He wanted to kiss her. Badly. He was pretty sure that physical contact could break through this weird impasse. But not with the possibility of an audience.
“Come let me show you around.” He kept his tone coaxing, gentle.
She shook her head. “I’m really tired,” she said. “I’d like to go to my room for a while.”
“You just got up.” He was losing it, and he could feel his frustration in the corded muscles of his neck and the way his breakfast churned in his stomach.
Winnie grimaced. “Your family is charming, but rather overwhelming. I’ll be down for lunch, I promise.”
Leaving him to stand there with his mouth hanging open in shock, Winnie walked out of the room.
* * *
She made it to her suite before the tears started in earnest. Making sure the bedroom door was firmly locked, she flung herself across the bed, buried her face in a pillow and sobbed.
That’s what you’re paying me for. How could she have forgotten, even for a minute? Larkin Wolff was in her employ. He took care of things, because that was his job. Sleeping with her probably fell under the heading of fringe benefits.
The stress of the past month caught up with her. At least that was what she wanted to blame for this hollow feeling in her chest. Not since her parents died had she felt such a sense of loss. Which made no sense, because Larkin was not hers to lose. He was honorable and kind and sexy as hell, but he was a free agent. He’d told her so. And she had believed him. But last night in bed her world had been turned upside down. So much passion and tenderness surely came from a place of affection at least.
No rationalization made the situation any more palatable. But she had never believed in feeling sorry for herself, so after fifteen minutes of crying that made her eyes swollen and her cheeks blotchy, she forced herself to get up, wash her face and make a plan of action.
On the worst days of her life, she had always survived by creating a list, checking something off and telling herself that tomorrow would be better. If that was what she had to do in order to remain sane during her exile on Wolff Mountain, she would do it.
Still feeling shaky and sad, she got out her computer and used the link Larkin had provided. Seeing in print how well things were going back home lightened her mood significantly. She cared deeply about each woman and child who came through her gates. Little Esteban had really carved out a place in Winnie’s heart, and it would be wrenching to see him go. But the whole purpose of what she did was to ensure that women could eventually make a new start in a home where they felt safe and happy.
The sound of a car engine outside her window enticed her to peer through the curtains and see what was going on. As she watched, Gareth and Larkin climbed into a Jeep and headed off down the drive. Conflicting emotions bounced around in her head. Relief that she didn’t have to face him for a little bit. And sorrow that he was gone.
She spent some time unpacking her suitcases, and then decided to explore the house on her own. It was a deliberate attempt to sidestep any notion Larkin had of coaxing her into fooling around in some out-of-the-way corner of his castle.
The house was huge, but laid out in such a manner that it made sense. Starting in the charming attic, she made her way from floor to floor, memorizing the location of various rooms such as the library and the solarium. Doors of unoccupied rooms stood open, each one pristine and ready for guests.
She found Annalise’s teenage bedroom still with posters of bands and fashion icons on the walls. None of the boys’ rooms had been preserved in that way as far as she could tell. The few doors that were closed didn’t tempt her in the least. She had no interest in snooping.