Chapter 9 Ninth Chapter.

The next days at the Grey House were a blur of tension and unspoken words. Laura felt like she was walking on a tightrope, balancing between feeling her own self-worth and the cold stares she received from Carson's mother and sister. She tried to make every moment out of the way, confining most of her time within the guest wing Carson identified as hers. The rooms were beautiful-fine furnishings, large windows that looked onto the gardens-but felt like a gilded cage.

Carson had stayed true to his word: he talked to his mother and Vivian, but the women's attitudes hardly changed. To both Mrs. Grey and Vivian, Laura was still an interloper, a movie star who didn't have any business, either running into them or saving their lives. They saw in her their threat to immaculate reputation-a scandalously public woman she would be, and she certainly didn't want this kind of publicity. She could hear them whispering and commenting. She walked with her head high-she would not let their disdain shatter her.

But Carson was a riddle. He could not get his corner pieces to fit. He was attentive, checking in with her regularly and seeing that everything was there for her. Up close, though, there was a distance in his eye; it obstructed real purpose from being seen by Laura. He was kind, not overmuch on the side of affectionate, caring but protective, yet strangely aloof.

He could be positive that he was only acting, a role that he loathed yet was very willing to stick to until the end of their contract, if there was such a thing.

After another trying dinner, dark with silences and tempered with venomous verbal barbs by Mrs. Grey, Laura felt she needed some fresh air. So, she left the dining room, strode up the grand hallway of the mansion, and stood at the doorway to the library.

It was a large room, which ran the entire length of the house; wide, heavy bookcases full of all sorts of books were ended by a massive, laden oak at either end of it. The air was full of the smell of leather and old paper and was only lightly illuminated, incidentally, by the faint light of a lamp on a mahogany desk.

Laura released a breath she didn't realise she was holding and sank into a plush armchair near the fireplace. To close her eyes for a moment felt so good. The entire time of her stay in New York, she was never alone, either under Carson's family looks or the pressure from the contract she had signed. At least here, she could breathe.

But she lingered for a minute; the door creaked open, and Carson stepped inside. He saw her and paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

"I never thought I'd find you here," he said, his voice low.

Laura opened her eyes, meeting his. "I needed some space," she said. "Your mother and Vivian... they don't make it easy."

Carson nodded but pressed further into the room. "I'm sorry about them," he said. "They're... difficult."

That's an understatement," Laura repeated under her breath, the frustration working its way right to the surface. "Why did you even bring me here, Carson? You knew they wouldn't accept me.

Carson sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I brought you here because it's part of our agreement, but, more than that, I thought maybe if they got to know you, they might come around.

Laura snorted. "Like that's going to happen. They've got their minds made up about me already."

"Maybe. But they don't know you like I do."

"How well do you think you know me then, Carson?"

Carson's eyes gentled at her. "Better than you think," he said. "I know you are tougher than you think. I know you are doing this for your mother, and I respect that. And I know you didn't have to sign that contract, but you did it anyway. That says a lot about you." Laura's heart fluttered at his words. This was warm and sincere in a way completely unlike the Ryan she knew from school. Part of her even wanted to hope, for one brief second, that maybe Carson was more than just what he showed. Just as quickly, she hastily evicted the thought. Not now; she really couldn't let her guard down now.

She murmured, "Maybe, but this isn't easy, Carson. Your mother and Vivian... they won't change their minds about me.

Carson nodded, moving further into the room. "I know we can't let them rule our lives. We made a deal, Laura, and I mean to see it go through. No matter what."

Laura looked at him, a bit weaker. "What about afterward, when the year is up? What then?"

Carson was silent for a moment, his face inscrutable. "Let's worry about that when we have to," he said at last. "For now, let's just try to get through this."

Laura nodded, though a small voice inside her head was positively screaming the opposite. She knew Carson was right-that they had a deal and that now he had to go through with it. But with every moment that passed in the Grey House, she felt more and more like a chess piece being carefully moved by the players in the course of some deadly serious game.