Present Day
I can’t stop sucking my swollen lips into my mouth. They tingle, and I can still taste Logan. I close my eyes because I want to savour him for as long as I can. I don’t know when I’m going to see him again, and right now, my body is thrumming to learn what he meant when he said this was the beginning. The attraction and desire have always been there; I just felt I had too much to lose, and I wasn’t sure that I wouldn’t just freak at the first real intimate contact. I just didn’t think my mind would ever let my body just feel without some sort of hideous recall. His touch was beyond intimate. That kiss was full-on feral and off the charts scorching hot. My body responded like it never has, well, not since…
“Penny for them?” Atticus’s deep gravelly voice travels the length of the stretch limo. The silence was palpable but preferable to speaking. I don’t trust myself when I can feel my emotions are already frayed, because this is Atticus and a riot of God knows what because of Logan. The limousine carrying us across the city is huge, and I am wedged on the opposite end of the bench from him. Atticus is lounging along the rear seat, his long legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles. His suit barely has a wrinkle, and the only concession to him being an off-duty CEO is that his navy silk tie is loose, and his top button is open. One arm rests along the back, and his long fingers are tapping out a beat that, when I close my eyes, I can feel my own heart is matching the steady rhythm.
I tucked myself at the farthest edge of the bench as soon as I got in, turned my back on Atticus, and have stared out of the window the entire time the car has crawled like a luxurious snail across the city. Taking me away from my home, my safety, from Logan. However, it’s also taking me to where I need to be. He coughs too loudly and manages to infuse the sound with his obvious irritation. I snap my head around, narrow my gaze, and pinch my lips into a tight humourless smile.
“You sure, Atticus? Because according to the charges you brought against me, shouldn’t you be asking for pounds, lots and lots of pounds?” He barks out a flat laugh and folds his lean body over so his elbows are resting on his knees, his fingertips pointed and pressed together under his chin. His crystal blue eyes couldn’t be any darker and still retain their captivating colour, and I find myself struggling to swallow. All the time he holds my gaze with such intensity, I can feel my heart squeeze painfully with the memory of him, of us.
“You did always know how to make me laugh, Tia, but this isn’t fucking funny.” His harsh tone pulls me back to the stark reality, and his scowl just adds to the fury dancing across his features. His jaw is clenched, and he drags his hand roughly through his hair, pulling the ice blond strands free from his eyes, his gaze staring right through me when he speaks. “I could lose the company if—” He snaps his mouth shut just as I interrupt.
“No, you’re damn right!” My voice is pitched high as, with considerable effort, I try and calm my rocketing rage. It’s bubbling in the pit of my stomach like molten acid, eroding my resolve from the inside, and I’m not sure how the hell I am going to last this car journey, let alone six months. I let out a calming breath, losing the hysterical edge but keeping all the animosity and hatred. “It isn’t remotely funny, and I hope you do lose the company.” I watch his eyes narrow and his back straighten. His lips curl slowly with misunderstanding, as if my words were an actual confession of the theft. He is so damn certain of my guilt, it turns my already fragile stomach. I sniff back an acrid laugh and continue to speak.
He slumps back when I fail to elaborate and perhaps give him what he was anticipating: a full confession. As if. “I hope you lose everything and more. Maybe losing something important to you will hit you as hard as losing six years of my life, my future, and losing you, hurt me.” I internally curse and shake my head that I foolishly let that last part out. Not that I think he gives a shit, and I don’t need to hide the truth from him, but it’s still so damn raw. He didn’t just hurt me with his betrayal, he destroyed me, and moreover, he made me who I am today. He needs to know the damage he’s done, one way or my way. “But then you weren’t mine to lose, were you?” My voice drops, and the silence once again cloaks the plush interior of the limousine. The purr of the engine ticking over is the only sound as the beast of a car rolls slowly to our destination. I manage to stop myself from scoffing when the smooth words fall from his perfect lips.
“I was always yours.” His voice is barely audible, low and filled with torment. My heart jacks in my chest. It’s so very desperate to hear those words that I want to tear it out with my bare hands. I smile with as much insincerity as I can muster and ask.
“How is Misty?” He reels in his seat like I have spit in his face; even from this distance my words were a direct and surprising hit.
“I don’t know.” He dips his eyes, for the first time breaking the contact and shifting with obvious awkwardness.
“Open marriage?” I tip my head with playful curiosity. Not that I’m particularly interested, though I do like that this is causing him some considerable discomfort.
“Divorced?” I probe, poking my finger in the sore spot and relishing the recoil. I have to shake myself again. None of this matters.
