Fall Into You (Morally Gray, #2)(60)

He winks at me. “Hope you’re hungry.” He exits the car and comes around to my side, opening the door and waiting as I unbuckle my seatbelt.

Then he takes my hand and leads me inside his home.





Shay





The place is insane.

The foyer has triple-vaulted ceilings, walls of windows that showcase incredible canyon and city views, and crown-like Baccarat chandeliers. A pair of curved limestone staircases rise elegantly to the second floor. The white marble floor gleams.

Holding my hand, Cole leads me through the entrance into the main living area, which is even more grand. Acres of dark hardwood floors are offset by white furniture and walls hung with oil paintings. A fantastical lounge has a ceiling covered in life-like faux flowers and a chandelier resembling an explosion of butterflies. There’s a bar room, a library, a formal dining room, a screening room, and a wine cellar, and that’s just the first floor.

As I stand in wide-eyed wonder gazing through the windows at the huge backyard pool surrounded by a lounge area with harlequin pattern pavers inset with squares of grass, Cole squeezes my hand.

“What do you think?”

“It’s like a fairytale castle. Who else lives here with you?”

“Nobody.”

I turn and look at him. In the warm ambient lighting, his features are softer. Maybe it’s my imagination, but his demeanor is softer too, as if by merely walking through the front door of his home, he shed a few of his hard layers.

“You live here alone? This place must be like ten thousand square feet.”

“Fifteen. On six acres.” He turns and gazes out the windows into the night. “I wish it were twenty, but I can’t find any parcels that big in the city. There’s a place in Montecito that’s two hundred and thirty acres that I’d love to buy, but the owner won’t sell.”

I furrow my brow in confusion. “Why do you want that much space?”

“Same reason wild animals need a lot of space.”

“To roam?”

“So they don’t have to bump into each other.”

“Don’t you get lonely?”

He answers after a contemplative moment, his voice soft. “All the time.”

I remember what Simone said the day I started work and slipped and called him Mr. Dark and Stormy. She said everyone at the office called him the Grinch, but thing about the Grinch was that his heart wasn’t too small. He was just unbearably lonely.

This man is a mystery. He longs for connection, but purposely keeps himself separate from the only place he can get it. Other people.

“Hey. Handsome.”

He glances at me.

“Thank you for bringing me here. It means a lot to me.”

Blue eyes shining, he reaches out and caresses my cheek. He murmurs, “Beautiful Shayna. Thank you for coming. I love having you here.”

Emotion swells in my chest, expanding until it’s hard to breathe. I want to look away from him to hide, but I can’t. The force of his gaze is too powerful.

I don’t know what it is about him, but I’m drawn to him in a way I’ve never been drawn to anyone else. To his mysteries and his moods, his longing and his loneliness, all the parts he keeps hidden from everyone for reasons yet unknown.

I know he’s got secrets. I know he’s not perfect. But I’ve never known anyone I wanted to understand more.

“I could get addicted to the way you’re looking at me right now,” he says, his voice throaty.

“If I ask you something, will you answer honestly?”

“I’ll always be honest with you.”

“When you’re not sidestepping, you mean.”

That earns me a smile. “What’s the question?”

“Can I trust you not to break my heart?”

A look of pain crosses his features. He closes his eyes and exhales a quiet breath. When he opens his eyes again, they’re filled with anguish.

“Why do you think I keep saying we can’t have a relationship?”

That shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. I almost wish he’d lied to me. But I guess that’s what I get for asking the question.

I look away, out into the night. “Okay,” I whisper around the lump in my throat. “Fair enough.”

“Shay—”

“No, let’s not ruin this. We have tonight. And we have Shanghai lobster. And if you’re very, very good, I’ll let you convince me that we should go skinny dipping in that enormous pool.”

He gathers me into his arms and hugs me, pressing his face against my neck. We stand like that for a while, holding each other and breathing, until I feel tears well at the corners of my eyes and pull away.

He’s already breaking my heart, and we haven’t even eaten dinner yet.

Taking my hand, he leads me through a set of open French doors onto the terrace. The air is warm and still, perfumed by the cascading honeysuckle vines climbing the balustrade. We sit at a small round table draped in white linen and set with fine china and crystal. White tapers in silver holders add a romantic glow to the setting.

Overwhelmed, I take in the view.

“You’re quiet,” observes Cole, spreading a linen napkin over his lap.

“I’m processing.”