Текст книги "Transcending Darkness"
Автор книги: Airicka Phoenix
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Текущая страница: 26 (всего у книги 36 страниц)
Seconds were counted with every thump of her heart waiting for him to ease the pain. Her own labored breaths was the only sound in the room. The deafening silence loomed as thick and vast as the darkness keeping him in its clutches. Around her in a dim halo, the desk lamp shone, leaving her painfully exposed while he kept his features concealed. There was some kind of twisted poetry in the scene, she mused dully. Him in the folds of dark and she desperately beckoning him into the light with her, because a part of her knew that if she could just get him closer, he’d see that she was more important than his revenge. She needed that. She needed him to pick her, to pick life and happiness. To pick a future together. All he had to do was move into the circle.
“There is and never was an us.” Said low and yet those words hissed the way a knife did against stone. She felt the cold slice all the way through her. “From the very beginning, I warned you there wouldn’t be. This was never a relationship and you assured me that you understood. That alone defaults the contract. As to a reason, I don’t require one. I opted to pay the penalties.”
“By … by giving me things I don’t want?” she threw back. “When have I ever wanted your money or … things? I don’t want any of it. I just want you.”
There was a subtle shift in his posture. It was quick so she wasn’t sure if she imagined it or if it had been a play of shadows.
“That was never a possibility.”
“Why?” She started forward, but came to an abrupt halt when he visibly jerked back. The gesture hurt worse than his rejection. “I don’t understand why. What did I do?”
Light kissed the side of his face he turned towards the window. Thick lines painted most of it, but she saw enough there to make her hope maybe…
“You broke me.” The light slipped away with just a shift of his head back in her direction. “You took away everything that I was, everything that made me strong. You made me forget what I was and why. Because of my carelessness, it took me two weeks to realize Molly was missing. That was my fault. I let myself be drawn into something I have always known I could never have, but it was because of you. You’re not good for me, Juliette. You’re the thing I need to keep away from if I am to keep fighting. You make me weak and weak men die.”
She didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t shouted and yet they slammed into her one syllable at a time like a metal fist. Pain reverberated through her in waves.
He wasn’t finished. “Now, I must ask you to leave and not return. I will not take kindly to you barging into my office again, Miss Romero. Our arrangement is over and I expect there to be nothing else.”
Her face lifted. “That’s it? You’re just going to let me go?” She continued when he said nothing. “Did you ever think that maybe all the things you think you lost were things you never needed? I’m not an expert on relationships, but I know that if someone feels right—”
“There is a reason I don’t pick women like you, virgins with no idea how to tell apart lust with love. We had sex. Lots of sex. It was great sex, I won’t lie. But a real woman knows the difference, knows not to confuse the two. I apologize if you thought I would ever love you, but it’s not something I am capable of.”
So curt. So professional. It rang of just how delusional she’d been. It really had only been a business venture for him. Now that business was over and she was no longer needed. He was done with her.
White hot agony tore into her. It sank razor blades talons deep into her chest and ripped out her heart. She half expected it to be on the floor alongside the torn pieces of her dignity. Yet the saddest part wasn’t that she couldn’t seem to be able to feel her legs in order to move. It was the fact that she still loved him. That she would probably always love him even after this. She had foolishly given herself, all of herself, to a man who only saw her as a scratch to be itched. How could none of what they’d shared mean nothing to him? How had he not felt it?
Carefully, with fingers she could barely feel, she undid the chain from around her neck. The pendent slid free of her coat and swung once, catching in the light before she gathered it gently in her palm. She stared at the tiny girl with her gem face and felt her insides crack open. A tear exploded across the pendant’s surface. Juliette wiped it away before setting the necklace on his desk.
“I don’t want it back.”
Maybe it was her imagination—the one that had betrayed and lied to her so far—but she could have sworn it was anguish she heard in his quiet murmur. She would have believed it if he hadn’t just finished telling her she’d meant nothing to him.
She stepped away from the desk, away from the lamplight and into the darkness with him. It blanketed her, hiding her tears and the breath she seemed unable to catch. Barbwires had wound themselves around her chest, tearing into flesh and suffocating her oxygen. A hand flattened against her stomach. The other went to her mouth in some pitiful attempt to stifle the sob ledged in her throat.
