Since we left my house, Rys hadn't said much apart from generic polite phrases, and the air between us crackled with tension now that we finished eating our takeout lunch. We hadn't argued enough for me to know what to expect. Would he yell at me and storm out of the room like Brock? Would he give me the silent treatment until I got so desperate to fix things I'd apologize without even knowing what I did wrong?

Rys took our dishes to the dishwasher. As soon as he closed it, he braced his palms on the countertop and hung his head. His shoulders rose and fell several times as if he was trying to reign in some kind of unpleasant emotion. Probably anger. Sure he was mad at me, I was a few more minutes of his silence away from bursting into tears.

"I'll go take a shower," I said, standing. Rys didn't seem to hear me, or he was deliberately ignoring me because his position remained the same.

I darted out of the kitchen, heading straight to the en suite in Rys's room, where I stripped and got under the blistering shower spray. The tears I'd been trying to hold back since morning spilled, and sobs rocked through me as I pressed my forehead to the white tiles.

I'd put up with disrespect for years. Let others lie to my face and walk all over me. How would I look them in the eye once my vacation ended? I wished it never would, but I'd run out of money if I stayed in Marfolk much longer, and now more than ever, I refused to kiss pursuing my dreams goodbye.

The shower door slid open, and a gust of cool air hit my hot skin. I shivered, sensing Rys's proximity.

"God, it's boiling," he muttered, turning off the shower. Rys gripped my biceps and turned my limp body in his arms. As his naked skin touched mine and he wrapped me in a warm embrace, more tears of mine leaked.

"Please don't," Rys whispered, raining soft kisses over my temple and cheek. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."

He was apologizing to me. It felt surreal that anyone would.

"You were mad at me." I sniffled. "And I didn't deserve it."

Rys took my face between his palms. "Open your eyes and look at me."

His gaze was tender. He ran his thumbs over my cheeks and planted a soft kiss on my lips. "I wasn't mad at you. I was mad at the ones who hurt you, and I didn't know what to say because if I said what I wanted, I'd upset you." Rys smoothed my wet hair back, sighing. "Although I did that, anyway."

I leaned my forehead on his shoulder. "I have no choice, but I don't want to go back and see them."

"You don't have to," Rys whispered. "But regardless of whether you return home, they have no right to treat you that way. Nobody should be allowed to gaslight and steamroll another person into submission."

"I guess I let them, so it's my fault."

"No, mi cielo." Rys let out a dry, sardonic laugh. "It's that prick's fault. He blames you because he's guilty. His father owns five hotels, and you're telling me he doesn't know their names?"

I lifted my head to see Rys's face. "Five? It's at least twenty more. They just bought five last year." If that wasn't the case, my dad would never consider agreeing to a merger.

"Doubtful," Rys muttered, reaching for the faucet.

My heartbeats quickened. "Are you telling me Brock's father lied to mine?"

Water poured over the two of us, not nearly as scorching as when I got in the shower to cry. Calm and collected, Rys put his palm under the shower gel dispenser and then rubbed his hands together, turning the clear substance into lather.

"Turn around and give me that pretty back of yours," he said.

There was no logical way to explain why his touch had such a soothing effect on my nerves every time, but as Rys put his hands on me, my worries turned to dust.

He massaged my skin and washed every inch of my body, but I didn't hear an answer to my question.

"Rys," I said as we finished showering and he slid the shower door open. "Why did you say the Colemans only own a few hotels?"

He stepped out of the glass cabin, opened a cabinet, and pulled out two white, fluffy towels.

"That's the information I have, mi cielo."

His cryptic reply didn't explain much, but it was enough to confirm another suspicion of mine — I wasn't the only person the Colemans lied to. My dad was smart. I doubted he'd sign any deal without triple-checking every minor detail, and the shareholders would need to give their approval, but I needed to warn him once I was back in Wickhampton.

I didn't press further and let Rys dry me because I loved it when he took care of me, and for once, I chose to focus on myself.

***

"I want to show you something," Rys said after we got dressed. He took my hand in his and made his way out of the bedroom. Once we were in the kitchen, he headed for the door next to the pantry.

"What's in there?" I asked.

"A place I use to relax when I stay here."

"Your secret man cave?"

Rys breathed a laugh through his nose. "Not secret. Just a room full of stuff to entertain myself. You'll see."

As he opened the door and we stepped inside, I halted, my gaze darting around the spacious den. What caught my attention at first was a floor-to-ceiling bookcase against the wall on my left, then the giant screen on my right, and a couch resembling several king-sized beds put together in front of it.

"How many people did you think would watch movies here at once?" I asked.

Rys circled my shoulders with his arms from behind. The heat his body radiated seeped through the silk of the night dress I put on, hoping he wouldn't take too long to rid me of it.

"Tonight? Only you and I."

"So, it's a movie date?"

He lay a string of kisses on my neck. "Movie. Music. Games. We'll do whatever we want."

"Show me what you've got, then."

Rys pointed to the couch. We plopped on it, resting our backs against the assortment of gray throw pillows. He draped a blanket over the two of us and aimed a remote at the screen.

"What would you like to watch?"

"I don't even know what movies you like," I said, slinging an arm across his waist.

