Page 53 of Taking The Virgin

She fades off oncemore.

“His family what?” Iask.

But she’s already backing away from me, shaking her head again. “I only wanted to warn you about his mood, and you’re probably the only one he can tolerate right now. Nobody is as good with him as you are, so perhaps you can make his night a little brighter, just as you’ve done since you’ve gottenhere.”

“Nat—”

She’s already hurrying down the hall. I can see the cloth that she always keeps in her skirt pocket in case she finds smudges or dirt around the mansion, but something tells me that every time she tried to wipe away whatever is ailing Owen today, she was unsuccessful.

But she just told me that I have a chance to make things better.

Even as a spark of happiness lights me up because she noticed how things have changed between Owen and me, I turn around, inhale deeply, toss my purse into a chair, then begin to walk toward theden.

The farther I go, the more my pulse snaps inside me, as if trying to create more light and sparks. I can improve this mood he’sin.

As I approach his den, I see that he has only one lighton.

The weak illumination seems eerie.

Trying not to make a sound, I gulp, then walk into the contemporary room with all its pale, chrome-lined furniture, modern art, and the view of the patio. Owen is sitting behind a huge desk dressed in only a white button down, his tie-less collar open as if he was choking and needed air. His head is bent while he reads from his electronic tablet on the desk’s surface, and it seems as if he’s been running his fingers through his black hair because it’s so disheveled.

Even though my entrance is soundless, he looks up as if sensing me. When I see the devastation in his eyes, I know that he really is profoundly disturbed about something.

“Hi,” I say softly.

He looks at the sunny yellow Chanel dress I’m wearing, and it’s as if he can hardly stand any kind of brightness, because the next moment, he goes back to his brooding by looking down at his screen.

If he wants me to go, I will, but he hasn’t told me to scram yet. I’m not surrendering just because he’s sullen.

Once again, I take courage from Nat’s words. Maybe you can make his night a little brighter, just as you’ve done since you’ve gottenhere…

My heart warms as I walk closer, as if approaching a predator that’s bound to attack just when I’m least expecting it. “Mrs. Earl—Rachel—and I had a great time today with each other at breakfast. How was work with Dr. Earl?”

“We did what we needed to get done before he had to get ready for their flight.”

He speaks. That has to be a positivesign.

I feel a little nudge of triumph, so I continue. “I’m glad to hear that you two were productive. Did you do everything you needed to for your project?”

“Fuck the project.”

Even with his acid words I venture closer to his desk. “Are youokay?”

He chuffs, then gives a tight push to his tablet as if whatever is on the screen disgusts him. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“Something has gotten to you. I’ve never seen you like thisbefore.”

I gesture toward his disarranged hair and shirt. His jaw clenches at my persistence. But pain darkens his eyes, and I go the rest of the way to his desk, bracing my hands on it as I lean towardhim.

“Tell me, Owen,” I say softly but firmly. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you a therapist?” He bares his teeth. “Do you think that fucking me qualifies you to solve all my problems?”

Flinching, I straighten up then cross my arms over my stomach as if he’s just landed a blow there.

“Goddammit,” he mutters, shaking his head and digging his fingers through hishair.

He’s full of regret, and from the way he’s looking at me now, he wants to take what he said back. But I don’t think he knows howto.

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