“You know what? I really don’t care.” I sniff.
“I don’t believe that.” His derisive tone matches the accusatory quirk of his pale brow.
“That’s because you have an ego the size of Jupiter, but trust me, Atticus, now you’re just somebody that I used to know.” I sing the lyric that should be a perfect fit for my situation, but, unnervingly, it sounds hollow to my own ears.
“Cute, now sing me another, how about “Money for Nothing”, “Guilt”. No, make that “Wicked Game”, perhaps?”
He’s quick with his list of suitable comebacks, but I’m losing what little fire I have. I can feel his nearness affecting me, and he was always so good at getting me to engage, even when I really didn’t want to. Now it’s no different, except this time, I can’t risk engaging on any level; there’s just too much at stake.
“Let’s just get this next twelve months over with, so I can get back to my boyfriend,” I reply, my tone a forced attempt to indicate that I’m bored with this conversation. I turn away from him, but he slides up the bench and lays his hand on my knee. I twist sharply at the contact. It feels like a high voltage jolt of electricity, and he removes his hand at my glare, but the damage is done. Shit, this is bad.
“You said he wasn’t your boyfriend.”
“He wasn’t, but I think that kiss changed things, don’t you?” I try and shuffle farther away, only I am already squished as far from him as I can get. He’s just so damn close, all I can feel is him. He might not be touching me, but there’s not a cell in my body that doesn’t feel him.
“You think one kiss would change things? Interesting.” His eyes darken, and I can see his fingers tap out a pattern on his thigh, restless, for what I can’t quite figure. Mercurial is the best fit for his gaze, which dramatically changes from a ‘destroy the bitch’ scowl, to a ‘devour the bitch’ incendiary stare.
“It wasn’t just a kiss though, was it? It was the kiss.” I drag my tongue over my bottom lip and can feel the tingle as fresh as if Logan’s lips were still pressed to mine.
“Would one kiss change us, princess?” His voice drops to a low rumble, and he sounds like he’s growling out the words. I can feel the hairs on my neck stand at attention. I just pray my prickly exterior is giving none of this away. The last thing he needs is more ammunition in his arsenal. I’m barely hanging on as it is. I clip out in my best curt tone.
“There is no us, Cass.”
“There is only us, Tia.” His retort is instant and sounds very much like a threat. I try and hide the effort it takes to swallow the thick feeling in my throat. He leans forward, his tall body looming perilously close, and instead of holding my ground, I panic and slide like water off the bench and scrabble to the other end of the car. He chuckles, a deep and throaty sound that helps me to regain my focus and a little of my anger. At this precise moment, I grab it like a lifeline.
“You know, Atticus, if I had your money, I would hand it over immediately, just so you could stop all this bullshit,” I snap, straightening myself and pulling my satchel across my lap as some sort of barrier. His eyes follow the movement and crease with amusement. I don’t know who I hate more right now—me for underestimating this whole reunion and not hiding my feelings, or him for just being him. I fix my eyes on his and steel myself to not blink.
Him, it’s definitely him I hate more. “If you cared for me you never would’ve left me to rot. You showed your true self, Cass, and you bleed the Kruse family colours through and through. If you think pretending there is something inextricable between us…some soul deep connection you think I’m still yearning for, then you’re an idiot and a bigger arsehole than I pegged you for. And don’t misunderstand me, I think you’re the fucking king when it comes to arseholes.”
“You got one thing right, princess, I’m the fucking king, and I want my fucking crown jewels back,” he states, deadly serious and with no emotion. His tone is perfectly calm, and his eyes are dark, deep pools of icy emptiness. I shiver and pull my satchel a little closer, my heart hammering so loudly in my chest, I swear it’s the only thing one can hear in the silence of the car. He holds my gaze with such intensity, I know I’m dancing with the devil once more, balanced on a precipice. He broke me, betrayed me, but I can’t escape the fact that when I look at him, I see the boy I loved with all my heart, soul deep and so sure… and I wasn’t expecting that.
“This topic of conversation will never get boring, because the truth rarely does. I don’t have your money.” I ignore my troubling thoughts and repeat the sentence for the hundredth time.
“You’re lying.”
“Fine, I’m lying, but I still don’t have your money,” I quip.
“Now, we’re getting somewhere.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, in the space of this short journey you’ve admitted you’re a liar, and that one kiss will change everything. Just imagine what I will coax from you in the coming months.” He drags his bottom lip in between his teeth, and I want to shiver again. The sound of the stubble scratching sends a ripple of goosebumps across my skin. I clench my jaw tight and turn my head away, not trusting what will come out of my mouth next. It’s bad enough I can’t hide my physical reactions; the last thing I need is to let my unfiltered mouth off its leash.
