Page 35 of The Keeper

“I wasn’t.”

“So she just walked up and volunteered information?”

“No.”

“For such an eloquent speaker you’re not giving me very many words right now,” I muttered in frustration.

His soft laugh charmed me. Again? Still? Did it matter at this point? I was sitting in his lap.

“I was there with Cade and Bennet. Cade was being, well, Cade, and kept referring to hot American redheads.” He looked at me. “Dawn figured out he was talking about you and just mentioned she knows you and your family.” He shrugged. “That’s all.”

I let out the breath I’d been holding. Dawn and Ray knew what happened and why we never came back as a family. My dad returned once. But only to give the Halstons our extra set of keys to keep an eye on the place.

“Does Cade have a little crush on me?” I teased.

A flash of jealousy passed through his eyes. “No. You’re too old for him. No offense.”

I laughed. I could see him going for the younger ladies. His brand of flirting probably landed better with someone under thirty.

“None taken.”

Xavier glanced around the grand foyer again. I followed his gaze, taking in what I already knew was there. Aside from the curved staircase and this hideous loveseat, there was a set of French doors leading to the sitting room. Beyond that, a hallway stretched to each wing of the house. The kitchen, dining room, and library were to the left, the main bedroom suite to the right. My bedroom, along with Charlotte’s, was upstairs as well as two spare bedrooms and a huge bonus room.

His fingers held my chin, gently turning me to face him. “Will you show me around?”

That’s quite literally the last thing I wanted to do. “Really?”

“Mmhmm. I want to see more.”

“It’s just a house.”

A hooded, sinful stare greeted me. “Nothing about you is just anything. Show me. Please.”

How could I say no? I stood up in a flurry of butterflies and tingling skin. He was a one night stand.

One. Night.

His hypnotic blue eyes remained on me as he stood up and started walking toward the French doors. I followed him because it’s him and I didn’t want to be rude.

It’s just a house.

Sheets covered most of the furniture in the sitting room. There wasn’t really much else to see in there. Although Xavier seemed to find interesting things to observe.

“When was this built?” he asked, running a hand over the wood panel molding.

“I have no idea. Maybe early 1900s?”

“And it belongs to your parents?”

“It does now. It was my grandparents’. On my dad’s side. They’re from England so this was their summer home.”

“Your dad is English, too?”

“Yep. He was born near Leeds and then they all moved closer to London when he was nine or ten. He came to New York to attend Columbia University and never left.”

“Another Ivy Leaguer, huh?” he grinned, studying the intricate wainscoting. “And you came here on summer holiday?”

“Every year.”

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