I didn’t know what to expect from Ethan’s house, but this definitely wasn’t what I thought.

I guess I imagined some kind of log cabin. That’s the stereotype, at least. If he’s escaping the world then I figured he’d go all for it, but instead he built this gorgeous, modern home that seems almost entirely self-sufficient. It’s far from a log cabin in the woods.

It’s actually a mansion in the woods.

The entrance leads past a laundry and mud room, and into the main part of the house. It’s half kitchen, half enormous great living room with these big windows overlooking the countryside. I stare out those windows and feel myself getting lost in the landscape, and for a split second I think I understood why he wants to be alone out here like this.

We continue the tour upstairs. There’s a gym, which explains his incredible body, an office with a computer (“Yes, we have internet,” he says, winking at me), a little reading room, and another room full of records. There’s a bedroom at the end of the hall, and more stairs.

“You’ll be staying here,” he says, showing me the room. It’s small and cute and has its own little modern bathroom complete with a shower.

“Do you get many guests?” I ask him.

He gives me a look. “Come on.”

I follow him up to the third floor. There’s a movie room, sliding doors out onto a balcony that overlooks the valley, and a small sauna area. Outside on the balcony is a hot tub, but we don’t bother going out toward it.

“And this is my room,” he says, stopping at a door.

“Not taking me inside?”

He grins at me. “Not yet.” He leaves the door open. “Feel free to use whatever you want in the house. Nothing’s off limits for you if you end up getting stuck here, although I have two rules.”

“What are they?” I ask.

“You can’t come in here unless I invite you,” he says, knocking on his door.

“Easy enough,” I say. “What’s the other rule?”

“You can’t tell anyone where you are.”

I raise an eyebrow. “That’s creepy.”

“I know. But it’s more for my privacy than anything else. You can get online, and I have a satellite phone downstairs if you need to make a call, so you won’t be cut off from the world. But if you do use any of that stuff to contact someone, you can’t tell them where I live. Okay?”

“Okay,” I agree. “That’s reasonable. Just don’t try to murder me.”

Ethan grins. “I’ll see what I can do.”

I bite my lip as he brushes past me. I spot Jones slip into the movie room, and as we walk past again, I duck my head in there. Jones is curled up on an enormous, fluffy bed in front of the big screen, and I get the feeling that the movie room is really Jones’s room.

I follow Ethan back downstairs. “This house is gorgeous,” I say to him, and I mean it. The place is a mix of rustic and modern in very strange and interesting ways. Because it’s built to look like a cliff face from the outside, the inside has some odd special things, like little nooks and crannies. Still, the house is impeccably decorated, with modern, geometric art hung on the walls.

There’s a lot of exposed wood, old looking and probably real. The fixtures are mostly made from what I think is brass, but I haven’t really inspected them closely. The place clearly has electricity, running hot and cold water, and he doesn’t seem worried about losing any of that with the coming storm.

We head back downstairs and he makes himself a drink. He puts on some music, some jazz that I don’t really recognize, before he offers me some wine.

“No, thanks,” I say, and he just shrugs.

“What do you think?” he asks. “Not many people have seen this place.”

“It’s beautiful,” I say honestly. “Really, you should have more people over.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he says, laughing.

“What’s it called?”

He cocks his head at me. “What do you mean?”

“Well, all the best houses have a name. What’s this place called?”

“I’m not sure,” he says, smiling a bit as he walks over to the fireplace. He feeds another log to the blaze and sits down in front of it. “I guess I haven’t thought about it.”

“Come on,” I say, sitting on the couch across from him. “I’d call it your Fortress of Solitude.”

He laughs a little. “No, I think Superman can keep that name.” He leans back and thinks for a second. “I’d call this place Remmel Prison.”

He says it with a grin, but it surprises me. There’s a bitterness to his tone, and the idea that this place is a prison surprises me. Most people don’t voluntarily build their own prison and live there on their own.

Then again, most people don’t get rich and then disappear from public life completely like he did.

I can’t help but think about the explosion in his factory again. It’s becoming so clear that this place is like a punishment for him, but I don’t really understand why. From the digging I did, I found out that the explosion was ruled an accident, and nobody seems to blame him for it at all.

I glance out the windows. The sun’s nearly set completely, and the snow’s starting to fall. Thick and heavy, with wind blowing through the trees. It came on us pretty suddenly.

“I guess that’s the storm,” he says with a sigh.

“Guess so.”

“Did Shelly say how much we’re looking at?”