“Don’t … Juliette…”
She was already running to the door, her ears ringing too loudly for her to be sure whether or not he’d actually spoken. But if he had, he didn’t stop her. He didn’t come after her, not even when she hit the bottom of the stairs. He wasn’t coming, she realized with a fresh surge of pain. He was letting her go.
The sad, pathetic part of her actually waited, hoping that at any moment, he would appear, that he would charge down, scoop her up into his arms, and beg her not to go.
He didn’t.
Devastated, Juliette reached into her pocket and removed the phone and car keys. She was about to set them on the console table tucked against the corner of the foyer when movement out of the corner of her eye. Her head jerked up and her heart plummeted. Frank eyed her, silent and watchful. She wondered if maybe he’d expected Killian to reject her. Maybe he’d hoped that by doing so, she wouldn’t bother showing up at the manor anymore. Or maybe he had honestly hoped she would talk sense into Killian, which she hadn’t. She hadn’t even come close. But what did it matter? He hadn’t wanted her so why would he give up his need for retribution for her?
Humiliated and shattered, Juliette went to him. She put the items into his massive palm without looking into those unfathomable eyes.
“Please take care of him, Frank,” she whispered. “Don’t let anything happen to him, okay?”
Not waiting for a response, she turned and hurried to the door.
“Miss Romero, please allow me to get a car to drive you—”
She shook her head. “You’ve already done so much. Thank you for everything.”
Without a backwards glance, she threw open the door and threw herself into the night. The soft swirl of snow had turned into an almost blizzard. The wind howled and lashed against her with gleeful hatred. It ripped at her wet cheeks, turning her tears into shards of ice. Her lashes immediately hardened into spiky crystals. She ducked her head, but the frigid fingers swooped beneath her hem and raked at every inch of bare skin it could find. Little demons gnawed on the ends of her ears, making them burn. She tried to cover them with her hands, only to have her fingers instantly go numb. Forgoing that idea, she stuffed her balled fists into her pockets and ran.
There was a convenience store at the bottom of the hill. If she could get there, she’d call a cab, she told herself. If she didn’t fall off the edge of the cliff first or get run over or die of hypothermia or exposure. Her cheerful thoughts kept her company all the way to the bottom. Every so often, she kept glancing back, hoping to see Killian’s car hurrying after her as he had the first night. It didn’t and that only further twisted the knife in her chest. By the time she hit the winding streets leading through the upper class suburban neighborhood, she had finally accepted that Killian wasn’t coming for her. That he really had let her go. That it was over. In no way did her acknowledgement dull the pain, but it gave her new focus—to wait until she got home before crying.
Ahead, through the lashing swirl of snow, the lights of the 7-11 blinked and flickered. Just the sight of it nearly had her whimpering. She began to sprint, ignoring the numbness in her thighs where the cold had seeped through her jeans. Behind her, the roar of engine filled the otherwise slumbering night. She knew it was stupid, but she still stopped and glanced back.
The black SUV broke through the storm with the ease of a great shark. Lamplight sparked off the steel grill and glinted across the hood. Juliette’s heart picked up immediately in a premature dance of joy; for all she knew, Frank had sent someone to take her home out of pity.
But the vehicle rolled to a stop and a familiar face hopped out of the driver’s side. Head bent, he jogged around to join her on the curb.
“Mr. McClary has asked me to bring you back, miss,” he said, practically shouting to be heard.
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Please.”
It dawned on her to say no. To tell Mr. McClary to go take a flying leap off a high cliff. But that didn’t happen. She let herself get propelled to the back door. It was yanked open and she started to climb inside when a hand shot out in front of her and closed over her mouth. Her muffled scream was swallowed with the wind as her head was forced back against his shoulder. Something sharp pierced the side of her neck and darkness jumped up to swallow her.
The resounding bong resonated through the shallow waters of sleep. The unwelcome intrusion vibrated along her body, making her acutely aware of every ache and pain. She was also aware of the paste in her mouth and the foul stench of urine, sweat, fish and bleach making her gag reflexes go haywire. Her cheekbone throbbed as she shifted against her uncomfortable position.
“Juliette?” the low hiss seemed as distant and unfamiliar as the persistent echo of metal vibrations under water. “Juliette, are you awake?”
