CHAPTER 24
ELODIE
Idon’t know why I bothered. I really don’t. Why would I care if Caden showed a gentler side to me? Why would it make any difference to our current situation? He still looks at me like he’d love nothing more than to throttle me, and I’m leaving in a few days when I win this damn bet. That’s all. Nothing else matters. It was only because I’d slipped into a nap and woken from a horrendous nightmare that I’d found him. I’d sought anyone out after dreaming of skull tattoos and amber eyes and so much terror. It was too much to bear alone, the remnants of the dream clung to me like leeches, so after being unable to find anyone in the house, I resorted to trying the basement.
When I saw him down there, I thought we might be able to have an amicable conversation. We may have faked it at the engagement party, but I felt this weird confidence that we had found some civility. Plus, I knew what he’d done for me. I hadn’t pressed Alfie for any more answers; it was clear enough to me. That kid who had attempted to touch my face and Caden had swiftly intercepted hadn’t left the diner. I had watched when Fiz led me out. He never appeared. Nor did he when Caden and Alfie walked out, covered in blood. I had seen the look ofmurder in Caden’s eyes when he’d grabbed the guy’s arm as he reached for me. I knew what that meant. Whether he likes me or not, I’ve learned how important his whole stupid reputation is. I knew it was probably nothing to do with me, but I felt grateful, nonetheless. It was all these small things that filled me with the courage to go down to that basement. But of course, it was a waste of my time. At least that odd, infuriating and confusing interaction made me forget about the nightmare for the rest of the day. I’d achieved what I’d set out to do either way.
I avoided him for the rest of the day yesterday. Alfie brought up some dinner to Caden’s room and ate with me, which was sweet.
I’m fishing through Caden’s wardrobe after my shower this morning when the door clicks open. I whirl around, clutching the towel wrapped around my chest. I really wish they’d stop walking in here when I’m naked.
“You know,” Caden says, leaning on the doorjamb and crossing his arms as he takes me in. “I’ve never had a girl fish through my wardrobe before. No one’s had the balls.”
My freshly cleaned body breaks out in sweats. “Well, how many of those girls have you stripped of their autonomy and left them no choice?”
He licks his teeth, a ghost of a smirk dancing on his lips. He pushes off the door and stalks toward me. “Touché.” He approaches me, making no effort to hide the scan of his eyes down my naked body, hidden by nothing but a towel. “Listen.” He drags his eyes back up. “You won’t be wearing my clothes today. We’ve got a date.”
My heart jolts. “Excuse me?”
“Double date, rather. My dad and his girl.”
Right. Russell had said he wanted us to get to know each other properly. Fantastic.
“So, you’re giving me my own outfit?” Hope swells in my chest.
“Yes, Maggie’s picked something for you. She’ll bring it up now. Be ready in half hour.”
“I don’t get to choose what I wear?”
His tongue pokes into his cheek as he steps closer to me. “You really want to start this with me again? Now?” He makes a subtle look at my towel.
I gulp down, clutching the hem around my chest a little tighter. “Fine. Whatever you want,Master.”
His dark eyes sparkle with wicked delight. “Hmm, I could get used to that.” His voice takes on a deeper tone that makes my knees buckle a little.
“Well, don’t,” I say quickly. “It’s called sarcasm, darling.”
The glimmer remains in his eyes as he fixes them on mine, lifting a hand to my face. My lungs stop working.
But before he can touch me, he pulls his hand back down. Then he spins away from me, heading for the door. “Half hour.”
I fall back onto the wardrobe and run a hand down my face. Gosh, that man is overwhelming. I need another shower to wash off this fresh coat of sweat.
***
Although I didn’t get to choose the outfit myself, I begrudgingly love it. I’m still stick thin, but Maggie picked me out a dark grey pencil skirt with a white blouse which complements my lack of curves. It’s more office attire, but I guess if we’re having lunch with an aristocrat, the dress code is one and the same. I sleeked my hair back and tied it into a bun at the nape of my neck, my fingers once again used to manoeuvring a hair band.
Slowly, basic function is returning, and that alienated feeling is fading. I’m eating normally now with no trouble, Alfie says myappetite’s healthy. Plus, he always makes sure I have a packet of biscuits available at all times in the bedroom. It’s the best part of the day, when I get to my patch of floor with the blankets and there’s a fresh pack waiting for me.
Maggie didn’t give me makeup, so I’m fresh-faced, but from the recent good sleeps I’ve gotten, I’ve no longer got purple sacs smudged under my eyes and a little colour has returned to my pale skin.
I look somewhat presentable. I just hope Russell will agree. If I feel belittled around Caden, that feeling is doubled around Russell Blackwood. He’s among the rich and famous in both worlds. I don’t even want to think about where we’re going for lunch. Probably a place where a lettuce leaf costs fifty quid and sprinkled with gold dust.
Caden drives us without one comment about my outfit, not that I expected anything else. He’s got on white chinos with a navy-blue long sleeve polo shirt. I’ve never seen him in anything other than black. He looks so smart. And uncomfortable.
He fidgets as he drives, tugging on one hem or another of his clothes. Even though he’s very lean, the shirt is fitted enough to see the stretch of fabric around his toned, wiry muscles. He’s got on a fancy watch that probably cost the same amount as his car, with all the diamonds glistening and blinding me in the afternoon sun as he rests his palm on the top of the steering wheel. Long, thin fingers hanging loosely over the edge as he drives in a lackadaisical manner, which is so at odds with his stiff, jittery demeanour. The veins on the back of his hand prominent and distracting. He props his other arm on the door, twiddling away at his nose piercing. He moves onto his lip ball when we stop at a set of traffic lights.
Why is he a completely different person when it comes to his dad?
