“What gave me away?” I wonder. He was waiting for me in the van like I’d personally explained my plans.
“Your date night with Samuel.”
I frown. “I’m not following.”
He smirks and steps closer so that my breasts touch his chest, and I have to tip my head back to look at him. “You have rejected Samuel at every turn for weeks. Then, without warning, you give in? Why? Because you were planning on being gone.”
“Perhaps I like him?”
He tilts his head and trails a finger down my forehead, over my nose, across my lips, and along my throat. Goosebumps erupt on my flesh. “Erratic breathing, blown pupils, lips parted for a kiss—that’s how I know you are attracted to someone. You exhibit none of these things around Samuel.” My gaze tracks from his dark eyes to his parted lips. He closes his eyes and steps back from me, breaking our connection. “Get some sleep, Cleo. But no more lies.” He lets Duke in before glancing at me over his shoulder and closing the door behind him.
My fingers touch my lips. Was I about to kiss him? Since when did real-life men become okay? I’ve sworn off them.Fuck.I cannot be attracted to Fox Alderidge. A man like him would never want a woman like me—bruised, battered, and broken. No man would ever want the remnants of what Gideon left behind.
One month. That’s enough time to make a plan, and with the extra money, I can make it stretch to live off the grid for a year. I have to hope Gideon doesn’t catch up to me, because no matter how skillful a protector Fox Alderidge professes to be, he’s no match for a monster with no morals.
CHAPTER 21
FOX
Princess treatment is reserved for royalty.
Irefuse to sleep. She’s still a flight risk, but Cleo is not going anywhere. I wasn’t lying about my grandmother needing her support should my private life be splashed across the media, but the more fundamental truth is I like the way she brings a spark of warmth to my world. Nobody but my grandmother ever called me out on my shit, until Cleo. She’s an excellent distraction from the looming darkness. I find myself eager for the night to pass so I can experience her fire.
I keep my bedroom door open and listen carefully for signs she is trying to run again as I open my bedside table drawer and pull out the book she is reading.
The hours pass as I become absorbed in the story. Not for its stellar plot—which isn’t bad—but for the spice. This is what she dreams about? I’m not stupid. I know she’s been through something horrific, and there’s an expectation that a survivor should act in a certain way, want certain things from a sexualpartner—soft, slow, gentle. All the things I’m shit at. But if this is an indication of her desire, I can more than deliver.
I shake my head. I’m not meant to be going near any woman. But she’s here, looking like a fucking wet dream and verbally sparring with me. If I had any common sense, I’d let Samuel woo her, sweep her off her feet, and usher her into the light. My eyes skim the last chapter and I groan. Now this is all I’m going to think about the entire day.
An experiment is called for, and her reaction will determine my next move. The shower turns on in the next room and she begins singing a terrible rendition of Zombie, causing a smile to spread across my face. She’s not running. Excellent.
I get myself ready and slip out to the main house before she can catch me. Ten minutes later, she appears in the kitchen and halts. Her damp hair is piled on top of her head, she has zero makeup on, and she’s wearing a pair of jean shorts and a Hollywood Vampires band T-shirt teamed with a pair of sky-blue Crocs that have little cherry charms attached. She’s stunning when she isn’t even trying. God help the man she decides to try for—he has zero chance. “What are you doing?” she asks as Duke barges past her and gives my hand a lick.Yes, buddy, pancakes for you too.
I smirk as I turn back to the stove. “Breakfast.”
“Is what I make not good enough? You can tell me. I’m a big girl—I can take it.”
“I just bet you can,” I mutter as I flip a pancake.
“What’s that?” she snaps as my gran appears next to her.
“Ooh, he’s making pancakes. What did you do right, Cleo? Or what did he do wrong?” she asks as she slides onto the stool. I still can’t get used to the sight of her eating in such a casual manner. It’s another reason I think keeping Cleo around is good for us all.
“I didn’t do anything,” Cleo says as she approaches the refrigerator. I move in front of her, blocking her access.
“Ah, ah, ah, princess treatment today,” I say with a raised brow.
My gran snorts. “Now you really have to tell me what you did.”
Cleo throws her hands up in the air. “Nothing.”
“She chose to stay,” I declare as I plate up the pancakes and pile fresh organic blueberries on them.
“You were going to leave?” my gran says. She keeps her tone neutral, but I can tell she’s upset.
Cleo lasers a glare at me. I raise an eyebrow. It’s not like we agreed to not tell her. “I was worried I was encroaching on your family time. Fox corrected my assumptions.”
Gran’s eyes find mine and she raises a brow.Yes, yes, I scared your assistant away. But I also retrieved her before she could escape.
