He felt as if she’d plunged a knife through his chest. But what had he expected? That he could return whenever he wanted, and she’d be happy to see him?
Yes, dammit.
Instead, she was treating him like a stranger. Was she punishing him for staying away so long? For never once calling her? Never writing?
Ah, shit. He’d hurt her. Of course he had. Why hadn’t he ever considered what it would do to her when he’d left so abruptly? Right after she’d offered him her virginity.
“Julianne.” He clenched his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her, because that part of him that had always been tuned to her sensed she was on the verge of bolting. “I’m sorry.”
Her smile faltered. “For what?” Genuine confusion lit her eyes. She didn’t seem to know.
He studied her, looking past the beauty his eyes had craved, seeing the smudges of dark circles under her eyes and the paleness beneath the flush staining her cheeks. Beneath the pretense of calm, he sensed tightly controlled emotion, though what that emotion was, he couldn’t tell. It was more than simple anger. Much more. His instincts sensed…fear.
Dammit. How long had she been like this? Why had no one told him? Could no one else see it?
Why had he stayed away so long?
“I hear you’ve been playing Beethoven again,” he said softly.
Her gaze jerked fully to his, her eyes flaring open, her ripe mouth widening with dismay. Need slammed into him hard, tightening his body and squeezing his heart. A need to sweep her into his arms and hold her close. To protect her as he’d done since she was nine. A need to taste that sweet mouth and make love to her as she’d begged him to that fateful night ten years ago.
She wrenched back control, her gaze falling to his cheek. “It’s just music,” she said defensively.
But he knew better. They both knew better.
“You know you can tell me anything, Sunshine,” he said quietly. The desire to touch her was almost a physical ache centered right in the middle of his chest. A desire that was so much more than physical.
She smiled that painfully false smile. “Thanks, Zeeland. I appreciate that, but I’m fine. Really. It’s nice to have you back.” She sidestepped him, dismissing him.
He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from grabbing her arm to keep her from escaping. This wasn’t the time or the place. They had an audience, he realized belatedly. The whole damned enclave was watching them with sharp interest. Julianne was hardly going to confide anything to him here.
But sooner or later, she was going to tell him everything. That was a promise he made them both.
The moment Julianne left his side, the others surged forward to surround him again.
Grayson slapped him on the back with a laugh. “Come on, Zee.” Gray’s hair was as short as Zeeland’s own, the spider tattoo at the corner of his eye wiggling between the sudden smile lines. “You should see the spread we’ve got laid out. A true welcome feast. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
“Your timing is perfect, Zeeland.” Serenity hooked her arm through his, her eyes warm. “Tomorrow night is the big Valentine’s Day party for the enclaves, and it’s our turn to host.”
Grayson laughed. “Another captive streamer-hanger. Tell you what, Serenity. Zee and I will be responsible for fetching the beer. How’s that?”
Serenity rolled her eyes. “And it’ll take you all day to do it, I’m sure.”
Gray shrugged. “Hey, these things can’t be rushed.”
Zeeland caught a flash of turquoise rounding the corner and knew Julianne had made her getaway. For now. The Valentine’s party would be a nuisance. The more people in the house, the harder he’d find it to get her alone.
But get her alone he would.
His eyes narrowed with determination. Like the hunter he was, he’d back off for now and let her believe she was safe. He’d enjoy being home again, among his friends.
But the moment he found the right opportunity, he’d spring. Soon enough, he’d get to the bottom of the mystery that had become Julianne.
Nothing was going to stop him.
Especially not Julianne.
Chapter Four
Leaning back in his chair at one of the dining tables several hours later, Zeeland regaled the others with tales of his life with the British Guard. While his tablemates leaned forward, listening intently to his stories, his own attention remained elsewhere. On the music wafting in from the grand piano in the living room.
Julianne’s music.
Not Beethoven tonight, but Vivaldi. She wouldn’t play Beethoven in front of him. But not even Vivaldi was safe from the emotions that must be wreaking havoc inside her.