Woozy and harboring the mother of all headaches, Juliette pried open one eye. She blinked at the white film blurring the odd shapes stretching out before her. Beneath her palm, the floor radiated with its own arctic coldness. The crippling chill worked through all the places she lay in contact. One arm’s length away from her face, vertical bars of iron shot up to the ceiling. On the other side, a dark figure kept shifting.
“Killian?”
“Get up!” the voice hissed, still barely above a whisper, but it was the necessity in the command that urged Juliette to pull herself together.
Gradually, inch by horrifying inch, the room swayed into view and it was a room she had never seen before. The entire structure was sheets of steel bolted together and stamped into concrete. Against one wall were three cages separated by thick bars and big enough to fit a fully grown gorilla. On the other side of the room was a series of wooden stairs that led up to nothing, but a wall. There was nothing else. No beds, not even a blanket. But there was a bucket in one corner of her cage.
“Hey!”
Terrified, Juliette faced her companion and her jaw dropped. “Maraveet?”
The woman looked nothing like Juliette remembered. Her auburn mane was a tangled, matted mess. Her face was drawn, streaked with makeup and pale. She wore jeans and a black coat, but her clothes were wrinkled. She sat on the floor of her cage, her green eyes enormous peering at Juliette through the bars.
“Are you hurt?”
The question took Juliette a moment to answer while she examined her own body. There was a crick in her neck from sleeping on cold cement and her cheek was throbbing, but…
“No, I think I’m okay.” She touched a hand to her brow. “Where are we?”
Maraveet shook her head. “I don’t know. This is where I woke up too.”
Juliette did another survey of their surroundings, noting that there were no windows or doors.
“I don’t understand.” She licked her lips. “What’s going on?”
“Someone’s trying to get Killian’s attention,” the other woman stated. “I wasn’t sure at first, I have my own share of people who want me … out of the way, but I’m positive now that you’re here.”
“Me?” The room kept spinning. She wasn’t sure if that was the after effect of the drugs or the situation, but Juliette squeezed her eyes shut tight and willed it to stop. “What do I have to do with—?”
“They killed Molly,” Maraveet interrupted. “I don’t know that for sure, but I’d bet my last dollar on it. Now I’m here and you’re here, the last two people Killian cares about.”
“They? Who’s they?” Juliette demanded, eyes opening and focusing on the other woman.
Maraveet shook her head. Her green eyes shot to the stairs then back.
“I haven’t been let out of this cage since I was brought in. I’ve seen four men. They take turns coming in twice a day with food and once to get the bucket. They don’t speak and they’re careful not to set a routine so I have no idea how long I’ve been here.”
Mind reasonably clearer, Juliette paused to think. “How long have I been here?”
“A few hours at the most.”
Juliette swallowed. “We went to see Molly three days ago.”
“Three days,” Maraveet muttered. “It felt longer.”
“Well, it’s okay, because Killian will know you’re missing and he’ll—”
Maraveet shook her head. “I left when you guys did. He has no idea where I am and he won’t look.”
Juliette blinked. “You … you left him … again?”
Green eyes narrowed. “This is why! We’re dangerous together. I thought I would have time to leave the country before whoever killed Molly came for me.”
“So you ran.”
Rather than answer, Maraveet heaved herself into the corner between the bars they shared and the wall. Her legs rolled out in front of her and she leaned her head back.
“I don’t expect you to understand. You’ve been protected and sheltered your entire life. How would you know the fears of dying?”
Juliette opened her mouth to remind the woman of Arlo, but the time for arguing about useless things would have to wait until later. They had a bigger problem.
“Where are we?” she asked instead.
“I think a boat. I can feel the room moving sometimes when it’s windy.”
Gingerly, Juliette shuffled to her feet and moved to the bar door and shook it once, just to see if maybe it would open. It didn’t. She tipped her head back and peered at the ceiling with its inbuilt lights and smooth, metal surfacing.
“How did they get us in here? Where’s the door?”
Maraveet pointed with one finger to the stairs. “It’s a concealed hatch. No doubt used to smuggle people across international waters without getting caught.”
Juliette snapped her neck around. “Smuggle people? They’re human traffickers?”
Maraveet shrugged. “Possibly. Why else would you build a hidden room with cages under your boat?”
