The word I want to say nearly slips past my lips, but there’s so much that needs to be spoken about. Too much I fear for any of this to ever be right. I’m pulled down to my knees and smothered by his lush, soft lips. The familiar comfort saturates my senses. ‘Miller.’ I break away and hold him at arm’s length. ‘You think it’s that easy?’
His stunning brow furrows deeply as he scans my face. ‘Overthinking.’
I can’t stop my eyes from rolling at his feeble retort. ‘We should talk.’
‘Okay. Let’s talk now,’ he pushes.
I feel frustration starting to take hold again. ‘I need time to think.’
‘People overthink things, Livy. I’ve told you that before.’
He must realise what he’s saying. He’s a smart man. ‘And make big deals of small deals?’ I ask, a light edge of sarcasm lacing my tone.
‘There’s no need for insolence.’
I sigh. ‘I’ve told you before, Miller Hart. With you there is.’
‘How much time?’ He has no counter for that.
‘I don’t know. I’ve never been in a relationship, and I wanted one with you. Then I found out you f**k women for a living!’
‘Livy!’ he yells. ‘Please, don’t be so crass!’
‘I’m sorry. Did I hurt your feelings?’
I expect a scowl but get an even tone and straight face. ‘What the hell has happened to my sweet girl?’ His eyebrows rise, raising my hackles. ‘Getting drunk, offering yourself to other men.’
‘You happened!’ Yes, I got drunk, but only to dull the pain that he’s caused.
‘I don’t want anyone else to taste you.’
‘I feel the same!’ I yell, making him jump before he snarls. His lack of retort should surprise me but it doesn’t. It worries me. But something springs to mind. ‘I saw the newspaper.’
His hostility is sucked up in a second. Now he looks downright uncomfortable, and he isn’t jumping to his defence, confirming my suspicions. Diana Low didn’t take it upon herself to change that headline. Miller told her to.
The sound of pots and pans clanging downstairs distracts me, making my head drop back on a moan of frustration. ‘What have you told Nan?’ I need to clarify this because she’s going to be on me like a vulture the second Miller leaves.
‘Just that we had words, that you misunderstood a woman I had a meeting with as more than the business associate she was.’ A sharp crack spikes in my neck when my head snaps back up. He shrugs and drops his arse to his heels. ‘What else should I have said?’
No answer to that is coming to me. I should be grateful for his quick thinking, but the audacity of his lie to my dear grandmother halts any gratitude. ‘I’ll call you,’ I breathe.
‘What do you mean, you’ll call me?’ His displeasure is obvious. ‘And you have no phone!’
‘You’ve been in another country with another woman.’ I drag myself to my feet, feeling more exhausted than ever before.
‘Livy, I didn’t sleep with her. I’ve not slept with anyone since I met you, I swear.’
I should be relieved, but I’m not. I’m completely shocked. ‘No one?’
‘No, no one.’
‘Not a soul?’ He’s an escort. I’ve seen him with women. He’s been away . . .
His eyes are smiling. ‘No matter how you ask, the answer will still be no. Not a soul.’
‘So what were you doing in Madrid? And that woman at Quaglino’s?’
‘Come and sit.’ He stands and starts pulling me to the bed, but I doggedly shake him off.
‘No.’ I walk over to my bedroom door and pull it open. Nothing he can say will fix this mess, and even if he finds any soothing words, he will still be an escort with some awful tactics. I need to listen to William.
He makes no attempt to leave my bedroom, his beautiful mind obviously racing. ‘I’ll take you for dinner, and you can’t refuse because it’s rude to decline a gentleman an offer to wine and dine you.’ He nods his approval at his own words. ‘Ask your grandmother.’
‘Next week,’ I suggest in an attempt to get him out before I cave, wondering if I’ll ever be ready to take him on. I don’t know where he’s found the idea that I hold the strength I need to help him.
His eyes widen slightly, but he maintains his composure. ‘Next week? No, I’m afraid not. Tonight. I’m taking you to dinner tonight.’
‘Tomorrow,’ I fire back unconsciously, stunning myself.
‘Tomorrow?’ he asks, clearly mentally calculating how many hours that is before sighing heavily. ‘Promise.’ His lips move slowly. ‘Promise me.’
‘I promise,’ I whisper, drawn to his mouth, thinking it can make everything better.
‘Thank you.’ His tall, crumpled form approaches me and stops at the doorway. ‘Can I kiss you?’ His manners shock me. He doesn’t usually care for them in situations like this.
I shake my head, knowing I’ll be blindsided and undoubtedly end up on the bed beneath him.
‘As you wish.’ He’s full to the brim with aggravation. ‘For now I’ll respect your request, but I won’t for much longer,’ he warns, moodily stomping in his expensive shoes down the hallway. ‘Tomorrow,’ he affirms as he disappears down the stairs.
I shut the door, feeling relieved, lost and proud all at once.
But I still want Miller Hart.