It dawned on me how incredibly, impossibly Colin was beyond my reach. His house was beautiful but normal. But his family. Shit. His sister in the ballet. His brother with a mansion and a lawyer on tap.

What the hell was I doing here?

Oh, right. Saving my ass. From Andrew. Like a total user.

No wonder Rose had been suspicious of me. I was everything she feared.

Despite the chilly night air, warmth invaded my hands, and I glanced down to see Colin’s large hands rubbing mine between his own. I looked up at him. “I don’t…”

He cocked his head. “What’s wrong?”

“I just… It’s so big.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “It’s mostly for show. Don’t worry.”

He squeezed my hands. I wished I could believe him. I trusted Colin. But he hadn’t seen how his brother was using him. And Colin hadn’t expected his sister to confront me. It seemed to me that he had a blind spot where his family was concerned.

But we needed Philip for the lawyer, and besides, I had hopes that I could get in his family’s good graces. It was clearly important to Colin. I would do this for him.

I squeezed his hands back, and we walked up the steps.

We were let in by a man who seemed to know Colin but who didn’t look or speak to me directly. I looked to Colin for an introduction, but he seemed not to notice.

Surely Colin would know the way. It was clear he’d been there many times. But the man led us to an empty room and then left. A butler, of sorts.

The room screamed masculinity, a portrait of brown tones lined in black. I squinted at the framed sepia photograph nearest me—a matador and a bull. Very subtle.

“Colin. Are you sure…?” I didn’t even know how to end the sentence. This felt all wrong.

“Trust me,” he said.

I couldn’t tell him no. Over the warning bells clanging in my head and through the tense knot in my stomach, I trusted Colin. So I sat down in one of the chairs, the plush leather welcoming my body like a bed of quicksand.

Colin sat in the chair next to me, also sinking low.

Neither of us spoke, but I was determined not to second-guess him again tonight. He didn’t deserve that from me.

The click of shoes on wood announced the arrival of a tall man, leaner than Colin, and darker. He was dressed in a white dress shirt and black slacks, but he wore them as effortlessly as sweats. And when he stepped forward into the lamplight, I saw that his face was disfigured on one side, but it was hard to say what exactly was wrong with it. At least without staring, which I tried hard not to do.