Page 22 of Hidden With You

I lift my head, seething. “I do want you to be invested. I need you to be invested. Do you think I want some anonymous rent-a-cop watching over me? Someone I don’t know? I want someone who at least likes me. Someone who finds me interesting and actually likes that I’m on this planet. But no way in hell would I pull an elaborate scam to get you here in the first place.”

“Zel—”

I hold up a hand and continue on, not even pausing for breath. “I wanted you last night because you’re hot. Because you caught my eye and set my hormones firing. Not because of some elaborate hoax. How the hell would that even work?”

I can see his temper flaring and take a step back. He just pulls me closer, so that we’re only inches apart. “Did you do this? Did you set this up so I would end up here watching over you? Is this your retribution for me walking away? Some poor little rich girl with her psycho stalker, and I’m going to feel sorry enough to fuck you?”

My hand suddenly stings, and I realize after the fact that I’ve reached up and slapped him across the face. “Let. Go. Of. Me.”

He does, and I shove him hard as I back away. “I just told you it wasn’t, you fucking prick. How can you even think that?”

“How can I do my job and not think it? I don’t know you. I just met you. I don’t know a thing about you except that you have one hell of an imagination. And here’s the thing, Princess, Right now, I’m working for you. I’m not sleeping with you.”

I scoff. “Right now, I’m thinking that’s a good thing.”

For a moment, we only glare at each other. Finally, I feel my shoulders sag. “Did you really think that? That I could do that?”

His gaze stays hard for a moment, then his entire face seems to crumble. He sinks into one of the dining table chairs as if all the energy has been sapped from his body. “I don’t know you, Zelda. I have an impression of you, and it’s one that I like. I admire your talent and your drive. But what’s inside you? I don’t know that. And I’ve lived long enough to know that people are capable of hiding a hell of a lot of crazy behind the mask of their face.”

I want to hate him for believing that of me. For not being able to look into my heart and see the truth of me. But I can’t. He’s right. I want to believe that despite all my dark places, that the whole world knows that I’m a good person. That I radiate some magical checkmark and shiny gold star.

I’m naïve and foolish. And today, maybe I was even a little bit cruel.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “My feelings were hurt, and I overreacted. I don’t like it, but I get it.”

“Apology accepted. And for what it’s worth, I didn’t like thinking that way.”

I flash him a hint of a smile. “Well, that’s something. And for what it’s worth, I promise you, I didn’t do this. Someone is ... well, honestly, I don’t know what someone is doing. Maybe it’s just a joke. Maybe nobody wants to hurt me at all. I don’t know, but, dammit, I’m actually scared. I know it’s not a real threat in the book, but this might be, and….” I stop talking, realizing that my throat is full of tears, some of which have actually escaped down my cheeks.

I look away. It’s positively mortifying.

He comes to me, then cups the back of my head. He pulls me close, and I lean against his chest and sob. “I’m sorry,” I say when I can speak. “This isn’t like me. I don’t usually burst into tears. But I’m scared. I’m really and truly scared.”

“I know. I believe you.”

I tilt my head to look at his face. “Really?” He nods, and while he could be putting on a show to appease the possibly psychotic client, all I see is the truth there.

“Thank you,” I whisper. And then, before I can help myself, I rise onto my toes and brush my lips over his. He responds, pulling me closer, his lips parting, the kiss moving from sweet to hard and needy. I moan, wanting so badly to finish what we started in the atrium, but as my hands slide down his back to cup his ass, he pushes me away, gently but firmly.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have let that get out of control.”

“It’s okay.” I hear the plea in my voice and hate myself for it. “We both want it.”

“Maybe. But we’re not at a party anymore. I’m not just a guy you met. I’m working for you. I’m not going to sleep with you, too.”

“No matter how much you want to?”

“No matter how much I want to,” he says, acknowledging the truth.

“Well, thank you for that at least. Of course, I could just fire you, and that would fix everything.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle with amusement, which only makes him look sexier. “That would be foolish. I’m good at what I do.” He clears his throat. “And it’s not just because you’re a client.”

“You think I’m too young.”

“You are too young.”

“I’m not really twenty-three,” I say, and watch as his eyes widen. “I mean, in years I might be, but I’m older. Hell, sometimes I feel like I’m as old as dirt.”