"Action," Rys said against my forehead. "Adventure. Thriller. Sci-fi. Fantasy."

"Romcoms?"

He grimaced, and I laughed into his neck. "Of course not."

"I'll watch one with you if you want, but they're predictable. You know what's going to happen within the first ten minutes."

I lightly grazed Rys's side with my nails. "That's the appeal, though. You're sure to get a happy ending."

"You mostly get those in other movies too."

"Mostly. But sometimes the good guy dies."

"Sometimes, the good guy dies in real life as well."

I pressed my lips to the base of Rys's neck in a soft peck. "So, it's realism all the way for Mr. Delano?"

Rys turned his head on the pillow. His blue eyes softened, and a smile ruffled his lips. "Realism and dragons."

"Is there a movie with that description?"

He pressed a button on the remote and scrolled through the catalog. "Let's see...no; I don't think so. Do you have any suggestions? If not, there's one I wanted to watch."

"Which one?"

Rys kissed my cheek. "Inferno. It flopped, but I read and loved the book, and I have a soft spot for Italy. Have you been there?"

"I've only been to England and France in Europe."

"That's not bad. Which of the two did you like more?"

I snuggled into Rys, and he splayed a hand over my lower back as if to make sure I wouldn't move away even an inch.

"They're so different I can't compare," I said. "I went with my parents both times. Dad loves museums and stuff, but Mom doesn't have the patience, unlike us. I'd take advantage of each day if I traveled again."

"When you travel," Rys said. "So, you never traveled with your..." He threw his head back and closed his eyes. "I can't. Can't talk about him. Can't stand the thought of you being with anyone but me. It's fucked up. I own up to it, but I can't lie to you."

He probably didn't have a right to be jealous, but who was I to judge when Rys consumed my every thought despite not being mine?

I gently pushed his messy hair back. "Brock and I never went anywhere. Didn't go on lots of dates, either. Just somewhere to eat or...sorry. Let's not bring him up."

"No, it's all right," Rys whispered. "I don't want you to feel like there's stuff we can't discuss, you know?"

I swallowed the ball of sawdust in my throat. "I know. And that's the problem. Because talking to you is one of my most favorite things. I'll miss it so much after—"

"Shh." Rys forcefully pressed his mouth to mine. "Let's not. Let's watch that movie, okay?"

Thinking about the future hurt more than I'd ever imagined it would, because it seemed hopeless. Purposeless. It was easy to daydream when I was far from home, but once I was back, I'd have to face the reality I ran away from and the people I no longer wanted in my life.

Rys pressed the play button and tossed the remote aside. I was safely cocooned in his arms, my leg thrown on top of his and his hand caressing my back. It was a tender, domestic moment, and I soaked in the calm it brought me as we focused our attention on the screen.

Midway through the movie, Rys hit a pause. "So, what do you think?"

We'd exchanged brief comments about the postcard-like images of the cobbled streets of Florence and the domes of its cathedrals, but hadn't talked about the plot.

"I like professor Langdon. The clues are intriguing. I don't get why you said they rated the movie low."

"Guess people had high expectations after the first two. Lots took The Da Vinci Code seriously enough to look for a conspiracy in real life."

"You too?"

Rys's chest vibrated with laughter. "No. I'm a man of facts, mi cielo. But I'll admit that some signs are worth paying attention to."

"What signs?"

Rys stroked my bottom lip with his thumb. "Your panties on my keyboard. Guess it was a sign something significant was about to happen."

I bit the pad of his finger. "You're hell-bent on making me remember the awkwardness."

"If it means you'll always remember me, I'll do more of that."

As if I could forget. With a kiss on the top of my head, Rys put an end to our conversation, and the movie played on the screen.

When the final credits rolled, he propped his head on his hand and rubbed a strand of my hair between his fingers. "So, your verdict. How should we rate it?"

"A solid seven out of ten. They saved the world and gave me the travel bug."

"You should definitely consider visiting there. Italy's known for its fashion. Wait."

Rys pecked my cheek and threw the blanket aside. He got up from the couch, stretching, and walked out of the room.

In a few minutes, he was back with a plate full of grapes and his laptop under his arm. I sat and scooted to the right to make space for him. Rys powered his computer, placed it on his lap, and plucked a grape from the plate.

"Open," he murmured, pressing it to my lips. "I'm going to feed you the apology grapes."

"I've already forgiven you," I said, biting into the fruit. "Having you naked in the shower with me helped."

"Don't take away my pleasure. I love taking care of you."

Rys watched me chew with a dawning of a smile on his lips. Then he ran his fingers over the laptop keyboard, typing way too fast for me to see what keys he pressed.

"Look," he said. "This might be interesting."

He angled the laptop so I'd see the screen and shoved another grape between my lips.

Design schools in Italy was what he'd typed in the search bar.

"No pressure," Rys said when I put my finger on the touchpad, failing to decide whether to scroll down and look or tell him there was no way for me to afford to study overseas without using my trust.

"Some schools offer grants." He circled my waist with his arm and brought me closer. "You might think chances of getting one are slim, but it's worth a try. Your future is worth it. And you," Rys kissed my jaw, "are worth everything, mi cielo."

Does Mr. Delano knows more than he lets on? Probably.

Don't forget about the star, guys!