She wanted to argue, to make him see she didn’t blame him. Not for last night, not for whatever his parents might have done. She wanted to tell him that nothing could break them apart.
But with the seat lowered, sleep overcame her quickly. She closed her eyes and dreamed.
*
THE ORNATE IRON gate rolled open before the car had come to a complete stop. Blake nodded at the discreet security camera as he drove through. Whoever was manning the desk these days had obviously been informed of his impending arrival and recognized him. Mr. Henderson would have retired years ago, living off a stipend supplied by his parents. They took care of their servants. At least Blake had always thought so, despite whatever other flaws they had.
Erin didn’t know this, but he intended to find out what happened to her mother all those years ago. His throat tightened imagining what could have happened to a young mother who needed a job, what an unscrupulous employer might do. Proposition her? Touch her?
Hit her?
It made him sick that it could happen to anyone, but even more so because Erin had been in just as vulnerable a position when she’d cleaned his home. The thought of anyone harming her made him see red.
He didn’t want to believe his father was capable of that.
He didn’t believe his father was capable of it, but he would make sure. For Erin’s sake.
He stopped the car at the end of the drive. His parents would have been informed of his arrival by the staff, but they wouldn’t open the door until he knocked.
Erin was asleep, her lashes long on her cheeks, her pink lips slightly parted. She looked soft in the waning afternoon light, her skin almost glowing white against the orange horizon. Beautiful and untouchable and somehow vulnerable.
He suddenly didn’t want to wake her up. Didn’t want to take her inside the house where he’d grown up. Didn’t want her exposed to whatever ugliness might have happened here. His father would never dare do anything to a guest, and Blake would never leave her side, but having her here felt wrong.
He hadn’t moved, hadn’t touched her, but she woke up anyway. Her eyes opened, deep brown and full of sleepy love for him. His heart thumped painfully against his chest.
“Hey,” he said, his voice hoarse.
She smiled, her expression still dreamy. “You’re thinking hard.”
That made him smile too. “It’s a character flaw.”
“It’s sweet.” Wakefulness entered her eyes, along with worry. “Are you afraid I’ll embarrass you in front of your parents?”
“What? Jesus, Erin. No.”
She sat up, using the lever to pull the chair upright. “I wouldn’t blame you. I understand I’m not what they would have wanted for you.”
He shook his head. He still couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I don’t give a fuck what they want for me. You’re what I want. You’re what I need.” The knot in his stomach grew tighter, and he couldn’t ignore it. “We don’t have to do this.”
Her eyebrows dipped. “Do what?”
“Visit them. We can just leave. I’ll tell them I wasn’t feeling well.” It wouldn’t even be a lie at this point. He had a bad fucking feeling.
“No way. We’re already here.” She glanced out the windshield, her pretty eyes widening as she looked up and up. Because yeah, there were fucking spires, like a goddamn fortress. And it had been as cold as one when he was a kid, too. She swallowed. “We have to go in.”
He knew that was true. He’d put off his visit long enough, knowing it was required, knowing that Erin would feel like he was ashamed if he didn’t bring her. The best he could do was get it over with quickly. As far as he was concerned, after this, he was done. His parents could make a cameo at their wedding so the press wouldn’t make a fuss, and that would be it.
He took her hand in his and kissed her palm. “Let’s get this over with.”
Chapter Three
ERIN’S FIRST THOUGHT when a tall, grim woman opened the door: the Ice Queen. Her hair was a blonde so pale it was almost white, with no roots of course. She seemed naturally beautiful, effortlessly elegant, the kind of woman Erin had always envied. And her smile could put frost on the windows.
“You must be Erin,” she said, taking her hand between long, cold fingers.
Erin forced a smile. “So glad to meet you, Mrs. Morris.”
“I’m sure.”
Blake’s father wasn’t much better. His hair a light grey, his eyes almost silver. At least in his case she had seen pictures online. The lauded ex-senator. Board member for countless charities. Successful investor. He was rumored to be a personal friend of the president, back in their fraternity days, and still had his ear. Yes, this family was steeped in money, and as they sat for lemonade in the sunroom, she felt the privilege thick and sharp.
“How was the drive?” his father inquired.