Now all I had to do was take it.
The sound of footsteps on the porch behind me roused me from my thoughts, and I turned my head to see Rogers. He approached me stiffly, as was his style, and descended the porch stairs to stand in front of me. The man was oddly cryptic, but he seemed to have something to say, so I waited.
"Miss, do you require anything? The master instructed me to ensure you want for nothing."
Shaking my head, I gave him a weak smile. "No, thank you, Rogers." He stood there a moment longer, so I added, "Actually, I do need something. Where is Mr. Stone?"
Whatever warmth the butler had offered disappeared at my question concerning Tristan's whereabouts. If I had ever doubted it before, I knew now that Rogers was more than just a mere butler. He was the protector of his employer's secrets.
"He is gone for the evening, miss."
I nodded, disappointed that Tristan had left me there with just this spooky shell of a human. "Oh. Tell me, Rogers. How do you stand living out here?"
For the first time, Rogers seemed like someone I might be able to relate to, but I doubted he found living in the country as boring as I already did. To my surprise, he answered, "You may avail yourself of the car if you choose, miss. I can have Jenson bring it around, if you'd like."
"Thank you, Rogers, but I have nowhere to go. I had hoped to see Tristan, I mean Mr. Stone."
The butler's expression changed back to its usual stoic look and he merely nodded before he walked back into the house, leaving me wondering where Tristan had gone.
I sat outside watching the fireflies and looking up at the stars for hours. Living in the city included many great perks, but stargazing wasn't one of them, so I found a spot on the grass and watched the night sky as it moved above my head. The night was so dark, with no moon at all, and the stars had the stage all to themselves. They winked at me as I made a wish, hoping it would come true before I grew tired and had to go inside to my lonely bed.
By midnight, my wish hadn't come true, so I laid back in the cool, damp grass, closed my eyes, and painted a picture of my perfect night sky in my mind. I'd always found solace in that ever since I was a child. Whatever was bothering me, I'd close my eyes and imagine a scene I could paint. Then I'd rearrange things exactly the way they'd look if I were painting the picture.
Finally, I gave up waiting for Tristan and walked to my room, tired and disappointed. As much as I tried to push the thought out of my mind, I was sure he was out with another woman at some event much like the one I'd first seen him at less than a week before. Jordan's comment about him sleeping with a different woman every night chased all other thoughts out of my mind until I was convinced he'd never cared anything for me and all of this was some game he played because he could.
I was still tossing and turning when there was a knock on my door at three a.m., and I braced myself for Rogers' face on the other side of the door giving me the message that Tristan wasn't coming back. Anger at what I'd done to make that happen churned in my stomach, but there was nothing I could do now. I didn't even know where he was.
I opened the door and hoped I could at least keep my emotions together. Something told me Rogers wasn't good with tears and seeing me break down and cry would probably make the top of his head explode. But instead of the butler, there was Tristan standing in front of me dressed in a tux and looking even better than he did in a suit, if that was possible.
"Tristan!" I said with no attempt to hide my happiness at seeing him.
He was stunning in the black tux, white formal shirt, and black bow tie. The last time I'd seen a male close up in a tux was at my prom, but poor Bobby Jackson had been out of his league in that. Tristan wore it like other men wore jeans and t-shirts.
"Nina, I have something I want you to do. Come with me," he said as he held out his hand.
I looked down at my shorts and t-shirt I liked to sleep in and felt distinctly underdressed. "Should I change?"
"No. You look beautiful as you are."
Taking my hand, he led me to a sitting room similar to the one we'd sat in before, but this one had an enormous painting of an impressionist country scene on one of the inside walls. I began complimenting him on it and explaining the background of the style, but he continued walking to a door next to the painting, paying no attention to my impromptu art lecture. Opening it, he placed his hand on my lower back and escorted me into a narrow room with no lights.