Chapter 101
Chapter 101:
The words hung in the cool night air.
Dallas froze. He turned his whole body toward her. “Did you p>
“I wanted to hurt him,” Eliza explained quickly, her hands twisting in her lap. “I wanted to make him stop. It was the only weapon I had left p>
Dallas relaxed slightly, but a shadow crossed his face. He looked at her, his eyes searching hers in the moonlight.
“Effective,” he murmured.
Then he asked the question she was terrified to answer.
“Was it a lie p>
𝗡𝖾𝘸 𝗰𝗵a𝘱𝘁𝗲𝗿ѕ ev𝗲ry 𝘄𝗲e𝗄 𝗈n
His voice was low, free of any pressure — just a simple, honest question.
Eliza looked at the lake. She thought about the way he had saved her. The way he looked at her. The way he had built this garden.
“I don’t know anymore,” she whispered.
Dallas didn’t push. He didn’t demand a clarification. He simply watched her, his expression unreadable.
“Stay,” he said. “The guest room is ready p>
A loud, thoroughly unladylike growl interrupted the moment.
Eliza’s hand flew to her stomach. Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I skipped dinner p>
Dallas let out a short, low chuckle — a rusty sound, like he hadn’t used it in a while.
He stood and buttoned his jacket. “Come on p>
He led her not into the house, but to a covered patio that looked more like a professional kitchen than a backyard grill. Stainless steel appliances gleamed in the dim light.
He opened a mini-fridge and pulled out two bottles of beer and a vacuum-sealed package of marinated steaks.
“You cook?” Eliza asked, surprised. She had only ever seen him in boardrooms or in the back of a town car — a man who seemed to survive on black coffee and ambition.
“Survival skill,” Dallas said, firing up the massive gas grill. “Boarding school food was inedible. And in the later years, you learn to make do with what you have p>
He took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. His forearms were thick with muscle, corded with veins.
Eliza watched him. The domesticity of it was disarming — it made him seem less like a titan of industry and more like a man.
He handed her a cold beer. “Drink p>
She took a sip. It was crisp and bitter, washing away the taste of her anxiety.
The smell of searing meat soon filled the air, drifting together with the scent of the roses.
“So,” Dallas said, flipping a steak with practiced precision, not looking at her. “Anson is behaving p>
Eliza traced the condensation on her bottle. “He broke into my room last night p>
Dallas stopped.
The sizzle of the grill seemed to die. All sound ceased except for its low hum. He didn’t drop the tongs. He simply held them, his hand suspended motionless over the flames.
He turned to her slowly. His face was in shadow, but the tension in his shoulders was terrifying. The firelight caught his eyes, turning them from blue to chips of ice.
“He what p>