I shouldn’t go looking. I know that but I stand and leave the kitchen anyway.
The noise leads me down a corridor I haven’t fully explored yet. The bar room is dimly lit, just one lamp on, casting a warm glow across dark wood and glass shelves. Zane is there, seated at the counter, jacket off, sleeves rolled up. A glass sits in front of him.
I take a step back trying to be sneaky, maybe he hasn’t seen me yet.
"Elaine," he says without turning around. "You can come in."
Tsk so much for slipping away and being sneaky.
I move forward reluctantly and stop a few feet behind him. "Why aren’t you sleeping?"
He doesn’t answer, just lifts the glass, takes a slow sip and sets it back down.
I fold my arms. "Do you enjoy ignoring questions in general , or is it just mine ?"
A corner of his mouth twitches. Not a smile but something close. "What are you doing here? It’s late "
"I was hungry."
He glances over his shoulder. "At midnight?"
"I didn’t realize there was a curfew for being hungry."
He turns fully toward me then, eyes steady, assessing. "Aren’t you going to sleep with me? Like consummate our marriage?."
Okay I don’t know where that’s coming from but I have been in his house and sleeping under he’s roof for two days now, it’s only fair I know what to expect.
He eyes me. "Is that what you came here for?"
"No," I say quickly. "I came down here because I was curious I heard a sound and decided to follow it. But since you seem committed to pretending that conversation doesn’t exist, I figured I’d ask something else."
He pushes back from the counter and stands. Slowly and deliberately.
Every instinct in my body goes on alert.
He circles behind me, close enough that I can feel the heat from him. I don’t move, I don’t dare breathe either. His fingertips brush the side of my neck and my skin reacts before my brain can stop it. Goosebumps ripple outward.
He gathers my hair into his hand and pulls it back into a loose ponytail, tugging just enough to force my head up. I meet his eyes in the reflection of the mirror behind the bar.
Warm amber and a cold expression.
His voice is low when he speaks . "You don’t get to dictate the terms of this marriage little spitfire."
I swallow. My mouth is dry and my heart is pounding so hard it feels like it’s rattling my ribs. "I didn’t realize marriage came with ownership clauses."
He studies my face like he’s deciding something, then he lets go.
Just like that.
The sudden release almost sends me forward. I steady myself against the counter, legs weak, breath shaky despite my effort to hide it. He walks back to the decanter and pours himself another drink.
hem.
The room feels different now, somehow smaller
"What the hell are you doing?" I ask quietly.
He takes a sip before answering. "Thinking."
"About?"
He doesn’t look at me. "How this is going to work."
I let out a bitter laugh. "You choked me and threw me on the floor yesterday. If that’s your version of working things out, we’re already wayyyyy y past the point of discussion."
His jaw tightens. "You shouldn’t have slapped me."
"You shouldn’t have said what you said."
Silence stretches between us again,thick and uncomfortable.


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