Denied (One Night #2)

It’s abruptly very clear. ‘They’ll hate me.’ Cassie hates me, and she’s not even a client.

He huffs an agreeable puff of sarcastic air. Then he sinks into me with reassuring eyes. ‘I’m not sleeping with anyone else.’ He articulates the words slowly and precisely, a desperate attempt to make himself clear, and I don’t doubt for a moment that he’s telling me the truth. ‘Olivia, I’ve not tasted anyone or let anyone taste me. Tell me you believe me.’

‘I believe you.’ I don’t hesitate. My faith is profound, despite my muddle, with no evidence except Miller’s say-so. I have no explanation for why this might be, but something deep and powerful is guiding me. It’s instinct, and instinct has served me well up to this point. I’m sticking with it. ‘I believe you,’ I affirm again.

‘Thank you.’ He takes me in his arms and hugs me with the most incredible amount of relief. I’m confused and shocked. Women scorned and following me? They can predict his next move. They know he’s going to quit and they don’t want him to.

‘I have a request,’ he breathes into my neck, his hands skating every inch of my back.

‘What?’

‘Never stop loving me.’

I shake my head, wondering if he recalls making that request last night when alcohol and tiredness were consuming him, and that makes me wonder whether he recalls my reply. ‘Never.’ My confirmation is as resolute as it was before sleep took us last night, despite my short delay in delivering it.

Chapter Eighteen

Nan’s waiting on the doorstep when we pull up outside the house, arms crossed over her bosom and guarded sapphire eyes set firmly on Miller. I check for a tapping slipper as she follows our path to the house, anything to avoid the risk of meeting her gaze. She may have been understanding and compassionate on the telephone last night, but I don’t mistake that as being the end of it. We’re face to face now. There’s no escaping. She’ll be pouncing on Miller, and judging by his quiet thoughtfulness since we left his apartment, he’s fully expecting it.

His warm palm slides onto my neck as we approach and begins massaging gently, his attempt to rub the nerves out of me. He’s wasting his time. ‘Mrs Taylor,’ Miller says formally, bringing us to a stop.

‘Hmmm,’ she hums, not relenting on her threatening glare. ‘It’s past nine.’ She’s speaking to me now but still holding Miller in place with suspicious eyes. ‘You’ll be late.’

‘I’m—’

‘Olivia isn’t going to work today,’ Miller cuts me off. ‘Her boss has agreed to give her the day off.’

‘Oh, really?’ Nan asks, grey eyebrows high in surprise. I feel like I should be the one explaining, but instead I’m a spare part between these two while Miller continues to speak.

‘Yes, I’m taking her out for the day. A bit of respite and quality time together.’

I find it easy to suck back the condescending laugh that’s threatening. Miller insisted that I needed a break, and the opportunity to spend a whole day with him is rare and should be seized with both hands. But I’m not naive enough to believe that that’s the only reason.

Miller looks down at me with a little reassurance in his gaze. ‘Go and take a shower.’

‘Okay,’ I say reluctantly, knowing there’s no avoiding leaving Miller to handle Nan on his own. His insistence that I didn’t have time to shower at his apartment this morning now makes sense. It gives him the perfect opportunity to speak with Nan while I’m out of the way.

‘Go,’ he encourages me softly. ‘I’ll be here.’

I nod, nibbling on my lip, not in any rush to part company with them. In fact, I’d like to turn, run, and take Miller with me. Nan subtly cocks her head, her way of saying scoot. There’s no avoiding the inevitable, but if it wasn’t for Miller’s desire to apologise, then I wouldn’t now be taking the stairs slowly and leaving them behind to talk. I’ve given Miller the low-down on my conversation with my grandmother last night, and he smiled fondly when I relayed what Nan had told me about special love. But Nan doesn’t know the gruesome details, and it has to remain that way.

I glance over my shoulder when I reach the top of the stairs, finding them watching me, neither prepared to speak until I’m out of earshot. Nan is radiating authority and my finicky, fine Miller is oozing respect. It’s an amusing sight. ‘Chop-chop,’ Miller calls on a mild grin. He finds my worry amusing? Rolling my eyes on an exasperated sigh, I resign myself to the fact there’s nothing I can do.