A cold wave of terror plowed into her, sending her crashing into the bars. She hit the floor on both knees as icy claws skated along every nerve ending in her body, turning them numb. Balls of air lodged in her chest, withholding every breath until she was sure she’d pass out.
“Hey.” Maraveet scurried on all fours to the other side of her cage so she knelt just on Juliette’s left side. “Slow breaths. We’re going to get out of here.”
The absolute confidence in the woman’s voice momentarily made her forget the panic threatening to consume her.
“How do you—”
“Because Killian will know you’re missing.”
Juliette shook her head. “No, he won’t. He told me never to come back. He told me I meant nothing to him.” The memories doubled the anxiety already gnawing through her. Tears spilled in a steady flow to stain the front of her coat. “He won’t look for us.”
“He will,” Maraveet insisted in that same confidence. “Trust me. I know my brother. He won’t let you disappear, no matter what he might have said. Hey.” She reached through the bars and grabbed Juliette’s hand. “He’s coming. I know he is.”
Juliette broke down. She normally wasn’t the sort to shatter under pressure, but between losing Killian and being kidnapped, her emotions refused to hold together anymore. They dissolved in a fit of sobs she hadn’t ever allowed herself. Maraveet said nothing. She didn’t tell her to be quiet or stop being a baby. She gripped Juliette’s hand and waited.
“Done?” she asked, not unkindly once Juliette had run out of tears.
Juliette nodded, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her coat. “I’m sorry.”
Maraveet shook her head. “It’s fine, but that is the only cry you’re going to get, understand? After this moment, you’re going to bottle it all up, all your feelings and never allow them to see you break. You’re going to become the perfect little mute doll, got it?”
Sniffling, Juliette frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Intensity shone in the other woman’s eyes, a green fire that washed through the chill in the room. “They will try to make us talk, to tell them whatever they want to know, but the minute we do, we will no longer be needed, do you understand? Give them nothing. No matter what they do to you or to me. The longer we hold on, the more time Killian has to find us.”
Cold bile tightened around Juliette’s throat. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”
Maraveet grinned. “A few times.” Her smile faded. “Just be strong and remember it won’t be forever.”
Juliette opened her mouth to ask how she knew that when a soft click filled the room. It was followed by the sound of decompressing air. The square patch of wall disconnected from the rest just above the stairs and a door swung into view. A man, rail thin and dressed in jeans and a leather coat, ambled down the stairs, making sure to hit every step with a vibrating thump. He reached the bottom and stopped at the sight of Juliette.
“You’re awake! Good.” He ambled closer. “The boss was wondering when you’d be up.”
He reached for a set of keys hooked to his belt loop. He flipped through several before finding the right one. The rest jingled together loudly as he unlocked her door.
Juliette scrambled back, moving closer towards Maraveet. The other woman’s fingers tightened around hers, but the man marched in without missing a beat and grabbed Juliette’s free arm. He yanked her up and away.
The last thing Juliette saw before she was dragged up the stairs was Maraveet’s intense green eyes watching her through the bars, willing her to be strong.
Juliette had always considered herself reasonably strong. She had faced things most people would never dream of and she had survived. But everything in that moment felt lost and hopeless and shrouded with an impossibility she wasn’t equipped to handle. Not knowing what lay beyond the hidden door didn’t help. Not knowing what or who … no, she knew who. She remembered his face, his familiar, safe face. She had trusted him. Killian had trusted him. He’d betrayed them both. He’d brought her to that place and left her in a cage. Now, he was going to torture and possibly kill her.
The door opened to a spacious cabin straight out of the very concept of luxury. Maraveet hadn’t been wrong, they were in a boat, but not a freighter or fishing boat as Juliette has expected. It was a yacht, a grand, beautiful length of space draped in rich satin. Crystal drops glittered from the ceiling, showering the mahogany furniture with their golden light. The dark wood complimented the peacock blue throws adorning leather sofas. An iron stairway twisted up from the center of the room and opened to the second floor above. Outside, through windows draped in gossamer drapes, the heavens were as navy as the carpets beneath their feet and dotted by a swirl of snow that obscured any landmarks that might have helped pinpoint their location.
Despite the early hour, the cabin was occupied by a small handful of men. None of which she recognized as she was led closer.
“Juliette.” The voice could have been cut from silk. “You cannot possibly imagine how long I have been waiting for the moment when we would finally meet.”
