“The two of you are welcome to use Nora’s room if you wish,” Gabriela offers, sounding uncertain.

“Thank you, but we wouldn’t want to impose. It would be better if we had our own space for these two weeks.” Still holding Nora’s hand, I get up and give the Lestons a polite smile. “Speaking of which, I believe it’s time for us to go. Nora needs her rest.”

“Nora is fine,” the subject of my concern mutters as I usher her toward the exit. “I’m capable of staying up past ten, you know.”

I stifle a grin at the grumpy note in her voice. My pet doesn’t like to admit that she tires easily these days. “Yes, I’m aware. But your parents need their rest too. Tomorrow is Thursday, isn’t it?”

“Oh, right, of course.” Stopping before we reach the front door, Nora turns to her parents. “I forgot that the two of you have work tomorrow,” she says contritely. “I’m sorry. We probably should’ve left earlier—”

“Oh, no, honey,” her mother protests. “We’re so happy to have you here, and we told you to come this evening. When are we seeing you next?”

Nora looks up at me, and I say, “Tomorrow evening, if that works for the two of you. This time dinner will be at our house.”

“We’ll be there,” Tony says, and I watch both Lestons hug and kiss Nora as they say their goodbyes.

17

Nora

When we get into the limo, I realize that I am tired, the tense excitement of the evening dissipating and leaving me drained. Rosa again takes a seat across the aisle from us, and Julian pulls me close to him, draping his arm over my shoulders. As his warm masculine scent surrounds me, I relax against his side, letting my thoughts drift.

My former captor and I just had dinner with my parents. Like a family. It’s so absurd I still can’t believe it happened. I’m not sure what I imagined when Julian agreed to take me for a visit, but this wasn’t it.

I guess on some level, I had simply refused to think about how something like this might go—my kidnapper sitting down to a civilized meal with my family. It was like a wall I’d put up in my mind, so I wouldn’t have to worry. When I had thought of going back home, I had pictured myself with my parents… just the three of us, as though Julian would stay in the background, remaining part of my other, darker life.

It was ridiculous to think that way, of course. Julian never stays in the background. He dominates whatever situation he’s in, bends it to his will. And even in this—in my relationship with my parents—he’s taken charge, inserting himself into our family on his own terms, perfectly comfortable where other men would cringe in shame.

Apparently, a conscience is a useful thing to lack.

“How are you feeling, my pet?”

At Julian’s murmured question, I tilt my head to look up at him, realizing I’ve been silent for the past few minutes. “I’m okay,” I say, cognizant of Rosa’s presence a couple of feet away. “Just digesting everything.”