Page 22 of Twisted Knight

“Ah,” He nodded. “Okay then.” He picked up his potted plant again and resumed his walk to the shaded area.

I followed him with my eyes, watching how his back muscles moved under his tight white dress shirt.

“Okay then?” I repeated. That had been such an anticlimactic answer.

He put the plant on the floor and grabbed another one before throwing me a quick look. “What?”

“No, it’s just—” I shook my head. “I don’t know. It’s just not what I expected.”

“I swear, you girls really need to stop watching films.” He grumbled before pointing to the pot I’d put back on the table. “More working, less talking. You wanted to help; let's move.”

I flushed at the embarrassment at being reprimanded like a teenager, but I sucked it up and finished the task in silence. It had been a sort of comfortable silence as if there was a truce between us. The atmosphere, while not peaceful, was obviously not as tense.

“What did you expect?” he asked me thirty minutes later when we exited the greenhouse after completing all the detailed tasks Cassie had left in a little notebook.

“What do you mean?” I asked, walking beside him. If I remembered correctly, it was the first time he actually instigated conversation between us.

“You said you didn't expect my reaction; what did you expect?” He stopped and turned toward me briskly, making me recoil.

HIs frown deepened at his reaction. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“No. I know, it’s just—” I stopped and looked down, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Some things were better kept in the secret box of my head. “I just thought you would be more annoyed at the truth.”

He shook his head, resuming his walking. “It is what it is. Loyalty is crucial in this family but I'm sure you know that.”

“I do.”

“Okay then.”

Before I thought better of it, I grabbed his arm just as he reached for the back door. I felt his biceps tense under my fingers. This man was seriously buffed.

He froze and looked at my hand on his arm as if it was hurting him.

“There’s more though, isn’t there?”

“You’re beautiful.”

I let go of his arm. Of all the things I expected, this was not it.

I’d heard that a lot, especially since I’d reached puberty, but somehow coming from him, it was different. It pleased me that he thought I was beautiful, but at the same time it sounded much more like a flaw than anything else, coming from his mouth.

“Okay. Should I apologize for that? It’s just genetics.”

He sighed. “No.” He opened the door and jerked his head in as a silent invitation to follow him.

I walked behind him and stayed by the back door, looking at him as he grabbed the bottle of scotch from the top shelf in the kitchen.

“Want one?”

I shook my head. “No, thank you. I don't drink.”Anymore.

“Okay, I’ll have yours,” he announced, serving himself an impressively large shot.

“So your problem with me is that I’m beautiful?” I said, showing him I was not ready to let that one go, and also I enjoyed saying that. I enjoyed the fact that he found me beautiful even if truth be told it had sometimes been more a hindrance in life than anything else.

He threw me an annoyed glare that almost made me smile.

“The problem is not that you’re beautiful. The problem is that you’re supposed to be this stunning successful psychologist with this amazing life in Canada, and after Cassie phoned you about the pregnancy being a little more difficult than she’d expected, you just up and left.” He took a sip of his drink, keeping his eyes on me as if he was looking for any tell, and he probably was. Too bad he was playing with an expert. “You never talk about your life there, never mention friends, boyfriends, anything… I’m sorry to say that sounds suspicious.”

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