“Well, I can show you the rest of the house.”

She paused for a moment as if not sure she wanted to be alone with me. “Okay.”

“We’ll be back,” I called to Justin. He just nodded absentmindedly and waved us off.

I motioned towards another set of stairs at the end of the hall. “It’s really just my bedroom up here.” My architect had designed a suite that stretched the length of the third story. But I honestly didn’t spend much time up there unless I was asleep.

Anna’s steps faltered. “Are we—? We have to share a bedroom, don’t we?”

It was something I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since starting the project of Justin’s and Lyla’s rooms. There simply wasn’t a workaround. “Unless you want to bring the kids in on what’s going on—”

“No. I won’t put them in that position. They need to think this is real.”

We reached the top of the stairs that opened into a sitting area lined with built-in bookshelves. Two overstuffed chairs and a small table were tucked into the space. Anna sucked in a breath. “This is beautiful.”

The window looked out over the property, the pool, the lake, forests, and then those gorgeous mountains. “It doesn’t get used nearly enough.”

Anna sent me a tentative smile. “Maybe I’ll have to remedy that.”

“It’s all yours.” I liked thinking about her curled up in one of those chairs, reading or relaxing. It fit somehow. As if I’d designed the space for her, even though we hadn’t met yet.

I motioned to the open double doors. “Here we are.”

Anna started inside, but her steps were hesitant as if she were checking for landmines as she walked. “It’s a great room.”

The bed was against the far wall, with a view of the massive windows looking out on that gorgeous view. And there was another sitting area in front of the windows, including a large couch. I gestured to it. “I can sleep there.”

She shook her head. “No. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Anna. I’m not making you sleep on the couch for a year or however long this takes.”

Her jaw tightened, a surefire sign that she was about to get stubborn. “You’ve already done more than anyone will ever do for me. I’m not stealing your bed.”

I blew out a long breath. “There’s one other solution.”

“And that is?”

“It’s a California King. We make a pillow barrier, and both sleep in the damn bed.”

Her perfect bow-lips twitched. “A pillow barrier.”

I pointed to the bed. “My interior designer insisted on about thirty pillows, so we’ve got plenty.” I held up a hand in a pledge gesture. “I solemnly swear not to violate the pillow barrier.” Unless I was invited to. But I kept that thought to myself.