In her previous life, Andrew Lane had known everything Ethan Lane planned to do, yet he’d watched it all unfold with chilling indifference.
Now, Andrew looked up at her with a lazy flick of his eyelids, his thin lips pressing together. “You’re upset?”
Emily Blair shot back, “Why would I be happy?”
He studied her for a moment, an unreadable look in his eyes, before turning away with deliberate slowness.
He said nothing more. Emily’s frustration simmered until she gritted her teeth. “Andrew, I told you—I want to go back to Kingswood Estate.”
He didn’t even open his eyes, just murmured, “I heard you. I’ll take you back later.”
“I want to go now,” she insisted.
He ignored her, making it painfully clear the conversation was over.
Twenty minutes later, Emily followed Andrew out of the car.
He walked ahead, and she, spotting her chance, quietly turned to leave. But before she took two steps, his voice stopped her.
Though he’d been walking in front, it was as if Andrew had eyes in the back of his head. “Emily, where do you think you’re going?”
Her heart leapt. He added, “Look at your shadow.”
He approached, his dark eyes calm and cold. Without asking, he caught her wrist and pulled her firmly back toward the house.
Inside, Emily gave up and flopped onto the couch.
She watched Andrew disappear into the kitchen, then emerge with a bowl of steaming pasta.
He set it down in front of her. “Susan made this. Try it.”
Her eyelashes fluttered.
Susan was the housekeeper Andrew had hired. She’d worked here nearly five years, caring for Emily during the messy months after she’d moved in.
Emily hadn’t expected Susan to think of her now.
She glanced around. “Where’s Susan?”

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