“You smell good.” Better than good. A delight to my every sense. Better than the first rain of the season, the last bite of a decadent chocolate cake. My poison and my antidote.
Hunter exhales sharply, splaying his hands on the elevator wall and lowering his head. “I’m here to talk.”
“Are you?” I know why he’s here. He doesn’t come to me for the pleasure of my company. Trailing my fingertips down his side, he twitches underneath my touch. I could do more right now. I could strip him bare and fuck him here in this elevator. He wouldn’t stop me.
Taking a step back, I give him breathing room. “Then come in, Hunter. You’re always welcome.”
Miles gives me a look that contradicts the words, but that doesn’t make them less true. No matter if he wants to throw Hunter out on his ass, he won’t, because I don’t want him to. It’s that simple. Hunter has never been here, for his own reasons, and none of them have anything to do with him not being welcome here. If he wanted to come back to me, I would open my arms for him without question.
Sometimes in my dreams, he does.
He follows us wordlessly into the apartment, sweeping over the room and taking it all in. It’s a simple design, with an open plan that fits the living room, the kitchen and a dining area. Too big for one person, too big even for two. Modern black-and-white matching décor that somehow makes the space even more barren. Beautiful but soulless, it was put together by a designer I hired years ago. It looks, and very much is, a wasteful expense, all money and no heart. It suits me.
Miles and I barely take up the space, though I much prefer when he’s here. It feels a little less cold, a little less empty. Though most would scoff at the idea that Miles makes any place warmer, based on his disposition. He thaws for me, and me alone, in his own way.
“Drink?”
Hunter’s green eyes meet mine. They’re darker, the lingering effects of my touch. They brush over me like a physical caress. “Sure.”
Miles is already moving to the fridge, always anticipating what I need. Hunter doesn’t look away from him as he prepares the drinks—glasses of peach-infused sparkling water, with ice—and the intensity of it adds tension to the room, like an erotic dance between them. I wonder what would have happened if they’d had this connection all those years ago. Would things have turned out differently? I highly doubt it, though I can wonder.
Hunter accepts the glass with a nod of thanks, stares at it, and then slides it onto the counter, shoving a hand into his pocket. “I want to know what you’ve found out, and I won’t be excluded again. I don’t advise that you try it, or our acquaintance is going to get a lot more unpleasant.”
Miles shrugs off his jacket, drapes it over the back of the kitchen stool, and rolls his sleeves to his elbows, securing them in place. “We don’t require your assistance at this stage.”
“I couldn’t care less about what you ‘require.’ This ismybusiness, not yours. I didn’t come to you for help.” He steps closer to Miles, tipping his head up a fraction, lips flat. “Next time, you’re taking me with you, and that’s final.”
“Is it?” Miles asks lightly. His eyes flick to me, a silent question on his face.
“Don’t look at him, look at me,” Hunter snarls. “I’m not askinghimfor permission and neither are you. Next time, you’re taking me with you,” he repeats. “And that’s the end of the conversation. Are we clear?”
Hunter in full glory like this is intoxicating, like a fine-aging whiskey. It never fails to get me from zero to one hundred in mere seconds. His fierce temper and take-no-shit attitude are my kryptonite. I allow no one else to speak to me the way he does.
Miles tips his head a fraction to the side, studying Hunter’s face. “Crystal,” he murmurs eventually. “Anything else?”
“Not right now.” He turns, facing me, his shoulder brushing Miles’ chest. “You refused me because you wanted me to find you. Congratulations, you got what you wanted. Now tell me what you’ve found out.”
I take a sip of my drink before answering him, not looking away as the coolness slides down my throat. “Nothing new since you spoke to Miles last. Casey is nowhere to be seen. We have contacts on the lookout for him, and some of my men are scouring the city as we speak, in his local haunts, so to speak. We’ll find him.” There aren’t many people in the world that I trust—some infinitely more than others—but the ones that I do won’t disappoint me. They won’t leave a stone unturned, especially not when it concerns Hunter.
Hunter slides a thumb up the side of his glass, catching condensation. “I received a phone call from an unknown number today. Six traced it to Olivia’s primary school.”
My blood runs cold. “A staff member, perhaps?” They would know Hunter, though how they would know his patterns and the flower deliveries is another question entirely. One I know I won’t like the answer to. “Have you taken one of them home, Hunter?”
“I’m not answering that,” Hunter says flatly. “It’s not anyone—staff or parent—at the school. I believe that it was simply them letting me know that they are aware of my movements and my daughter.”
“You can’t be positive of that. Olivia will have to be transferred to a new school.”
Hunter’s hand flattens on the counter. “Absolutely not.”
“I wasn’t asking, Hunter. Are you really willing to risk her safety like that?” I certainly am not. Not either of them. Until we know who’s behind this, there won’t be any chances taken with either of them.
Hunter’s eyes darken, mouth turning down. “There is no risk,” he says firmly. “She is delivered and picked up by me or those Itrust with my life—and hers. Even if that weren’t the case? It’s not up to you. She’s my responsibility, my daughter, and I decide where she goes to school and why.”
I shouldn’t be delighted by his anger or the fierce way that he’s looking at me, but it makes my blood sing, and my senses come alive. “Our daughter.”
His fingers clench on the marble, and then he’s stalking me, lips curved in a scowl. “Mydaughter. You’ve never once had any interest in her. You don’t know her favourite colour, or her favourite food, or the names of her friends. You don’t get to start acting like she matters now simply because you have a need to be in control and can’t accept that I don’t answer to you.”
“I gave her to you because it was what you wanted, Hunter.” Children were never in the cards for me. Not then, not now. She exists because of Hunter and my need to give him everything that he wants.