I shake my head. “Just that I might get stuck here.”

“Ever been to prison before?”

I laugh softly. “This is hardly a prison, Ethan. I mean, you have Wi-Fi.”

“Good point.” He stands up and stretches. “You hungry?”

I shrug a little. I didn’t expect to stay for dinner, and I know that if I want to get out of here, now’s my chance. The storm hasn’t gotten too bad yet, and I’m sure he’d still drive me back into town right now. Maybe he’d get stuck there too, but that wouldn’t be so bad. He’d be forced to see people for a change.

Instead, I just watch him go into the kitchen and start making something to eat. He uses the fresh stuff that Shelly brought mostly, fixing up two nice salads with cooked, sliced chicken breast on top. Eventually I wander over to the counter and sit down, watching as he works.

Every minute I wait, I’m more and more likely going to end up trapped in this house. It’s his prison, and I’m afraid of finding out why. I don’t know why a person goes to such lengths to keep themselves away from society, and yet he doesn’t seem totally out of touch with it. He’s living a modern life, just… away from people. He can call them, write emails, or even head into town whenever he wants to. He’s not exactly completely divorced from the world. He still has his toe dipped in, and he’s ready to go back whenever he wants.

Which makes him so much stranger. He’s a man that wants to keep the world away, and yet he’s still very much connected to it. There’s a contradiction there, a complexity that I don’t fully understand.

But I’m not here to understand him. As he places the food in front of me and sits down to eat, I think that maybe this might be a good time to tell him the truth. Maybe now I can tell him about the baby and have him drive me back into town before it gets any worse out there, and I’m stuck with this complicated, gorgeous guy.

Instead, we just have dinner together. I tell him about my job and he asks lots of questions about what it’s like to work for Murray. He’s a good listener and soon I forget all about my little baby problem, and I’m just enjoying having a conversation with him. He’s suddenly the guy that I slept with that night, and not a complicated billionaire recluse.

The night slowly wears on, and I can see the snow falling outside. It’s coming down thick and heavy, surprisingly heavy. The wind whips through the trees nearby, whistling in the branches. Jones comes down and Ethan lets him outside.

“Is that a good idea?” I ask. “It’s really coming down out there.”

“He’ll be fine,” Ethan says. “That’s a mountain dog.”

“Just like you’re a mountain man.”

He grins at me as we head back into the living room. The fire’s dying down and I realize that it’s actually getting late. We’ve been talking for almost three hours now, although we haven’t really said anything important. It’s still been comfortable, surprisingly comfortable.

“We should get some sleep,” he says. “We have an early morning tomorrow?”

“Do we?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

He grins. “Gotta get some work done.”

I don’t know what that means, and I don’t really want to know. “I don’t have any of my clothes with me,” I say.

“It’s okay. I’ll lend you some stuff.”

“I’m sorry about this. I really didn’t mean to get caught here.”

He shrugs. “We knew it was possible. We’ll see what it’s like out there tomorrow morning. If it’s not too bad, I’ll drive you back into town.”

I nod a little, feeling better. He heads over toward the fireplace and pokes at the dying fire, letting the ash and embers drop to the fireplace floor. I look out the window and for a second, I think I spot Jones darting off into the trees.

I turn back, and Ethan’s watching me. I can’t read the expression on his face, but it’s intense. I feel a chill run down my spine and I can’t help but think about that night we spent together, and the baby that’s growing inside of me.

“I’m heading up,” he says. “I’ll drop some clothes off in your room. Do me a favor and let Jones in soon.”

“I think I saw him running that way,” I say, pointing down into the valley.

Ethan shrugs. “Just shout his name and wait. He’ll come back.” Without another word, he disappears up the staircase.

I’m left standing in his living room, staring out the window, wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into. I feel like a crazy person, like I’ve stalked him down into his fortress and forced my way in. I never expected to stay overnight, let alone worry that I might be stuck here for a little bit. And of course, I don’t have my clothes.

But at least I have my phone. I find my jacket and pull it out of the pocket, but of course I have no signal. He mentioned a satellite phone, but I don’t know where it is.

I sigh again, lingering in the kitchen. I know I should get some sleep, but I don’t want to go up into that unfamiliar room with him so close to me. I’d rather curl up at the end of his bed… but I don’t even know what his bed looks like.

I groan a little bit. I’m such an idiot. I slip on my coat and head outside to let the dog in, which is something I can do at least. In the morning, apparently I have to work.