Page 33 of The Keeper

Scent carried the most memory triggers, and in this moment, with him so close, with his scent invading this space, all I could think about was last night and how he felt and sounded. I’d been around him for what, a total of twelve hours combined? Maybe more? My math could be off.

Didn’t matter. He smelled so good. I welcomed every image, every recollection of how he touched me, how he kissed me, how he made me feel.

“I’m just going to say it.”

“Say what?”

“There’s way too much gold in here.” He gestured around the foyer, before getting up to walk toward a loveseat against the opposite wall. “Like this. Why?”

His tone bordered on, no wait, it was aristocratic. He sat down, looking like royalty in faded jeans, blue t-shirt, and bomber jacket. Arms spread out over the back of the loveseat, ankle propped up over the knee.

“You should really think about hiring a new interior designer.”

“Well, that can be arranged since my grandmother was the one who picked all this out.”

“Ah, the granny defense. Likely story.”

“I had no idea I was sharing space with Joanna Gaines,” I grinned, making my way to the loveseat to join him.

How he managed to soften my mood delighted me. He was like a drug. Losing myself in him last night cemented my addiction. The way my entire body lit up for him even now, sitting here in this house, was a craving I’d never be able to manage.

“Yes, well, that’s what happens when your father is an architect and your step-mum an interior designer.” He waved a dismissive hand around. “This becomes part of your DNA even though you fought against it tooth and nail.”

“It’s not a bad trait to have.” I smiled. “Even if it makes you sound insufferably snobbish.”

“I’m not wrong though. About all the gold.”

“You’re not. If my grandmother was still around she’d correct you and say it’s amber, my dear. Not gold.”

He laughed. “Your family sounds lovely.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that without spilling all the reasons why we weren’t a lovely family anymore. I did, however, want to touch him. Not in that way. I just needed to feel him.

I reached over and stroked his hair, the softness transporting me back to the intense pleasure of being pinned against him. He took my hand and held it in his lap. A roguish smile touched his lips, making my heart race.

Some men were handsome in a safe way. Not Xavier. He was handsome in a way that was too profound, too mesmerizing.

“So, this is the annoying reason why you’re here.”

“Yep.”

“And you thought telling me this was a bad idea, why?”

“I didn’t say it was a bad idea to tell you. I didn’t say anything about it at all.”

“I’m aware.” He sounded droll, dry. “But it obviously upset you enough to pace around the side of a road.”

He glanced around with his astute eyes soaking in every detail. It fascinated me how he’d study even the most mundane element as though it mattered just as much as something extraordinary. I liked watching him. Really liked it.

Knock it off, V. One time is enough.

I shifted on the cushion, painfully aware of the fact I hadn’t set foot in this house since I was sixteen. Nothing had changed. The whole place was a huge time capsule, holding memories and artifacts from another life.

Xavier nudged me with his elbow. “Hello? Earth to Victoria. Did you not hear me?”

“Sorry, no,” I responded sheepishly. “What did you say?”

“Lost interest in me already. I get it.” He feigned a hurt expression, removing his jacket. I got an eyeful of the toned, tattooed arm sticking out of his t-shirt. This one in particular displayed a phrase on his forearm that wasn’t familiar to me.

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