Ten
As Keir pushes me into the back seat of his limousine, I try to tell my stupid heart to stop its frantic beating. My heart is racing double time as I stare at Keir, the handsome billionaire that I just spent the entire night with.
He is all but a stranger to me.
My one and only one-night stand.
That was before I found out that he’s a liar.
A liar who hasa wife.
And that was before a journalist popped up outside Keir’s hotel, waving around a flash drive that he claimed was evidence of our affair.
Shortly thereafter, the blackmailer was killed in a hit and run, right before our eyes.
I can see it all now, his black-red blood seeping away onto the cement around his head. His eyes, still open, looking heavenward, his mouth stretched open in a slightly shocked expression.
I saw himdie.
…and then I let Keir sweep me away, his strong arms around me as I tried to make sense of what I had just seen.
Now I’m disgusted with myself… but not as repulsed as I am by Keir. I have to try to talk some sense into him, to make him see reason.
I turn toward him, clasping and unclasping my hands.
“Keir, you don’t need me to stay with you. You can figure out whatever you need to without me ever being involved.”
Keir squints out his limousine window. “I don’t think so, Ella. It’s best to keep you close. Besides, you aren’t missing out on anything. It’s not as if you have to be here to dance in the next ballet production.”
My cheeks feel hot. I toss my head and lift my chin.
“Not that it is any of your business, but I haven’t been declared permanently injured. The diagnosis is probably coming, but the doctor hasn’t decided yet.”
His eyes tighten. “From what I understand, it’s only a matter of filling out the paperwork.”
I give him side eye. “You’re a real asshole.”
“Tell me something I haven’t heard a million times before.”
“Even if I agreed to this?—”
“I’m not really asking.”
“Even if I agreed to this,” I say, loudly enough to drown out his voice. “Which I haven’t. We couldn’t drive straight to the airport. I need to pack a bag. I need a toothbrush, I need clean underwear, I need?—”
Keir flicks his fingertips like he’s too busy to listen to the rest of my statement.
“Whatever you need will be provided. All you have to do is ask.”
My face is so flushed but I am determined to stick it out. “You can’t replace my birth control, my tampons, special hair products, or my wigs.”
“Wigs?” he looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “What do you need wigs for? Your hair is perfectly fine.”
My dark hair is long and blown out, which took over three hours to do this week. I run my hand through my hair and purse my lips.
“You don’t know anything about it, because you’re a man. But I put a ton of time and energy into getting my hair to look… how did you put it? ‘Perfectly fine’.”
He shifts in his seat and runs his fingers over his tie. “If I agree to take you home to pack, you’ll come with me to Scotland with no more argument. Is that what you’re saying?”
