I caught him with his back to me in one of the sitting rooms. The door wasn't completely closed, but he was speaking very quietly into the phone.
"Then offer them more. I mean it when I say I don't have a limit to what I will pay to keep this from getting out." He paused. "I don't give a fuck if it's a smart business decision, Roger. This isn't about business. This is about keeping my life intact, the way I need for it to be, and I don't give a fuck if it takes my fortune to accomplish that. Do you understand?" Another long pause. "I am not a fourteen-year-old that you are managing, Roger. I don't need time to think. I need you to do what I'm asking you to. Take care of this."
Fear froze me in my tracks, and I stood in the doorway, listening. His tone was so panicked, so desperate. I did not want to know what had put that fear in him.
I didn't move from the doorway as he ended the call and turned. I had been eavesdropping on him, and I'd just as soon have him know it. Perhaps he would tell me what had happened, and it wouldn't be as bad as the dread coursing through me was telling me it was.
He flinched when he saw me standing there, and that was so not good for my peace of mind. We suffered through a very long, awkward silence while he rubbed his temples and I watched him.
"Everything okay?" I finally asked him.
He grimaced. "It will be," he said. That was all.
"Who is Roger?" I asked. Being with James seemed to have added nosy quite firmly to my list of character flaws.
"An old family friend. A sort of mentor to me. And my lawyer."
I thought that sounded ominous, but he didn't elaborate, and I didn't ask him to. If he didn't want to share, I couldn't make him.
He moved to me finally. He ran a hand over my hair, grabbing it firmly at my nape. He used it like a handle to tilt my face up to him. There was trouble in his eyes. "Did you mean what you said last night?"
I studied him, beyond confused. "About what?"
His jaw clenched and he watched me for a long time. "About loving me. I know you were tired and scared from the nightm-"
I couldn't take it. I interrupted him rudely. "Of course I did! I wouldn't say something like that just because I was tired."
"Say it again," he ordered roughly.
"I love you. Of course I do. You shouldn't doubt me. I wouldn't say it unless I meant it."
"How conditional is that love? How much are you willing to withstand just to stay with me?"
I was starting to get angry. "I don't like the question. Love in a monogamous relationship has to have some conditions, James. If you were unfaithful-"
"I'm not talking about that. I'd never do that. Does your love have other conditions?"
I glared at him, but I shook my head, finding the answer way too quickly. "I don't think that it does, James. But again, I don't like the question. Do you want to tell me why you're asking it?"
He was gripping my hair to the point of pain now. "I'm asking it because every time I think that we're on our way to building a future together, something from the past gets in the way, and I need to know that won't happen to us again."
I thought he was being deliberately vague, but I let it go. I was in no mood to open Pandora's Box. "The past can only hurt us if we let it, if it really is the past that we're talking about."
He studied me, then kissed me roughly. He brought his mouth to my ear. "I want to tie you to my bed. Now. I want to keep you there."
My brain short-circuited for an instant, going to that sublime place that only James could take me to. "I need to leave for the airport soon."
"I know. That's why I want to do it. So you can't leave."
I tried to meet his eyes to give him an exasperated look, but he was kissing me, invading my mouth until I forgot why what he'd said was so outrageous.
He pulled back only when he'd left me breathless and wanting.
"Have you given any thought to your painting career?" he demanded. "When would you like to start planning your first showing?"
I had, in fact, been thinking about it. It was a persistent sort of distraction in my brain. Especially when I considered that James currently paid much more to have me followed and protected on flights than I was actually earning on those flights. It seemed so wasteful and senseless.
"I have," I admitted.
His jaw clenched when I didn't elaborate. "And what are your thoughts?"
I gave him my little shrug. "I'm mulling it over."
He gave me a rather pained smile. "Well, you let me know when you're done mulling," he bit out. "I would love to know your thoughts on the matter."