“Probably wise not to answer, princess, I’d be pretty disappointed if you don’t at the very least give me a challenge.” He laughs, and I snap my head around to face him. I fire him a look that I wish could flay the skin from his bones like I’m silently willing. He has managed to push nearly all my buttons in the space of one car ride. Still, this journey has at least made one thing very clear. I need to keep my distance.
We cross the Thames over Blackfriars Bridge, and I peek up at the newly completed building, sleek and futuristic, juxtaposed next to the tired and dated Coat and Badge pub right on the water’s edge. The limo pulls into the basement car park, and my heart kicks up a gear.
This is really happening.
Atticus goes to lift my case from the car but holds his hands up in surrender when I snap,
“Touch me or anything of mine, and I’ll end you,” I practically snarl and bare my teeth. Since indifference didn’t work, attack seems to be my go-to tactic at keeping distance.
“Whoa! Nice over-reaction there, Tia. I was just going to carry your case because it looks heavy. I wasn’t exactly sticking the tip inside somewhere not welcome, now, was I?” His tone is light and joking, his brows wiggle playfully, and I feel the urge to snicker. Shit.
“I’d like to see you try.” I try to keep the hostility in my tone, but it fails because my mouth is being pulled in an involuntary grin. Double shit.
“Later. Let me show you to your room first. There’s plenty of time for fun…twelve months, in fact.” He is out of the car before I can retort, not that I think I could do any more damage than I already have, so much for hostile captive. That remark and his utter arrogance has kind of left me speechless. I watch him stride off, his heavy footsteps echoing off the concrete cave of the underground car park.
“Would you like me to take that up for you, Miss?” That voice is so deep, it sounds like it’s been put through one of those Darth Vader voice changers. I jump and spin round, half expecting to see James Earl Jones.
“Shit! Sorry, what? Oh, no, I’m fine. I didn’t actually see you there.” The man in question pulls together bushy, dark, and angry looking brows. He must be six feet tall and almost as wide. The seams on his chauffeur uniform are stretched to breaking with the size of bulk and muscle underneath, yet he was silent the whole time and standing right behind me. I place my hand on my heart, because it’s hammering like a jackrabbit, and I’m not sure if it’s from the fright of this stealthy giant or my most recent encounter with Cass. Who am I kidding? “You’re really quiet for such a big guy.”
“It’s my job to stay in the shadows.” A slow grimace spreads across his face, and I have to stop myself from stepping away. He’s all kinds of terrifying, and I don’t think he’s even trying. In fact, I think the opposite. I force a friendly smile to try and encourage this softer side.
“Seen and not heard, hmm?” I ask in a light engaging tone; however, he stares back, searching my face and making me tremble for all the wrong reasons. My smile freezes on my face.
“You better move; Mr Kruse doesn’t like to be kept waiting. You can’t go up without him.” He nods in the direction of the fading footsteps. “It’s the forty-first floor, and the penthouse has the private lift, so you can’t use it unless you are with him.” I snort, and I know he isn’t joking. Judging by the scowl he is boring right through me, if he has a sense of humour, it must be buried so deep inside the mountain of muscle it’s just never going to see the light of day, at least not on my watch.
“Oh trust me, I’m in no rush.” His brow arches high, and the break in his impassive expression makes me bold enough I venture another question. “What’s your name?” Steely silence and narrow eyes are my answer, but I persevere. I know I’m on my own here, and I have a feeling I need to start making friends regardless of how impossible a task.
“I’m Tia.”
“Oh, I know who you are.” He snaps his jaw tight and I’m not sure how he could look scarier, but the flash of anger in his eyes brings a thick lump to my throat that won’t budge no matter how much I swallow. I manage to choke out a shocked whisper.
“You do?”
“That was inappropriate.” He instantly stiffens, his eyes wide and flicking over to where Cass had disappeared.
“It was intriguing, but not inappropriate. So he’s mentioned me, then?” I shake my head and try to probe for more.
“Would you like me to take the case?” It’s like some invisible steel doors have just slammed between us. His face is implacable, and I know this conversation is now dead. Shame.
“No, it’s okay. Thanks anyway.” I give a light shrug and let out a heavy breath. “You know, I feel a little nervous,” I mutter, and I only realise I’ve said it out loud when he responds.
“That would make both of you, then.”