I snap my mother’s journal shut and toss it onto the couch next to me, annoyed with myself. Why am I putting myself through this again? Nothing I’ll find could possibly make me feel better. I remember William once saying that she wrote this journal to torture him. And amid my own self-pity, I feel a little bit of sympathy for the man who’s currently adding to my misery. She really was a wicked woman.
Plumping one of Nan’s frilly cushions, I rest my head back, close my eyes, and try my damn hardest to blank my mind and relax. My hardest isn’t enough, but I’m distracted when I hear someone come through the front door, then urgent footsteps approaching down the hall. Even before I open my eyes, I can picture the expensive leather shoes and the bespoke suit. Someone has his armour back.
Sure enough, there’s Miller – in all his suited glory – standing on the threshold of the lounge. His dark waves are in disarray and despite his impassive face, his piercing blue eyes harbour fear.
‘You bought more suits,’ I state quietly, remaining reclined on the couch, regardless of the fact that I’m desperately craving his attention and touch.
His hand rakes through his hair, pulling the wayward wave off his forehead, and he sighs his relief. ‘Just a few.’
Just a few? I bet he’s replaced each and every one of the masks that I shredded.
‘Del gave my job to someone else.’
I see him sag. He didn’t think it appropriate for me to be working in a cafe, yet I know for sure he would never have forced me to stop. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault.’
He strides forward until he’s towering over me, his hands resting lightly in his trouser pockets. ‘I was worried about you.’
‘I’m a big girl, Miller.’
‘You’re also my possession.’
‘And I’m also a person with a mind of my own.’
He fails to prevent his lips from pursing in mild annoyance. ‘Yes, a mind that overthinks, and not too clearly right now, either.’ He crouches by the sofa next to me. ‘Tell me your troubles, sweet girl.’
‘You mean aside from the fact that someone tried to mow me down today?’
His eyes flash danger as his jaw sets, and I think for a moment that he might put it down to my lack of attention. But he doesn’t speak, telling me everything I need to know.
‘Everything.’ I don’t hesitate to go on. ‘Everything is wrong. William, Nan, Gregory, my job.’
‘Me,’ he breathes, reaching for my cheek. The warmth of his skin on mine has my eyes closing and my face nuzzling into his touch. ‘Don’t give up on me, Olivia. I beg you.’
My chin trembles and I take his hand and tug my demand for his thing. He doesn’t deny me, even though he’s kitted from top to toe in the finest clothes money can buy, and he’s only just bought them. His warm body comes down on mine and the softness of his lips finds my neck. I don’t need to affirm my promise with words, so I let my body do the talking and cling to him everywhere.
I find that peace.
I find the serenity.
I find a familiar deep comfort that can be found nowhere else. Miller wreaks havoc on my mind, body, and heart. And he chases it away just as well.
We’re still in the same position an hour later. We’ve not spoken, just happy to be together. It’s dusk. Miller’s new three-piece suit must be a crumpled mess, my hair has been twisted into various knots, and my arms have drained of blood, leaving pins and needles prickling at my skin.
‘Are you hungry?’ he asks into my hair, and I shake my head. ‘Have you eaten today?’
‘Yes,’ I lie. I’m not up for food, my stomach won’t take it, and if he tries to force-feed me, I might shoot him down with my waning sass.
He pushes himself up until he’s braced on his forearms, gazing down on me. ‘I’m going to put something casual on.’
‘You mean you’re going to put your shorts on.’
His eyes twinkle, his lips twitching. ‘I’m going to make you feel comfortable.’
‘I’m already comfortable.’ My mind is invaded by images of a perfect bare chest on that one night. One night that has evolved into one lifetime. The one night when I thought I’d only get twenty-four hours but hoped for more. Even now, amid this nightmare, I don’t regret accepting Miller’s offer.
‘You may be, but my new suit isn’t.’ A disgruntled look is thrown down his torso as he lifts his body from mine. ‘I’ll be quick. And I want you naked when I get back.’
I offer a demure smile as he backs out of the room, his eyes flicking to my figure in a silent prompt. His fiery gaze virtually burns the material from my body and the internal fizzing transforms into full-on scorching fire bolts. Then he’s gone, leaving me worked up and with nothing to do other than as I’m bid, so I slowly strip down.
By the time I’ve cast my clothes aside, pulled the woollen throw down over me, and flicked the TV on, Miller is back, except he hasn’t got his shorts on. He has nothing on. My appreciative eyes are riveted, my body aching for his attention. He stands before me, his strong legs slightly spread, his eyes lowered. His beauty defies the imaginable. He’s the finest of masterpieces. He’s incomparable. He’s my possession.