Page 115 of Smoke Screen
He turned back, gesturing to the door. “I had a meeting with Zeke and Cruz.”
“At four in the morning? Is everything okay?”
Because, really? When they’d gone to sleep, he hadn’t been too concerned with work. Now, after two rounds of extremely amazing sex, he suddenly had a meeting?
Or was he avoiding her?
“Yeah,” he said. “We … uh …” He waved it off.
Avoiding her. Excellent. Maybe all last night had been was two people finding a soft place to land after a traumatic experience. If that were the case, better to know sooner than later. Even if it did sting.
She lifted her chin. Pointed to the bedroom. “I’ll get dressed and head back to the guest suite. Give you your space.”
“Myspace? Is that what you want?”
“No. But I think it’s what you want.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me? I’ve barely said two dozen words. How did you get to that assumption?”
Uh-oh.Chill bumps shot up her arms. She’d screwed up. Already. “I got up in the middle of the night. You were gone. Not even a note. I thought you …” What was she doing? Besides making a fool of herself. “Forget it.”
“Maddy, I just told you I had a meeting with Zeke and Cruz. We don’t work normal hours. We work when we work. I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I came out here to check my e-mail and found the executive suite footage we asked for.”
The burn of humiliation scorched her cheeks. He’d been nothing but kind and she’d automatically thought the worst. It had to stop. “Did you find something?”
“Maybe.” He held up his hands. “But I’m sorry. I can’t talk about it. Zeke’s pain-in-the-ass NDA.”
Uh-huh. He’d literally licked every inch—everyinch—of her and he couldn’t tell her what was on that video? As if she’d tell someone? Good for him for being a team player, but really? How insulting that he didn’t trust her.
“I see,” she said, the last word coming out way sharper than she’d intended.
He lifted his hand to his forehead and squeezed. “Please don’t do this to me. There will be things I can’t share. You know that.”
Yes. She did know. However, if the roles were reversed, had Phin been the one tormenting himself over being a suspected thief, and she could relieve his mind, she’d do it. She’d trust him.
And, hey, she might be a tad pissed about that. She fought the urge to cross her arms—terrible body language there. Instead, she kept her hands at her sides, fingers relaxed. “You’ve been clear about the NDA. I guess I’m confused. I’ve shared everything with you. Even when my lawyer told me not to, Itrustedyou.”
“This has nothing to do with trust.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“No. This is about loyalty to my family. We have a business that runs on confidentiality. Right now, I can’t tell you what I met with Zeke and Cruz about. Tomorrow? Maybe.”
Maybe. How very generous of him. “I guess that’s that, then.”
He pulled a face. The are-you-kidding? one. “Now you’re pissed at me,” he said.
Statement, not a question.
“I’m not pissed.” Yes, she was. “Look at it from my side. I woke up, and you were gone. I thought—”
“Yeah. I know what you thought.”
“I wasn’t done speaking. You left and then you came back and can’t tell me what you met with your brothers about. I’ll admit, after what we went through yesterday and the night we just had together, the fact that you don’t feelcomfortableconfiding in me … I don’t know,” she flapped her arms, “stings. I guess.”
“Well, how about next time you give me half a chance to explain before jumping to the conclusion I was walking out on you. Or that you don’t think I’mcomfortable.After last night, what would make you think I’d bolt? I let you sleep in my own damned bed! If I didn’t want you there, trust me, you wouldn’t have been there.”
He turned, walked into the galley kitchen, whipped open the fridge, grabbed a carton of orange juice, and held it up. “You want something?”
