‘Fine. As you wish,’ he mutters.
I nod and gather myself. ‘Where should I meet you?’
‘Meet me?’ His forehead furrows.
‘I’ll meet you at the restaurant.’ Miller picking me up is too familiar, and I can’t allow Nan to think all is well when it isn’t.
That declaration gains me a flash of irritation, but he contains it coolly. Delving back into solace with Miller is dangerous, but I fear I have no other choice and not just because he doesn’t appear to be giving me one. He’s back in my life, and I really want him to be. I need his comfort, his thing, his words. I need it all. Nothing has ever made me feel so protected but at the same time so utterly vulnerable. And nothing has made me feel so strong, yet so incredibly weak. There has to be a middle ground.
‘Fine.’ He exhales a mixture of frustration and annoyance. ‘When did you become so difficult?’
‘The second you touched me,’ I reply quietly, finding the sass that has become paramount since I fell into the curious world of Miller Hart. I won’t survive without it. I won’t survive him without it.
His palm lifts slowly and cups my cheek, stroking slow circles. ‘The second I looked at you, I saw light through my constant darkness.’ He moves in, his mouth getting closer, my eyes focused only there. ‘I saw bright, hopeful light reflecting back at me through those beautiful sapphire eyes.’ He doesn’t kiss me; he just keeps our mouths close, his breath spreading across my face, enhancing the sense of warmth coursing through me. My eyes close. ‘I’ll respect your request for this evening. But remember, you are my possession, Olivia. You’re my habit, and I’m not going down without a fight.’ He releases me, leaving me breathless, dizzy and feeling abandoned. I open my lids to face torturous beauty. ‘And I won’t lose no matter who takes me on. Even you.’
‘Where shall I meet you?’ I breathe, not caring to challenge him on his confident claim. I’ve seen him in action, fists flying, and I’ve also felt him in action . . . worshipping action. All challengers are doomed. Including me.
‘Seven o’clock here.’ He takes a pen from his inside pocket and scribbles an address on an old receipt from his wallet before handing it to me. ‘I’ll be waiting.’
I nod as he starts to back away, smoothing down his suit before sliding his hands into his pockets. Our eyes lock. I see hope there. I see confidence. I see fear. And I see caution. But I’m not sure if that caution is for him or for me. Probably both.
Miller breaks the eye connection, then turns away from me and strolls off to his car.
My palms hit my cheeks and rub some life back into them. I feel hot, my mind a jumbled mess of contradicting thoughts, worries . . . fear. I’m frightened of him, but he makes me feel unbelievably safe. I’m worried about him, but I’m worried about me, too. I can’t even fathom my thought process, which is jumping from surrendering to fighting harder against him. Nothing is making sense.
I’m in a world of my own, trying to figure out too much, when I find my palm stroking my nape. The hairs are dancing wildly under my touch, tingling, making my skin buzz.
‘This is exactly what I was afraid of.’ The velvet voice pulls my body around slowly, warily, and my heart sprints up to my throat.
Chapter Nine
I’m not sure whether I should be relieved or worried by what I find. William is leaning against his Lexus, arms crossed, ankles crossed. He doesn’t look happy, his typically sparkling grey eyes fractious and his soft features cut with annoyance.
‘You’re following me?’ My question spills on a guilty gasp – the guilt for my weakness where Miller’s concerned, the gasp for my shock at finding William here.
‘I’ve been trying to call you.’ He pushes his body away from the car and strolls over casually until his hulking frame is towering over me. ‘Where’s the phone I bought you?’
‘I haven’t charged it.’ I divert my eyes downward, for what reason I don’t know. He might be right about Miller, but I’m not answerable to him. London’s most notorious male escort may have resided in a dark place, but I’m making it light. He wants to change for me. I have to make my own decisions. I’m the master of my own destiny.
‘Then you will,’ he orders. ‘Tell me why you were at his club.’
I look up, shocked. ‘You have been following me!’
‘I told you before. I make it my business to know what happens in this world. When I heard of an incident at Ice involving Miller Hart and a pretty little blonde, it didn’t take long to figure out who the pretty little blonde was.’ He cups my jaw and lifts my chin. ‘Walk away.’
I shake my head, my eyes beginning to well with tears. ‘I’ve tried. I’ve tried dozens of times and I can’t.’
‘Try harder, Olivia. You’re falling into his darkness and there’s no getting out once you land. You have no idea what you’re truly getting into.’
‘I love him,’ I sob, admitting aloud for the first time that I’m still in love with the confounding man, who is even more of a mystery now than he ever was before some of his secrets were revealed. I can’t fall into his darkness if I’m keeping it light. ‘It’s painful love.’
He winces at my confession, and I know it’s because he identifies with how that feels. ‘The pain will subside, Olivia.’
‘Has it for you?’ I ask.
‘I don’t . . .’ He frowns and drops my chin from his hold. I’ve surprised him with my question.
I don’t give him a chance to pull himself together. ‘You’re crippled by agony every day. You let your Gracie go.’
‘I had no—’
‘No,’ I cut him off, and he doesn’t chastise me for it. The formidable William Anderson snaps his stubbled jaw shut without a word. ‘Don’t tell me it gets easier.’
His smart-suited shoulders sag and I sidestep him, making my way to the Tube, my words spoken to William strengthening my reasons to take Miller on. Years after walking away from Gracie, William Anderson is still in agony. He hasn’t got over her, and he doesn’t look like he ever will. If William Anderson has felt like I do right now for all these years, then I think I’d rather take death.
‘Get in the car,’ William calls from the inside as it slows alongside me.
‘No, thank you.’
‘Damn you, Olivia!’ he yells, halting my determined march. ‘Don’t make me manhandle you.’
I’m stunned into silence and stillness by his threat, the coolness of this well-respected, well-contained man heated to the boiling point. ‘You’re just going to nag me,’ I splutter, not knowing what else to say.
He actually rolls his eyes, stunning me further. ‘I’m not your father.’
‘Then stop acting like it,’ I spit, that word enhancing the absence of a male confidant in my life. I haven’t needed one for twenty-four years. But then again, I’ve not encountered a Miller Hart during that time. Until now.
‘Would you kindly get in and allow me to drive you home?’