Chapter 23
Vile, unstoppable hated scuttled along Killian’s skin, reminding him of a hundred spider legs creeping beneath his clothes. The sensation had his stomach churning, his skin crawling and his temper rearing its head. In the black slate of his window, his reflection glowered at him. Accusation and loathing oozed through the pane. It was a look of disgust and it was warranted. The things he’d said to Juliette would haunt him for the rest of his life. It would forever be the new reason he no longer slept. The excruciating look of heartbreak twisting her beautiful face had been all he could take. Had she stayed for even a second longer, it would have been the end of him. It would have sent him to her, the need to protect her be damned.
In his trouser pocket, the jagged corners of the pendent cut into his palm. The metal and gem felt ridiculously hot in his freezing clutches. Every so often, he’d run the pad of his thumb over the face of the girl and think of Juliette’s when he’d given it to her. The glow of elation in her eyes. The smile.
I had to do it, the pitiful voice insisted. She would have been next.
You don’t know that! The second voice screamed. I could have kept her safe.
It was the same war, the same argument and neither side was any closer to winning. But Killian agreed with the first. He had no guarantee he could protect her. He couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t lose her the way he’d lost Molly, Molly who he barely saw. If they went after her because of him, what was stopping them from going after Juliette? What was stopping them from taking her, hurting her … breaking her?
A new coldness gnawed at the pit of his stomach, the sort of sensation one got when drinking ice water on an empty stomach. It made the snakes there writhe in fury at being disturbed.
Losing her forever was a price he was willing to pay if it meant she would live. He would live with the agony so long as he knew she was somewhere out there, possibly happy.
A soft shuffle alerted him to the second figure hovering in the open doorway of his dark office. The harsh, yellow light from the hallway panted his enormous silhouette a murky black, but Killian would recognize Frank anywhere.
“You let her in,” Killian said quietly. “Those gates don’t open without your approval, nor does anyone, not even me, know the exact moment the staff change happens, except you. You disobeyed my orders.”
Frank never moved. “I did, sir.”
“Don’t ever do it again.”
Frank inclined his head. “Yes sir, but there is something you might want to know about Miss Romero when she left the manor—”
“I don’t.” He turned away from the window. “She is no longer my concern. You will never bring her up again, do you understand?”
“Sir, if I might—”
The man’s insistence only fueled Killian’s impatience. “I said no, Frank!”
The reluctance was unmistakable, even if his face was concealed in shadows. Killian could see it in the tightening of the man’s frame. But he relented grudgingly.
“Yes sir.”
Killian returned to the window, to the darkness and the company of his own miserable reflection.
“The Mishimoto Company is still waiting for your response to their offer to buy out the … sir?”
Killian blinked and raised his head. Frank was watching him from the other side of his desk, a large stack of papers gripped in both meaty hands.
“Yes, all right.” Killian straightened in his seat. “Just set it down and I’ll go over them when I’m done.”
Frank wisely said nothing as the folder was set gingerly on top of a teetering stack of other files and paperwork Killian should have finished days ago. The entire surface of his desk had become one wrong sneeze away from a paper avalanche. The OCD claustrophobic in him shrieked at the sight of his once immaculate work space. But the rest of him had no energy to give a shit.
“Sir, perhaps you would like to head out for a couple of hours?” Frank suggested. “We could head into Ice and—”
Killian shook his head. “I have too much to do here.”
But he sat and studied the same contract he’d been staring at for the better part of four hours. He still had no idea what it was about or what he was supposed to do. His pen lay across the first page, waiting to be utilized.
“Sir, if I may, it’s been three days since…” He quickly bit back what he’d been about to say when Killian’s gaze shot up to him warningly. “Since you’ve been out of this house and a few hours in fresh air…” He trailed off. His hand going to his earpiece.
Killian watched him, studying the hard lines pulling dark eyebrows together into a deep frown.
Frank exhaled. “Sir, there is a situation in the courtyard that requires your immediate attention.”
Killian frowned. “This isn’t a ploy to get me out of this office, is it?”
Frank shook his head. “No sir.”
