narrows his eyes and brings a joint to his lips, taking a pull off it. Deep, dark circles hang under his eyes, and his clothes are rumpled. His wavy hair on top looks mussed as though he’s run his fingers through it a thousand times. Despite all of that, he’s still the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in person.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I say.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re out here at the crack of dawn, looking like you just rolled out of bed.”

His gaze drops to my legs, and I remember that I’m standing in front of my boss sans bra or pants in only an oversized T-shirt. I pull at the hem of the shirt, trying to cover up.

“Don’t do that on my account. I’m enjoying the view.” He takes another pull off the joint, then tosses it on the ground and crushes it beneath his shoe.

“I didn’t think I’d see anyone. It’s so early.” I glance at the sky where the first tendrils of daylight are making an appearance.

Without a word, he walks over to a bench set to the side of the path. He flops down into it and leans back, legs spread and chin up, face pointed at the sky. Gone is his usual suave nature. There’s something forlorn about his presence.

Getting the hell out of here would probably be smart, but for some reason, I can’t make my bare feet move. Instead, I walk toward Obsidian, although tentatively. He’s the definition of a closed book, but something in my gut tugs me his way.

“What are you doing here? Have you been up all night?”

He lifts his head to look at me when I come to stand in front of him. “That obvious?”

I shrug. “Kinda. You on a bender?”

He chuckles low in his throat, but there’s no humor there. “I wish. No, nothing like that.” Obsidian heaves out a sigh, and it sounds so tired, so sad, that I draw closer.

“Are you all right?”

Seeing a man as powerful as him like this is strange. The Obsidian who showed up in his office all week was a five-foot-thick concrete wall, like nothing could pierce his exterior. But the man in front of me this morning is so far removed from that persona. Somehow, I instinctively know that the man here this morning is the one I saved from drowning on that beach.

He doesn’t answer my question. He just continues to stare at me.

“Do you want me to leave?” I ask when the silence stretches too thin.

He slowly shakes his head, never taking his eyes off me. “I don’t want to be alone.”

I nod. We’re quiet for another few beats until I think of something to say. “What is this place?” I gesture to the garden surrounding us.

“You’ve never seen a garden before?”

My head tilts and my mouth presses into a thin line. He might be feeling low, but clearly not all remnants of the man who likes to push my buttons have disappeared. “Obviously, but this seems like more than just a garden.”

He frowns for a second. “My mom used to call it the secret garden when we were young.”

His gaze drifts to somewhere behind me, and he remains fixated on it. I turn around to see what he might be looking at, but I see nothing but a flower garden that looks like all the others.

“Did you spend a lot of time here?” Maybe it’s somewhere he likes to go when he wants to clear his head.

Obsidian shakes his head. “Not back then. More these days.”

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