“This is the formal living area, though not much living goes on in here, except for the occasional party. I’ve always found it to be on the stuffy side, like I’m a guest in my own home.”

“But it’s gorgeous,” Lily protested. “All those windows letting in the sunshine, antique furnishings, and that big wet bar! What’s not to love?”

“It’s okay, but Liam and I prefer to hang out in the media room upstairs. It’s more comfortable and has dozens of amenities.”

“I’m guessing a wide screen and surround sound are among those?”

“And a fridge full of beer.” He grinned, smothering another pang of loss. That room in particular was stuffed with gadgets he could no longer fully enjoy. “You’ll see. Anyway, the formal dining is through here, then the kitchen. Shall we?”

This part was trickier, navigating around the furniture. Not to mention the vertigo that still assaulted his senses on occasion. But the contrast in his vision between light and dark helped him discern the shapes, and he made it without mishap, running his free hand along the back of the sofa for a point of reference and bringing them into the dining room without falling on his face. God knew he savored each small victory, because he had no other alternative.

“I take it you don’t use this room much, either,” she noted. “It looks like it was cut straight out of a home magazine and the table doesn’t have a single scratch.”

“You’re right. I take most of my meals in my studio or the media room, and the rest of the time I simply eat in the kitchen with Liam. There’s something too depressing about eating alone at a table that can seat twenty.”

“You have a point there,” she said softly, with a tinge of sympathy.

What the hell had made him say that? The last thing he wanted was Lily, or anyone, feeling sorry for him. “Not that it matters since I can’t see the damned room anyhow. Let’s go bug Liam.”

He continued walking, aware he’d been abrupt and not proud of the fact. His charm deserted him more often these days, his moods less predictable and more difficult to control. Granted, he had a good reason, but that didn’t assuage his confusion and dismay. His sense of self had taken a beating and the loss of his sight was only a modest part of that.

However, none of this was Lily’s fault, something he’d best remember. He had a feeling she wouldn’t put up with his shit like Liam did, employee or not.

He paused inside the kitchen door, sniffing. “Something smells terrific.”

“Caramel crème brûlée for after dinner,” Liam said, sounding happy. In his element. Jude could hear the younger man shuffling around, banging metal lids and stirring something at the stove.

Lily groaned. “I can already tell living here is going to pork me up like a Macy’s float.”

Liam snorted. “You? Don’t believe her, boss. She’s five-foot-nothing and a good strong wind will blow her all the way to Times Square. A few naughty carbs will fix what ails her, though.”

“Sounds like it might take more than a few, but we’re all about naughty around here, so she’s doomed.”

“Totally.”

“Are we still talking about food?” Lily asked with a laugh.

Jude turned slightly in her direction. “After your eye- opening introduction, do you honestly wonder?”

“Hmm, I suppose not. But since two of us actually have work to do, unbridled sin will have to wait.” Her tone reverted to crisp and businesslike, yet remained friendly. “How much will my job overlap with Liam’s? I assume he’s been running your errands and such?”

“In truth, he’s been overloaded, cooking and doing much of what a PA’s job would entail, without complaint.” Jude regretted not realizing sooner all he’d been asking of the man. “He can help with errands when he’s not busy in the kitchen, but I’ll let you two work out the details. As I’ve said, we’re not formal around here, so whatever works best for you both is fine.”

“All right,” she said. Liam chimed in with agreement.

Jude nodded and went on. “Liam decides the menu each day, so if you have special dietary requests, dislikes or favorites, you’ll have to let him know.”

“Is the kitchen off- limits? What if I sneak in here for a midnight snack?”

“Sneak all you want, but if you kill it, let me know so I can fill it,” Liam said. “Nothing more aggravating than starting a meal, only to discover that someone-ahem-has gobbled the last of an ingredient I needed.”

Jude lifted a brow in mock annoyance. “Excuse me? Whose kitchen is it, anyway?”

“Mine, and don’t you forget it.”

Jude chuckled. The man was right. “That’s why you’ve been working for me for how many years now?”

“Four. I’m surprised I’ve put up with you that long,” the younger man commented good-naturedly, needling him.

“Why? Don’t I take excellent care of you?” Jude asked, putting a hint of suggestion in his tone.

“When you’re not disappearing for weeks at a time with no word, letting me wonder if…”

You’re dead somewhere. The thought hung unspoken in the air between them, dispelling the companionable atmosphere, and the silence grew charged.

The younger man stilled. “Shit. I’m sorry, Jude. It just slipped out.”

“Hell,” he muttered, curbing the impulse to snap out a reprimand. Despite Liam’s gregarious nature and the lapse just now, he could always be trusted to keep a confidence. Dammit, Jude hadn’t wanted to get into this so soon, but Liam had made an honest mistake, one that must be dealt with.

Lily broke into the tension, curious and concerned. “You make it a habit to vanish without informing your employees of your whereabouts? Why?”

“I can’t answer that,” Jude said curtly. The pressure in his head increased, along with a vague sense of anxiety. “I don’t have any idea where I used to go or what I did there. And if there are any clues in the house that might help answer those questions, Liam and I haven’t been able to find them.”

“Jude always let me know when he was leaving,” Liam clarified, taking his cue to be able to speak on the matter. “But I never knew when he planned to return until he called me from his cell phone on the way home. He always said what I didn’t know couldn’t hurt me, whatever that means.”

“So, you have memory gaps? Because of your accident?”

A sliver of guilt crept in. “Yes. Perhaps I should’ve told you up front, before you accepted the job, but I don’t see why my few limitations should affect our working relationship.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she said. “You did tell me about the headaches and the nightmares. After what you’ve been through, it stands to reason for there to be physical consequences. It is very strange, though, that only specific periods of time are a blank for you.”

“Head injuries can do weird things to the human brain,” he agreed. “Anyway, my intention was to eventually tell you about the gaps, maybe use you as my eyes to help me investigate where I went three or four times a year and why.”

Her stillness was almost tangible, her voice soft, but with a hint of warning. “Going by what you’d told Liam, you might not like the answer.”

“I think he has a hot babe stashed in a warm climate somewhere,” Liam joked in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood again. “He flies off, gets himself a little jungle lovin’, flies home a new man.”

Despite the quiet laughter the three of them shared, he and Liam strongly suspected the truth wasn’t nearly so fun.

“Nice thought,” Jude said with a wistful smile. “But if my visits with this imaginary woman caused me to come home wound tighter than an iron coil and seclude myself in my bedroom for days afterward, then I’d obviously need a new mistress.”

Lily’s tone became sharp. “You know for a fact that you acted this way each time you returned? Or are you just repeating what Liam told you?”

Jude paused. Why would she care either way? Still, he saw no harm in answering. “Repeating, mostly. It’s hard for me to separate what’s just a result of stress since the accident, and what might be real memories.”