Chapter Twenty-Three
I can hear talking. It’s faint, but it’s there. The room is illuminated only by spots of London’s night-time light on the skyline. If I didn’t know better, I would think I was outside on a balcony staring out across the city, but I’m not. I’m on Miller’s worn sofa in front of the huge glass window, na**d and with a cashmere throw draped over me – somewhere better.
I sit up, dragging the blanket with me, and blink back my tiredness, yawning and stretching as I do. The view and my sleepiness distract me from the voices I heard a few moments ago, but then Miller’s slightly raised and agitated tone reminds me of his absence from the couch. I pull myself to my feet and make the best job of wrapping the blanket around me before I pad across the wooden floor to the door, pulling it open soundlessly and listening for him. He’s speaking quietly again, but he sounds irritated. The last time he took a call in the night he disappeared. Flashbacks of our hotel encounter ricochet around my head like a bullet, making me wince. I can’t think of him like that. The man I faced in that hotel room wasn’t the Miller Hart I know and love. He needs to change his number, make it impossible for these women to get hold of him. He’s not at their disposal any more, although I begrudgingly note that they don’t know this yet.
I start towards the sound of his muffled voice, his words becoming clearer the closer I get until I’m standing at the doorway of his kitchen staring at the scratch marks Cassie left on his na**d back.
‘I can’t,’ he says, resolute and completely fixed. ‘It’s just not possible.’ His words fill me with pride, but then he collapses to his arse on a chair, revealing another person in the room.
A woman.
My spine lengthens.
‘What?’ she asks, her surprise evident.
‘Things have changed.’ He reaches up and drags his palm through his hair. ‘I’m sorry.’
I gulp. Is this it? Is this him officially quitting?
‘I won’t take no for an answer, Miller. I need you.’
‘You’ll have to find someone else.’
‘Excuse me!’ she laughs, flicking her eyes past Miller’s seated form and catching me at the doorway.
I jump back out of sight, like she hasn’t already seen me. She’s mature, but very attractive, her ash-blond, perfectly styled bob fixed in place and her fingers wrapped around a wine glass. She has long, red talons for nails. That’s about all I got a glimpse of before I stupidly hid and, feeling very foolish about it, I turn to make my way to the bedroom, trying in vain to steady my erratic heartbeat. He’s declining her. My intervention isn’t needed and I distinctively recall Miller saying the fewer people who know about me, the better. I hate it, but I have to follow his lead, given that I have no clue where we’re headed.
‘Well, well.’ I hear her smooth voice as I’m making my escape, my shoulders jumping up to meet my earlobes. I know she saw me, but a silly little part of me was hoping my stealthy movement removed my body from view before her beady eyes captured me.
Wrong.
Now I feel like a peeping Tom, when she’s the one who has invaded Miller’s apartment in the middle of the night. Is she going to hand me his card, too, and tell me to keep it safe? Is she going to offer a share? After everything, I might skin her alive.
‘What?’ Miller’s voice tenses my shoulders further.
‘You didn’t say you had company, darling.’
‘Company?’ He sounds confused and, knowing I’m completely rumbled, I back up and turn to face the music, showing my face just as Miller looks around to see what’s captured his guest’s attention. ‘Livy.’ His chair scrapes across the marble floor as he stands hastily.
I feel awkward and stupid, standing in a blanket with my hair all over my face and my bare feet shifting nervously.
Miller looks edgy, which isn’t surprising, but the woman in his kitchen looks interested as she relaxes back in her chair and holds her wine glass to her deep-red lips. ‘So we’re entertaining at home now?’ she purrs.
Miller ignores her question and approaches me quickly, turning me in his arms and pushing me gently from the kitchen. ‘Let me put you in bed,’ he whispers.
‘Is she one of them?’ I ask, letting him lead me away. I already know she is. I can tell by the air of superiority surrounding her confident persona and her designer clothes.
‘Yes,’ he answers tightly. ‘I’ll get rid of her and come and join you.’
‘Why is she here?’
‘Because she takes liberties.’
‘She has,’ I agree.
‘Darling!’ Her cocky, self-assured voice has the same effect as the last time one of Miller’s clients spoke. I tense under Miller’s hold, and he tenses, too. ‘Don’t hide her away for my benefit.’
‘I’m not hiding her,’ he spits over his shoulder, striding on. ‘I’ll be back in a minute, Sophia.’