His ass muscles grumbled in protest as Killian rose from his chair. Stiff leg muscles creaked and tingled with every stride he took following the giant out the door. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually left his chair, except to use the washroom and take the occasional shower. A time or two, he’d even napped in the damn thing. A few more days of that and he could probably make a mold of his ass off the leather. But it wasn’t as though he had anywhere really to go and sleep was out of the question anyway. He might not be getting any work done either, but at least he was pretending. It was better than glancing at the phone and wondering if Juliette would pick up if he called. A time or two, he’d even dialed the number before coming to his senses. The whole matter was humiliating. He was pining like a teenage girl after losing her first crush. And she kind of was. He’d found women attractive in the past, but he’d never burned so completely for them. He hadn’t lost his head and his heart. So, maybe that did make her his first crush. Who knew? The whole thing was ridiculous. He was too damn old and too damn tired to be lovesick.
Halfway to the stairs, he heard it, the deafening shriek of a female voice. There were other voices, louder, but the words were unintelligible.
“No!” Frank snapped unexpectedly. “Don’t touch her. That is an order!”
Juliette!
It had to be. Who else would be on his front step making all that ruckus?
It was more than simply a ruckus, he realized when he reached the top of the stairs and heard the crash of glass shattering. It was followed quickly by a thump against the side of the house. The female voice screamed again and he tore down the steps. He hit the bottom just as a brick smashed through the bay windows of the formal sitting room. Glass exploded, glittering like diamonds in the afternoon sunlight before scattering across his mother’s antique rug. The brick itself slammed into the glass coffee table and more glass exploded.
“What in God’s name…”
Killian charged to the open front door. He reached the threshold and narrowly got a chunk of rock straight in the face. Pure reflexes had him ducking just in the nick of time. The rock sailed over his head and cracked across the foyer floor and rolled beneath the stairs.
“Where is he?” the voice shrieked. “I want to see him now or I swear to God I will break every bloody window in the place!”
For a moment, for just a split second, he almost thought it was Juliette. Long, wavy blonde hair rippled around a delicate face and small shoulders. Dominating brown eyes sparked with a fury unlike any other. But it wasn’t her.
“Viola?”
The girl stood on the edge of his mother’s fountain, a stick in one hand a broken brick in the other. His men were fanned out around her, edging closer, but making no effort to grab her. There was a small arsenal of rocks, bricks and bottles piled at her feet. There was more in the backpack lying open at the bottom of the fountain. She looked as fierce and dangerous as any of the warriors his mom used to tell him about. Her golden eyes found his and flashed.
“Where is she, you son of a bitch?” She slashed her stick in his direction. “Where’s Juliette?”
The brick soared out of her grasp with deadly accuracy. It nailed him in the shoulder before any of his men could even think to block it. The pain exploded across his chest and splintered down his arm in ribbons of fire. Something hot and wet blossomed beneath his dress shirt and soaked through the fabric in a red bloom. Killian would have cursed if he could think past her words.
“What?” he demanded.
“Don’t bullshit me, you Irish bastard!” She swooped down and snatched up a green bottle. “I know you’ve got her. She told me she was on her way to see you and then nothing for three fucking days. What have you done with her? Where is she? Where’s my sister?” The last part was said in a scream that echoed through the courtyard.
Something jackknifed in his chest with such brutal force he nearly went down with it. The pain in his shoulder was immediately replaced by a slow burn of heat and cold that crashed through him in rapid succession. He spun on his heels to where Frank stood behind him.
“Find her.” His voice nearly broke. “Find her now!”
He whirled to the girl who had lost all the color in her face. The bottle and stick hung limply at her sides, the fire gone from her. Her brown eyes were enormous and shining with all the fear curdling deep inside him.
“You … you don’t have her?”
Closing the distance between them in three wide strides, Killian grabbed Vi by the wrist and dragged her off the fountain. She went willingly and let herself be hauled into the manor. He took her to the sitting room she hadn’t destroyed and shoved her into a chair.
“Tell me what happened,” he snarled at her. “Where’s Juliette?”
“I … I don’t know!” she choked out. The stick and bottle slipped out of her hands and struck the carpet beneath her feet. “She called me three days ago and said she was on her way to see you. She sounded weird, but I didn’t think anything of it. But she never came home that night or the next. I went to her work, both of them and no one has seen her. So, I came here and your douchebag doorman said he had no idea who I was talking about. That he’d never even heard of Juliette. I thought…” She lowered her eyes, her cheeks a guilty pink.
