“So this is the big unveiling?” I ask into the strange silence between us.

He nods. “Yes.”

“Are you nervous?”

He looks at me curiously. “Why would I be nervous?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. The unveiling is a very big thing, isn’t it? The whole world is waiting to see what you come up with. All the knives are out. Everyone is waiting to criticize.”

“Shall I tell you a secret?”

My eyes widen. “Okay.”

He leans forward, his eyes strange and unknowable. I think this is the moment I finally admit to myself: I’m in love with this man. I have been for years. I just refused to acknowledge it. Now, I can no longer run away from the knowledge.

“Ellie is just a party trick, a sleight of hand. Like someone who pulls out a coin from behind your ear. She is already surpassed,” he says, a mocking tilt to his voice, his breath warm against my neck.

“Ellie?” I whisper.

He moves back to look into my face. “Is the AI robot that will be unveiled today.”

I try to assimilate what he is saying. “What do you mean?”

“What they will be celebrating today is already old news. I have built an AI that if unleashed will make the world as we know it unrecognizable.”

I stare at him. I don’t know much about AIs, but I am vaguely afraid of them. I have been ever since I read an article from Steven Hawkins warning us of the dangers of AI. “What kind of changes are we talking about?”

He laughs. “You are a thief and a liar, what makes you think I would tell you?”

That hurt is palpable. I feel in my chest a sharp stab. I turn away from him blindly.

“Chelsea?” he calls, his voice odd, but I don’t turn around. I can’t let him see how much he has hurt me.

“Keep your secrets, Thorne. I don’t want to know. I was just making polite conversation.”

The rest of the journey is managed in tight, tense silence. I can hear him breathe, smell his cologne, see the perfect crease of his trousers, but we might as well have been on different planets. My heart feels numb.

* * *

In spite of the fact the exact location was only revealed to people on an individual basis based on how long the journey will take them to arrive here, someone has managed to alert the paparazzi. They line the perimeter of the hotel and across the street with the long-lens cameras. They are all expecting to see Thorne, but the driver drops us off at the back where the organizers are waiting with a whole load of security men.

I’m actually surprised at how much security there is.

It’s quite unnerving because everybody stares at me. I know they are surprised to see Thorne, a fiercely private and inscrutable man, bring a woman with him. They have never seen him with one before. He leads me inside to meet some of the people. I start to recognize some of the world’s most famous billionaires. Hell, you couldn’t swing a cat without hitting a famous person.

I try to be as gracious as I can when Thorne introduces me to the bright sparks of his industry, but it is impossible for me to remember their names or faces. There are so many of them and they all wear the same awed expression when they are talking to Thorne.

I see a different side of him. He is the star of this show. Everybody wants a piece of him. I take a step back and study his confident, relaxed demeanor. I know it is a mask, so very different from the dark, brooding man I know. I wonder about his AI. All these people think what they are seeing is the latest and most advanced technology, but Thorne has kept the best for himself.

A beautiful blonde woman walks up to us. Even before she reaches us, my hackles rise and my body is on alert. She is taller than me, and her glittering green eyes flash between me and Thorne. A corner of her mouth twists upwards, but it’s not a friendly smile.

“Chelsea Appleby meet Andrea Bloom,” Thorne introduces.

I smile and hold out my hand. She offers me a limp hand and flashes another fake smile.

“Well, well, Chelsea Appleby. You’ve made quite a catch there,” she drawls looking down at me.

If I were in a different surrounding I would know exactly how to answer her, but this is Thorne’s big moment and I’m not going to be the one who makes a scene. I force a polite smile. “How is it that you two know each other?”

“We used to date a lifetime ago, but Thorne turned out to be so extremely driven and ruthless there was no place for a woman in his life.” She looks up at Thorne and winks at him. “Looks like that is no longer true.”

I can see right through her. She is making a play for him. My stomach burns as if I have drunk battery acid. The effortless way he hurt me in the car replays in my mind and I try to tell myself he doesn’t belong to me, but nothing can ease the fire in the pit of my belly. She wants him. Oh, God, maybe he wants her too. The thought is too painful to bear.

“Anyway, that’s all in the past,” she says with a little laugh, and her eyes turn back to me. She glances at my dress and takes a sip of her champagne. “Is that a Chiara Boni?”

I touch the dress self-consciously. “Yes, I think so.”

Her eyebrows lift mockingly. “You’re not sure? How utterly charming.”

I feel myself flush. “Ooo …” she coos. “How sweet. A girl who blushes.” She looks up and sideways at Thorne, a practiced, seductive gesture. “Where on earth did you find this creature? She’s absolutely entertaining.”

I dare not look at Thorne. If I look at him and catch him returning her desire, I will be physically sick, or I will scratch her eyes out. The bitch looks at me again. “Don’t take anything I say to heart. I’m just a terrible tease. I only do it to the people I like. I wouldn’t dare wear that color, but it’s a delightful dress, and it certainly suits you.”

God, she is so phony, I can’t stand it. I thank her for her empty compliment, then immediately excuse myself to search for the restroom. This is a mostly-men affair and there is no one inside, thank God. Stepping inside, I move to the mirror.

I just need a few moments to myself to clear my head.