“No.” It was Piper who stopped the kiss. The fingers she pressed to his lips were shaking. “No,” she said again softly. “This will go no further because neither of us want that.”

“You don’t know what I want.” Dylan’s voice was raspy. “In fact, I’m only here for a brief stay so if you want to—”

“I’m not like that.”

“That?” His hands still held her waist.

“Short-term, scratch an itch thing.”

And that was exactly what he wanted.

“So that’s that,” she said, sliding sideways and into the driver seat of her car. “I am sorry, Dylan, for how I behaved, and promise that from now on when we see each other I’ll be polite.” She closed the door softly.

He’d always thought of himself as an insightful man. Instinct was sometimes all he had to work with, and right now it was screaming at him as he watched Piper Trainer drive away from him.

Keep your distance from that woman.

Weird, it had never talked to him like that before.

Chapter 5

Dylan woke in his old room with a sore neck and cold feet. The walls had been papered over in a neutral beige, but the shelves still held all his things. Books, school pictures, and some trophies. He’d been good at basketball, and still played when he could, just as he’d been good at building things with wood. His mother hadn’t thought either of those occupations acceptable for the Howard heir.

Basketball was too rough and beneath him, and working with wood and his hands wasn’t something a Howard should do. An education, she’d believed, would soon push those ridiculous thoughts from his head. She’d been wrong. Dylan still worked with wood whenever he had the chance. He had a room in his apartment set up with his tools, and it was his place to go when he needed to clear his head.

Looking at the ceiling, he wondered if Piper Trainer had dreamed about him like he had her.

The bed was too small, and his feet hung over the end, and he’d banged his elbow against the wall during the night, but for all that he was now pleased to be here. Pleased to finally come back to the place he’d run from. Exorcising demons had not been the only reason for coming here; seeing his father had been important. Until he’d received that phone call, he’d never thought about his parents dying. Which was strange, as he was a total realist.

Getting out of bed, he took the small wooden chest he’d made in high school off the shelf. The top was curved, and had taken hours to sand smooth. There was a lock, but no key. Running his hand under the shelf he located it exactly where he’d left it.