I’m dying to find out more, but asking my former boss about his sex life or lack thereof with his former paramour seems like an overreach. Plus, I don’t want him to know just how happy I was to learn that little tidbit.
“I’m sorry, but the world already believes it.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He clicks a few buttons and scrolls through post after post of announcements of the two of us getting engaged.
I try to grab the phone, but he pulls it away with a wagging finger. “Nuh-uh. Doctor’s orders. Complete rest is the only thing that will help Emma get her brain back.”
“I’m out of the hospital, so whatever new publicist you have this week can tell the world the truth. That we’re not engaged. I’m not even your assistant now.”
I don’t know why I’m bothering to argue with him. He’s only teasing me about being his fiancée because he finds it fun to rile me up. It’s one of his favorite pastimes. He’ll forget all about it once he drops me off at my apartment and we go our separate ways.
I avoid the thought that maybe I’m continuing the argument with him because it’s one of my favorite pastimes as well. And that I don’t want to think about how I’ll feel when I’ll no longer see him every day. I might not even see him once a month. Or once a year. My heart stutters at that thought.
His expression firms, and I look away from his blue-steel gaze that pierces me despite the shadows. I concentrate instead on the road and passing buildings.
“Wait a minute, where are we going? We missed the turn.” I shift forward in my seat. “Duncan, I’m going to my apartment.”
He holds my eyes in the mirror. “Sebastian said you wanted to go to the mansion.”
“Nope. My apartment.”
“The mansion, Duncan,” Sebastian countermands.
The bodyguard’s gaze meets mine in the mirror again, then shifts to Sebastian with a small smile. “Sorry, sir. Miss Emma’s orders take precedence.” His mouth quirks wider. “I know who’s boss. Besides, you know how important consent is.”
I grin. “Thank you, Duncan. Consentisimportant.”
“I know all about consent, dammit. But I’m trying to make sure she doesn’tdie.”
“That’s the thing about actors. They’re so dramatic. The doctor said I’m fine.”
“He said you were still concussed and needed to be watched. The mansion is more comfortable. I’d be there to help. Plus, you know Marie would love to have any excuse to fuss.”
“Well, I want to go home.”
While we argue, I note Duncan has changed his course and is now heading away from Malibu.
For a minute, I second-guess my decision. It would be nice to luxuriate at Sebastian’s. But now that I’m no longer his assistant, I need to get used to the separation of not working for him, not having his estate be like my second home.
“Fine,” he says, as if deciding something. “If you want me to stay with you, then that’s what we’ll do. Even if your place sucks compared to mine,” he says. “I can rough it for a few days. I’m tough like that. It will be like the prison movie I did. Remember, I spent the night in jail to see what it was like.”
“You didnotjust compare my apartment to a prison cell,” I snap.
He shrugs, biting his lip as if to keep from laughing.
I narrow my eyes. “And you’re not staying with me.”
“Sure I am,” he says cheerily.
“There’s no place for you to sleep. I have a one-bedroom, and I had to get rid of Sadie’s daybed to make space for my office furniture.”
“I’m sure the couch is comfortable.”
“You’re bananas. You arenotsleeping on my couch.”
“Okay. Your bed. But let the record show it was your idea.” His eyes twinkle.
My traitorous heart speeds up. I’m an unwilling participant in that organ’s perfidy. I absolutely do not want him to have any effect on me.
He’s just teasing again. There’s no way Sebastian Blake, king of luxury, would sleep on my lumpy couch. I look out the window in silence, watching the scenery pass until Duncan pulls into my parking lot.
