The fireplace roared behind the man, its heat soon beating against my face. Though I suppressed the urge to flee, I still had nothing to say.
Was it my imagination or had Lawton’s cool reserve turned icy cold? Nothing about his mood seemed welcoming now. Was it my failing that caused such a distance between us or was it the place itself – an example of Lawton’s claim about his home being a place ‘where good relationships go to die.’
I let my gaze wander as I tried to think, but when nothing glib or witty came to mind, I managed simply, “I wish I could take back the last five hours, Lawton. But I obviously can’t. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” he finally added his two cents.
For the first time since we’d met, I was on the verge of confessing the truth. I wanted to offer up my body as c
