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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get—only with what you are expecting to give—which is everything.”

~ Katharine Hepburn

Em

Andrew and Saros needed to talk to Penelope and Dafni and while he didn’t kick me out, I chose to leave. This was a private moment, and it didn’t feel like it was my place to be there.

The house was bustling with people, and Martha was darting from room to room. I approached and asked if I could help in any way.

“You’re such a dear, but you shouldn’t be on your ankle so much.” She eyed my hand. “And that needs to heal properly.”

“Well, were you able to sort sleeping arrangements?”

“Mostly, but Penelope had to go to the study. I think we’re short one or two bedrooms, but I’m working it out.”

“You can give my room to someone. I rather like the conservatory, and the couch in there is so comfortable.”

She smiled and squeezed my arm. “I’m not sure Mr. Tancredi would like that very much.”

“Oh, because it’s his favorite room?”

She chuckled. “No, because you’re his favorite person, and he’d like you to have a bed.”

“Me?” My voice squeaked. “No, I’m not, but that’s nice of you to say. I’m really fine giving up my room, and that’s a choice I’m making.”

“Noted, dear. Why don’t you get some food? I know it’s ridiculously early, but when the body and mind are awake, they need energy.”

I was a little hungry, so I went into the dining room and fixed myself a small plate.

Kids were running around, the excitement of being up long after they should totally be asleep giving them boosts of energy. I was sure that in a couple of hours, they’d all be zonked out somewhere.

A few people came up and said hi, asked if I knew what was going on. While I did, it wasn’t my right to say anything, so I simply told them I was sure Saros would explain things soon enough.

I decided to go upstairs, and even though Martha told me I shouldn’t get out of this room, I grabbed a large duffel bag I saw at the bottom of the closet and started packing things up.

A knock on the door startled me and without thinking, I yelled, “Come in.”

Saros entered and opened his mouth only to frown. “Are you leaving?”

“Leaving, what?” Then I realized he had no idea what Martha and had I talked about. “No, not leaving, just relocating.”

“To where, and why?” He placed his hand on top of the bag as if in some sort of peaceful protest.

“Martha said they were short a room or two. While your house is huge, you have more people who work for you than you have bedrooms. I told her I loved the conservatory and wouldn’t mind moving there.”

“She’s putting you in there?”

“Oh, no, she isn’t. She actually argued with me over it, so I decided I was just going to go there. That will free up a room.”

“Absolutely not.” He pulled the bag away from me.

“Because you don’t want me in there?”

“You know I have no issues with you being in the conservatory, but there’s limited privacy.”

I waved him off and tried to yank the bag to me. “I don’t need privacy.”

“Everyone does, but I think I have a solution to the lack of space.”

“Oh?”

“Paulo will likely stay downstairs, and there are three beds there. I have my guys on rotation, anyway. But to free up this bedroom, I have an idea.”

I raised my brows. “Let’s hear it.”

“You can stay with me in mine.”

I blinked…then blinked some more because there was no way I wasn’t dreaming. “Stay with you, in your bedroom, in your bed, with you. Like the two of us together, beside one another?”

He chuckled. “Yes, Em, and regardless of what you’ve heard, I can be a gentleman.”

“Oh, my God, I’m sure you are.” I could feel sweat forming on my back. Was I breathing loudly? I was sure my cheeks were as red as tomatoes.

“I happen to have a large couch in my bedroom as well. I’m happy to sleep on it.”

“What?” There I went, squeaking again. “No way, I’m not kicking you out of your bed.”

Saros inched closer. “Em, I very much would love it if you’d share my room with me, and if you’re okay with it, my bed.”

His bed…where people touch each other and…“Sleep.”

He laughed. “I feel like you had a conversation in your head but only included me at the end of it.”

“I might have.”

“Think about it. Otherwise, you stay here, and I will figure it out.”

“No!” I absolutely shouted at him. “Sorry, I mean yes. As in, no, don’t make other arrangements. Yes I will share your bed with you…to sleep and not snore. I don’t—at least I think I don’t.”

“I don’t care if you snore.”

“You say that now.”

He cupped my cheek in his hand. “You could be a violent sleepwalker, and I’d still think you were amazing.”

A smile tugged at my lips. “You’re a sweet talker, or deranged.”

“A little of both.” And then we were kissing and all my anxiety washed away.

Saros helped me clear out the bedroom, promising that if I wanted to return to it once this was all over, I could. Truth was, I already knew I wouldn’t. There was a pull my heart had to Saros’s, and it was addicting.

“I’ll let Martha know the room is cleared, so she can get the sheets changed and use it.”

I grabbed Saros’s arm gently. “Wait.”

“Are you all right?” His concern for me was so foreign and whenever he showed it, every inch of my body buzzed.

“I should be asking you that.”

He appeared perplexed for a beat before realization dawned on him. “Because of my parents.”

“Well, yeah. I’m so sorry, Saros.”

“Why are you sorry, Em? I meant it when I said to you that you finally gave us all something.” He took my hand in his and pressed a kiss to my palm. “With so much power at my fingertips, not knowing who killed them ate at me, my whole family. We’ve grieved their loss with anger simmering beneath it all. We didn’t know who to blame, who to make pay. You gave us that. It’s everything.”

“I don’t know what to say to that.” I squeezed Saros’s hand. “If I can do anything to help.”

“You already do, Em. Believe me.”

We carried my stuff to his room, and I took in the whole place. It was slightly larger than mine, but I believed that had to do with the veranda.

“You can use any space you want.” He pointed to a closet. “I don’t use that one, so feel free.”

I unpacked everything while Saros informed Martha that the room was clear to use. By the time he returned, I was done.

“Why didn’t you just text her?”

Saros sat on the big couch he told me about. “She rarely looks at the thing; it was easier to just go find her and tell her. Plus, I wanted to check on everyone.”

I closed the closet and leaned on it. “How are your aunt and sister?”

“Same as me. Like I said, my parents died a long time ago. We needed to know by whom, now we do. Even though Lynus Frazee is dead, Ramsey knew, and Lynus’s son sure as shit did too.”

“Not that I’d ever defend Ramsey, but just because he knew, he has to die? And do you know that Barrett did?”

Saros motioned for me to come sit beside him, and I eagerly accepted.

“Barrett knew—of that, I’m certain. Just like I knew everything my uncle did before he handed things to me. He could have come to me told me what his father did, and it would have been a huge show of loyalty and support. But he didn’t, and I’m positive he’s working with Ramsey and their goal is to shut me down.”

I opened my mouth, but Saros pressed a finger against it. “And understand something. Ramsey isn’t dying for anything to do with my parents. He dies for what he’s done to you.”

Was it weird I that wanted to straddle him for saying that? Was something wrong with me?

“You’re having a conversation in your head again, aren’t you?” Saros grinned.

“Maybe.”

“What are you telling yourself?”

“That I very much want to kiss you.”

He opened his arms. “Then tell yourself to get on with it.”

So I did.