Page 190 of Positively Pricked

Chapter 64

Just inside the front door, I stopped and looked around, surprised to see that the place was fully furnished, complete with stunning artwork and an impressive array of Victorian antiques.

This might've been a lovely thing, if only I hadn't seen these exact same pieces weeks ago, sitting out on the front lawn.

I turned to Zane and asked, "Whose stuff is this?"

He looked toward the far corner of the front room, where a stack of boxes sat near a stunning brick and marble fireplace. He frowned. "Don't worry. I'll have them hauled away tomorrow."

I wasn't worried. I was disturbed. "I'm not talking about the boxes," I said. "I'm talking about the furniture. Whose is it?"

He moved deeper into the front room. With his back facing me, he said, "It goes with the house."

I followed after him. "This isn't Bob's furniture, is it?"

He turned and gave me a long, penetrating look. Something in his eyes made me feel transparent and silly, like I'd been caught skulking around where I didn't belong.

Still, I had to ask, "So, did you buy it off him or something?"

"No." Zane looked away. "It's not his."

Right.Just like this wasn't Bob's house. Funny how all that worked.

And yet, Ihadseen the furniture being loaded up. Hadn't I? But if so, why was it still here?

Zane said, "By the way, your car's in the garage."

That made me pause. "What car? You don't mean the company car?"

"It's your car now."

"But—"

"The fine print," he said with the ghost of a smile. "You should read it sometime."

Obviously, he was referring to the severance agreement. At the time, I'd been too aroused to read much of anything. Now, I was beyond stunned. "Are you serious?"

"I had someone bring it over," he said. "And just so you know, there's a parking pass on the windshield and an electronic card to open the gate. If you go out, you'll need them to get back in."

I recalled Zane texting someone from inside the limo, but I hadn't realized it involved me. The whole thing was surprisingly thoughtful, which only made me feel worse.

I reached up to rub my temples. "Thanks, but I actually feel kind of guilty."

"Don't."

But I did. And the mental whiplash was making me crazy. Zane was being incredibly generous and thoughtful. And yet, he'd been so heartless with everyone else.

Once again, I had to wonder,"Who is this guy?"

Desperate for clues, I said, "About the boxes, who do they belong to?"

He turned to give me another long look. "Does it matter?"

"Well, yeah…" I gave a nervous laugh. "Like if someone stops by to get them, I'd need to know what to do, right?"

From the look on his face, he thought the odds of this were pretty low. Still, in a tight voice, he said, "Hey, if their name's on it, they can have it."

I asked no more questions, even as Zane showed me the alarm system and told me in no uncertain terms that he expected me to use it. He also assured me that in spite of the boxes, the house had been cleaned weekly, including the sheets, so I should take my pick of the bedrooms and make myself at home.