Travis doesn’t allow me to forget my place the next few days, but there’s something new between us now. Something that started in Times Square and never did die out.

Now, after I’ve moved into his residence, his looks seem to linger on me every time he takes me to the finest restaurants in the city. His fingertips explore me with more care whenever we’re alone, stroking me to sleep after we please one another in bed. My life with him has become a seesaw on a diamond-studded playground, and when the ride is inevitably over, I don’t know where my emotions will stand.

Whenever he has to leave for the office, I’m inconsolable. Whenever he comes back, I’m giddy. I’ve never been so up and down and out of control and…

In love?

Am I?

Today I’m waiting for him to get home, spending time in his library on the laptop computer he’s given me to use. When I’m not being escorted about town, I’ve been researching colleges. Now that I won’t have to depend on scholarships, Cornell, Syracuse, Rice, and USC are at the top of my list, although I’d like to stick around New York. I tell myself it’s because I’ve grown to love it here and it has nothing to do with Travis and—

The sound of a slamming door echoes, and I sit up straight. My heart dances at the thought of seeing him. I tread quietly on my bare feet through the grand rooms, following his voice as he talks on the speakerphone in the study. The closer I get, the more I slow down.

He sounds really angry.

I wait outside the room, not wanting to bother him. But I don’t want to leave either.

I shouldn’t eavesdrop, yet here I am, doing it.

“How many robberies are there going to be before this stops?” Travis barks.

Oh no. I haven’t seen anything about more robberies after London on the news or heard anything from Travis, but the thieves are clearly still at it.

I risk a glance around the wall and into the study. Travis has his back to the door, and he’s stone cold, his hands on his hips, a slight predatory hunch to his shoulders. I pull back before he sees me.

The man on the other end of the speakerphone is pathetically apologetic. “Believe me, Mr. Star, we’re going to make sure this is the final incident. I only wish we could keep it out of the news as we have with the others, but this time—”

“This time they went too far. Not only did this break in cross a line, it caused unnecessary harm and…” He trails off, and even from out here, I can tell he’s boiling. “Something like this can never happen again.”

“I know. Along with everything else, your business is suffering.”

“After today, that’s hardly my first concern.”

There’s something in his voice that makes my heart fold into itself. Pain. Remorse. Whatever happened today, it’s beyond the pale.

But he comes back strong. “I’ve built up the security team over the last few weeks, but the thieves only seem to be challenged by that. I don’t know how many more ways they can come up with to rob my stores. And I don’t know how far they’ll go now.”

“Sir—”

“Mr. Martin, they’re getting more and more daring. Today only proves that.”

I rub my bare arms as I lean against the wall. I’m starting to get scared for Travis. Something terrible must’ve happened during this robbery.

“I understand,” the security specialist says on the phone. “Today’s word on the street is that this is some ex-military European outfit. The reason they’re so motivated is that they’ve heard about the Charity Diamond, and they’re trying to find it.”

The Charity Diamond.

I’ve heard of it before, but I don’t know the particulars. I only know it’s famous.

“Bullshit,” Travis says.

Bullshit because he actually doesn’t have this notorious diamond or that the security detail can’t stop the criminals in their search for it?

“Sir—”

“I don’t want to discuss the Charity Diamond,” he snarls. “The only words I want to hear coming out of your mouth are the ones informing me that these bastards have been caught.”

“Absolutely. But I have to be honest, Mr. Star. There’re times when I have to get a hold of you at a moment’s notice. Lately, you haven’t been answering your phone with the diligence you’ve exhibited in the past. Maybe there’s a breakdown in communication. Can we remedy that?”

I exhale, sensing Travis’s slow burn. Something tells me that I might be the reason Travis hasn’t been very attentive.

Silence weighs down the atmosphere.

“Mr. Star?” the man asks.

Travis still doesn’t say anything, then he speaks with an icy reserve that chills the air.

“I’ll do what needs to be done,” he says. “You make certain you do the same.”

I hear Travis disconnecting, and everything goes quiet. Then the shatter of a glass against a wall makes me jump back from the doorway. Adrenaline slices through me.

I want to go to him, soothe him, but I know when to leave an agitated person alone. Travis has never given me reason to think he’d be anything like my father Gary, but common sense tells me that Travis wouldn’t appreciate knowing that I was listening in. He would freeze me out instead of ever threatening me, but the thought of disappointing him makes me back away from the room.

I move toward the library on my bare feet, making no sound on the marble tile. I carefully close the library door behind me so Travis will think I didn’t hear him come home. Meanwhile, I sit in front of the computer, my heart beating in my temples.

Soon I’ll go to him. But for now, I want to know about this famous Charity Diamond.

I tap on the laptop’s keyboard, bringing up a search engine and typing in my keywords. I click on the first link, and what I read blows me away.

No wonder I’ve heard of the Charity Diamond. It’s theorized to be worth 235 million dollars.

That’s more money than I can imagine. More money than I would ever know what to do with. And someone thinks Travis has this singular jewel?

I continue to read, discovering that, once upon a time, the gem was supposedly part of a crown worn by King Henry V of England before it disappeared from historical record. Since then, legend has it that the diamond has been passed down through different generations of collectors and thieves.

I switch to other sites to triple check the information, but it’s all the same. And they all agree that nobody truly knows who has the Charity Diamond now. Unfortunately, these jewel thieves believe that Travis is in possession of it, and they’re searching high and low.

