‘Hey!’ He halts my hand in its destructive tactics and holds it steady before prying the brush from my clawed fingers. ‘You know I have an appreciation for my possessions,’ he rumbles, swinging his legs behind me and pulling my hair over my shoulders. His words, however arrogant they may be, go some way to bringing me around. ‘This is part of my possession. Don’t abuse it.’ The soft bristles of the brush meet my scalp and slowly drag through to the ends of my tresses as we’re joined by the Beach Boys’ “God Only Knows”.
Miller’s temper refuses to make an appearance, his introduction of such a merry and hard-hitting track emphasising that, leaving my grumpy arse to be grumpy alone. An unreasonable part of me was hoping to spike a bit of that temper so I’d have something to bounce off. ‘Why did you hang up on William?’
‘Because it got out of hand, Olivia. You’re giving me a run for my money in the crazy department. I’m sending you over the edge.’ There’s despair in his tone. Guilt. Reluctantly, I nod, silently accepting that he’s right. It did get out of hand. And he really is sending me over the edge. ‘You mentioned Charlie. Who is he?’
He takes a deep breath before he begins. I hold mine.
‘An immoral bastard.’
That’s it. That’s all he says, and my next question, despite knowing the answer, tumbles past my lips as the stored air releases. ‘You’re answerable to him?’
There’s an uncomfortable silence and I brace myself for the reply that I know is coming. ‘Yes, I am.’
My head begins to pound mildly with the building of all of those questions I’ve tossed aside too easily. Miller is answerable to a man named Charlie. I can only imagine what type of character he is if Miller fears him. ‘He’ll hurt you?’
‘I make a lot of money for him, Olivia. Don’t think I’m afraid of him. I’m not.’
‘Then why did we run?’
‘Because I need time to breathe – to think about the best way to handle this. I told you before, it’s not as easy as just quitting. I asked you to trust me while I figured this out.’
‘And have you?’
‘William has bought me some time.’
‘How?’
‘He told Charlie that he and I had crossed. That he was looking for me.’
My brow meets in the middle. ‘William told Charlie you pissed him off?’
‘He had to justify why he was in my flat. William and Charlie aren’t exactly pals, and neither are William and I. You might have guessed.’ He’s being ironic, and I huff my acknowledgement. ‘Charlie mustn’t know about my association with William. It’ll give William a headache. I don’t like him, but I wouldn’t wish a pissed off Charlie on him, no matter how capable he is of taking care of himself.’
My poor mind spirals into meltdown again. ‘Where does that leave us?’ My voice is hardly decipherable through my fear of what the answer might be.
‘Anderson thinks it’s best if I return to London. I disagree.’
I sag, relieved. I’m not going back to London if he has to hide me, if he has to continue entertaining these women until he finds an out.
He squeezes me reassuringly, like he knows what I’m thinking. ‘I’m going nowhere until I’m certain there’s no danger to you.’
Danger? ‘Do you know who followed me?’
The brief silence that falls and screams as a result of my question doesn’t curb my growing trepidation. He just looks at me as the gravity of our situation grips me in its vicious claws. ‘Was it Charlie?’
He nods slowly and the ground tumbles away beneath me. ‘He knows you are why I quit.’
He must feel the panic flaring because he drops the brush and turns me around, helping to make me comfy on his lap. I’m locked in his thing, but today it doesn’t make me feel better. ‘Shhh,’ he soothes me pointlessly. ‘Trust me to deal with this.’
‘What other option do I have?’ I ask. This isn’t a multiple-choice quiz. There is only one answer.
I have no choice.
Chapter 5
Miller spent the rest of the day humouring me, riding the open-top hop-on-hop-off tour bus around New York City. He smiled fondly when I ignored the tour guide, choosing to give him my own rundown of the sights we saw. He listened with interest and even asked me questions that I was quick to answer. He was relaxed when we hopped off to take a wander, and he was willing when I dragged him into a typical deli. The fast pace in which everything is carried out here was a little intimidating when we first arrived, but I’m getting to grips with it now. I ordered fast and paid faster. Then we walked and ate, something else new to Miller. He was awkward but didn’t complain. I was delighted but restrained all evidence, like this is us every day.
The early morning drama, coupled with our hours of exploring, left me physically unable to hold myself up by the time we make it back to the penthouse. Facing twelve flights of stairs nearly finishes me off, and rather than confronting his fear and utilising the lift, he scoops me up and takes the stairs with my exhausted body draped across his arms. I enjoy the closeness, as usual, only just mustering the energy to cling to him. I can still feel and smell, even if my heavy eyes refuse to remain open. His firmness against me and his signature scent drifting into my nose takes me off to a dreamland to rival the best of dreams.
‘I’d love to bury myself inside you right now,’ he murmurs, his low, sex-filled timbre pulling my lids open as he lowers me to the bed.