Oh God.
I’m dying here. He’s being so goddamn sweet. It’s confusing me. He’s confusing me.
Why did you have to lie to me? I want to yell at him.
Of course I don’t say that.
He wants me to stay the night, and that means I’ll be here when he’s sleeping.
It was a rare chance that I got to be in Kas’s office without him here today. I don’t know when I’ll get that chance again.
But, if I’m here and he’s fast asleep…that would give a girl plenty of time to look around, for say, maybe a key that’d open a door hidden behind a bookcase.
God, when did I get so devious?
Probably around the time I found myself serving eighteen months for a crime I hadn’t committed.
Smiling up at him, I bite my lip. “Well, when you put it like that, how can a girl refuse?”
He smiles big, and it lights up his eyes. “So, you’ll stay the night?”
He looks so happy and boyish in this moment. I feel a stab of guilt.
Stop. I have nothing to feel guilty about. He did this. Not me.
If he’d been truthful with me from the start, then we wouldn’t be where we are right now. I wouldn’t be preparing to sneak around my man’s house in the dead of night, looking for a secret key to unlock a secret door.
Reaching up on my tiptoes, I press my lips to his, hiding my own deceit, and I whisper, “Yes.”
Thirty-Six
I glance at Kas sleeping beside me.
My heart is racing. My mouth is dry. My breaths are quick.
I’m really going to do this. I’m really going to climb out of his bed and sneak downstairs to find out what’s really behind that door.
My palms are sweating.
I press them to the bed, trying to dry them on the bedsheet.
Then, he moves, and I nearly shit my pants.
Turning in his sleep, he turns to his side, facing away from me.
Holy fuck!
Holy fucking fuck.
I press my trembling hand to my chest, applying pressure, trying to ease the race in my heart. It’s beating so hard and loud that I’m afraid it will actually wake him.
I can’t wake him now. Not when I’ve just spent the last few minutes easing myself out of his arms.
It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep after we finished making out.
Yes, we made out.
He made me dinner. He actually cooked for me. A guy has never done that before. He lit candles and everything. It was really romantic. Then, we curled up on the sofa with our glasses of wine and watched TV together. Well, the TV-watching didn’t last very long before we started making out like teenagers.
Kas suggested we go to bed. I agreed.
And we carried on with our make-out session in here. Obviously, we didn’t have sex because I’m supposed to be on my period. But, God, I wanted to.
I wanted him so badly. I still do.
After we finished making out, he wrapped me up in his arms and held me like he never wanted to let me go.
And I didn’t want him to.
But I have to.
I have to know the truth.
Taking a quiet, shallow breath, I slide out of bed, my bare feet touching the thick carpet.
I cast a nervous glance back at Kas. Holding my breath, I watch the silhouette of his strong back. His breaths are deep and even. He’s fast asleep.
And I’m doing this.
Eyes on the half-open door, I tiptoe out of his bedroom.
I descend the stairs on silent feet. The light on the outside porch is casting a small glow in the large hallway.
Feeling a chill, I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself. I only have on one of Kas’s T-shirts and my undies. I feel like I should be wearing a black cat suit or something equally badass. Not an old band T-shirt of Kas’s that carries his scent. And it’s really distracting because I love the way he smells. It brings warmth and hot memories to mind, and that makes me feel like a total bitch for sneaking around his house like this.
Then, I remind myself that I wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t for him and his lying ways. I would have been lying upstairs in his arms, probably having sex right now, if he’d chosen honesty.
But he didn’t, and here we are.
Well, here I am.
I tiptoe across the floor and into his office.
I quietly close the door behind me, and then I make my way across the room and turn on his desk lamp.
I don’t waste any time. I start searching through his desk drawers, looking for a key.
I find one key, but it’s small and looks like it’s for a padlock or something. But, aside from that, there’s no key that would fit that door.
Hands on hips, I survey the room.
If I were Kas, where would I keep a key for a secret door?
I’d keep it with me.
I do a quick mental run-through of what he was wearing when we went upstairs. Jeans and a shirt, and he put those in the laundry basket, so there definitely isn’t a key there.
My eyes snag on his jacket, which is hanging on the back of the door. He wore that earlier when we went to the vet’s to get the medication for the horse.
I walk over to the jacket. I slip my hands in both pockets. My hand curls around a set of keys in the right pocket.
I pull them out. His car keys. I stare down at them in my hand. There’s his car key, a fob—which is for the garage, I think—a Range Rover key ring…and another key.
A Yale key.
Holy shit.
Blood starts to pump through my veins.
Oh my God. This is the key. I bet this is the key!
I rush over to the bookcase, keys in hand.
I open up the stack, revealing the door. I single out the Yale key, and with my hand shaking, I slot the key in the door. I turn and…