I lean back in the chair, plucking at the fabric of my white peignoir.

No matter how volatile Travis might be right now, I can’t stand the thought of leaving him in such apparent agony over more robberies or whatever terrible thing happened in one of his stores today to upset him so much.

I smooth a hand over my hair then go to the door, opening it. I walk to the study and look inside.

Travis is sitting in a leather chair facing the window, where dusk is darkening the room. He hasn’t turned on any lights, and he’s clenching a half-empty glass of brandy on the armrest. I remember the day of that first robbery, the one in London, and how his anger resembles that right now.

It was the day I distracted him with the lap dance.

He starts talking in a flat voice before even acknowledging that I’m in the room. “They really went too far today.”

“They?” I whisper, playing dumb.

“A bunch of European robbers who’ve been invading my stores. Evidently, they’re ex-military.” He takes a tense drink of his cocktail then slowly sets it back down. “They shot someone today in my Paris store.”

I take a step back, my hand to my chest. “Is your customer—?”

“Alive? Yes. Thankfully he’s a very rich man who can afford the best care, so he’s resting well. The same can’t be said for my business. It’s bleeding clients.”

I come to the front of his chair, sinking down and resting my hands on his knees. Travis’s muscles contract, and he briefly glances at me then out the window again. His gaze is enough to frost me.

“It’s my fault really,” he says. “I’ve been distracted lately.”

I remember what the security expert said. Lately, you haven’t been answering your phone with the diligence you’ve exhibited in the past...

Dread creeps up my spine and my throat goes tight, because I also remember the times when Travis would ignore his security calls, plus the day when he told me that I’m his distraction.

Travis continues. “If I’d been paying more attention, perhaps my customer wouldn’t have gotten shot. Perhaps I would’ve been a step ahead of these thieves instead of the other way around.”

My hands slip off his legs. Don’t say it, I think. Please don’t say that I’m the reason you haven’t stopped those robberies.

“It’s no one’s fault but the thieves’,” I tell him, the words sticking in my throat.

His eyes grow dark, but instead of a chill, there’s nothing but a wall there. An empty barrier that has no temperature at all.

“The thing is,” he says without emotion, “I should have seen this coming. You weren’t like the other women. Starting on that first night, you stole my attention away from what really matters, and I made the mistake of thinking I could control how much I wanted you. I should have seen it happening, but I got too close to…”

He grasps the cocktail glass with such force that I’m afraid it’ll shatter, just like my heart is doing, piece by piece. There’s a slow bleed inside my chest, tears rising to choke my throat and cloud my gaze.

I want to ask him what he’d been about to say. He got too close to me?

But I want that closeness again. Dear god, I want it with every cell in my body, with my soul.

He takes another drink, then bares his teeth as if the brandy burns. Then he says, “I’ve been thinking about this since last week, and the bottom line is that you distract me from what I need to do to keep the business safe. I didn’t think it through when I extended your contract, and now that you’re living with me, getting closer, closer…” His throat works as he swallows. “You’re too damned close. I can’t see anything clearly when you’re around.”

He’s lost his cool. He’s blaming me, and it’s not fair. But I think he knows that, because something flashes through his gaze before he puts up those walls again.

“Travis…” His name abrades my throat.

He rises from his chair, taking his drink with him. I can’t get up from the floor. I only sit there numbly like a pile of limp rags that he’s already discarded.

My mind flits from thought to thought. This can’t be happening. Any moment now I’m going to wake up to discover him in bed with me, his arms around me…

He goes to the bookcase and pulls open a section of it. Behind the façade, I can see a safe, and he turns his back on me, blocking my view as he accesses it. I hear it spring open, and he reaches inside.

“This situation between us,” he says. “It needs to end.”

A silent wail drags itself through me as I hold back a sharp sob. All he needs is some understanding, someone to talk to, someone to touch him and show him that the world doesn’t need to be this dark.

He turns to me and holds out a wad of cash. The room is beginning to blur in front of me from hot, oncoming tears.

I vaguely see him slide the cash onto the surface of his desk, then he turns back around to close the safe and the false book front. Everything starts to spin in front of me, because, truly, this can’t be happening. In a moment, Travis will come to his senses and everything will be the same as it was before.

“That’s two hundred thousand dollars,” he says. “It should be sufficient to pay for our time together.”

I finally find my voice. “And sufficient enough to assuage your guilt?”

I sound garbled, devastated, but at least I’m not pretending that there’s nothing between us. Dammit, doesn’t he know that, too?

His back has gone stiff, as if I’ve shot him with a poison dart and he’s feeling the effects slip through his cold blood.

“I’ve arranged for you to stay in a hotel for the remainder of our agreement. A car will be by to pick you up in a half hour. Take whatever you need from your room because I have no use for it anymore.”

Without another word, he walks out of the room.

I don’t know how long I sit there with tears streaming down my face. I’m trying to understand what just occurred, but I can’t seem to piece anything together, especially my decimated emotions.

But, finally, somehow, some way, I pick myself up from the floor, vowing I’ll cry later. It has to be later, after I’m out the door and Travis can’t hear my sobs.

With no regrets about taking the money—I did earn it—I gather the bills from the desk then glance at what Travis left next to it. It’s the diamond necklace he had me wear on the first night we were together.

I leave the lusterless thing there, right along with my heart.