Slow, languorous, thorough lovemaking that seared me to the very soul, and as we lay panting, staring at the ceiling, skin damp with sweat and our legs entwined, I knew that was what Roane intended. He wanted to dig himself so deep inside me, there was no way I could let him go. I knew it, because he’d succeeded.

Now I just needed him to say those three. Little. Words.

Twenty-Three

The next morning when I woke up, Roane was gone. At some point the previous evening he’d texted Caro to ask if she could look after Shadow all night. We’d barely left the bedroom, and I’d fallen asleep, completely exhausted.

Seriously, the man had way too much stamina.

Okay, that sounded like a complaint.

I wasn’t complaining.

I’d be insane to complain about that.

What freaked me out was our lack of discussion about his sudden mood change and the fact that I’d woken up alone. For once I had no clue what was going on in Roane’s head, and I didn’t like it. The man was usually an open book, which I’d found was a rare quality in a guy.

The slight freak-out progressed into full-blown panic as the day wore on with no word from Roane. Around dinnertime I finally texted him to ask him how he was and if we were meeting at The Anchor.

He didn’t reply.

Pissed, heart heavy, I decided I wasn’t going to sit around in the apartment all evening waiting for him to decide to call. Instead I threw on my best jeans and a shirt that did amazing things for my cleavage and strolled up to the pub. As it was the first week of August and the beginning of a holiday week, I’d expected the pub to be busy with diners finishing their meals.

However, it was a fairly quiet night, and I recognized all of the faces sitting at the bar. To my delight, I found Caro at a table by the fire, and moved toward her after I greeted Milly.

Caro had her head bent toward her open laptop.

“Hey, you.”

Her head snapped up and she broke into a wide smile. “Evie, just the person I wanted to see. I’m trying to design my website and I want your opinion.”

“Design your own website,” I said, impressed. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

She blushed. “I’m afraid I’m unable to flirt in any language including English.”

Chuckling, I squeezed her shoulder. “That’s something we can fix.”

“Ugh, perhaps one day. For now will you look at this and tell me what you think?”

“Sure, just let me grab a drink. Do you want anything?”

“A Coke, please.”