Denied (One Night #2)

‘The woman in Madrid?’


‘I didn’t sleep with her.’

‘Then why did you go?’

‘Prior obligation.’ He’s impassive and sharp, yet strangely I believe him. But it’s not making any of this easier to deal with.

‘May I use your loo?’ I ask, standing from the table, his gaze rising with me.

‘Once you’ve answered my question. Is there hope?’

‘I don’t have an answer yet,’ I lie, placing my napkin on my chair.

‘Might you have once you’ve visited the bathroom?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Don’t overthink, Olivia.’

‘I’d say that was impossible after what you’ve presented me with, wouldn’t you agree?’ I’m being yanked in two directions, wanting to listen to William because I know he’s definitely right and wanting to trust my heart because maybe, just maybe, I can help Miller. But a definitely should always win over a maybe. The confliction is too much. It’s tearing me apart.

He watches me carefully. Nervously. ‘You’re leaving, aren’t you?’

‘I’ve asked my questions. I never said I’d stay once you answered them. And I never said I’d like or accept the answers.’ The definitely wins. William wins. I leave the kitchen hastily to escape the intensity that he’s exuding.

‘Olivia!’

Swinging the front door open, I dash from his apartment, knowing he’ll never allow me to leave without a fight. My troubled mind only just allows me to register my safest route from his building. I head straight for the lift. My heart is thumping chaotically, my breathing panicked and frenzied as I bash the call button.

‘Olivia, don’t get in that lift, please!’ His charging footsteps have me repeatedly smacking the metal button and cursing while I wait for what seems like decades for the doors to slide open. ‘Fuck! Olivia!’

I dive in, smack the button for the ground floor, and push myself up against the far wall. I’m being cruel, but desperation is overriding any guilt I’m feeling for using this weakness against him.

I knew he’d make it in time, but I still jump when his arm appears and crashes against the doors, pulling them open. His brow is a sheen of sweat, his eyes wide with fear. ‘Get out!’ he yells, his broad shoulders heaving.

I shake my head. ‘No.’

His jaw looks set to shatter from tenseness. ‘Get out of the f**king lift!’

I keep quiet, pushing myself further into the wall. He’s fuming mad, frighteningly so.

‘How could you do this?’ he pants, yanking the door open when it tries to close again. ‘How?’

‘I can’t be with you, Miller.’ My voice is barely audible over his laboured breathing and my clattering heart.

‘Livy, I beg you, don’t do this to me again.’ He’s beginning to shake, his eyes darting continuously from me to the inside of the elevator.

‘I can’t forget that man.’ I reach out and press the button again.

‘Fuck!’ He releases the doors and they start to close. ‘I refuse to give up, Olivia.’ Blue eyes glaze over, his expression straightening. ‘I won’t lose.’

‘You’ve already lost,’ I murmur as his face disappears.

Chapter Eleven

I don’t know how I’ve ended up here. Probably to reinforce my decision. Seeing the four-poster bed, the regal room, and the images of me restrained is helping steel my resolve. But it’s also magnifying the pain. I’m standing in the middle of the hotel room, gazing around, torturing myself further and praying for some strength to see me through. Run away. Disappear for ever. I can see no other way. My skin is prickling and cold. My eyes are sore with tears. The plans I started to make so many times need to be completed and fulfilled now. I need to go away for a while, put space between us and hope the saying ‘out of sight, out of mind’ is true. For both of us.

‘Why did you come here?’ The question filters through the rush of blood that’s distorting my hearing, dragging me back into the chilly room.

‘To help convince myself that I’m doing the right thing.’

‘Does it feel right?’

‘No,’ I admit. Nothing feels right. It’s all so very wrong. I hear the door click shut, snapping me from my daydream, and I swing around to find a mess of a man, his hair wild, his suit crumpled. But his blue eyes are relieved.

‘I won’t lose,’ he says, resting his hands in his pocket. ‘I can’t lose, Olivia.’

Tears begin to trickle down my cheeks as I stand before him, defeated.

Conquered.