Denied

He lifts our hands and threads our fingers so we can open the fridge door together. ‘You wouldn’t want me to, so this will be a pointless discussion.’



‘Agreed.’ I’m confronted by the contents of Miller’s fridge, noting shelves of neatly stored food – mostly fruit or something equally healthy, and bottled water. He takes our hands to the basket of strawberries, and I smile. ‘Chocolate for breakfast?’



‘That would be extremely unhealthy.’



‘So?’



He nips at my earlobe as he takes the fruit out of the fridge. ‘For breakfast we have strawberries with Greek yogurt.’



‘Doesn’t sound as tasty,’ I grumble, and I bet it’s fat-free, too.



I’m ignored, the slight straightening of his lips telling me to quit complaining without the need for a verbal warning. A gentle nudge of his h*ps into my lower back followed by his backward steps has my feet shifting, mirroring his steps and taking us away from the reflection of the fridge doors. His eyes are glued to mine, scorching my na**d flesh, and remain that way until he’s forced to turn us. We move across the kitchen as one, collect a chopping board from one cupboard, two bowls from another, a colander from another, and finally a paring knife from a drawer before everything is placed neatly on the work surface. Our hands work together, although every motion is instigated by Miller, me happy to let that happen because then I can’t do anything wrong. He’s humming his sweet melody in my ear absent-mindedly, seeming so peaceful, which warms me to the core and beyond. He’s happy and content, like me preparing breakfast to his standards and following his way could possibly be the most fulfilling thing in the world. To Miller, it might just be. He helps me lift the knife and covers my hand with his while collecting a strawberry and placing it on the chopping board. Then he guides my hand to lift the knife and directs the blade across the top, removing the stem. He pushes the discarded piece to one corner, halves the red, plump fruit, and places a loving kiss on my cheek before he pops the pieces in the colander.



‘Perfect,’ he praises, like he hasn’t just influenced the string of accurate motions we’ve undertaken, down to the handling of the knife. But if it keeps Miller’s perfect world turning on its perfect axis, then I’ll happily comply. He collects another strawberry, keeping his chin on my shoulder. The nearness of his steady breathing in my ear as he hums is past comforting. This must be the closest one can come to heaven while still on earth.



‘I thought you could stay with me today,’ he says quietly, guiding my hand to the strawberry. A gentle pressure on my hand splits the flesh, revealing its juicy, mouth-watering centre. I wouldn’t dare do something as silly as sneak a piece, not under my finicky Miller’s watch, so I’m utterly gobsmacked when he collects one of the halves and brings it to his mouth. Frowning, I follow its path, momentarily distracted by the slow parting of his lips before he slips it between them. Only momentarily, though. Displeasure soon snuffs it.



‘That’s—’ I get no further into my objection, Miller’s mouth silencing me. He bites down and juice bursts between our kiss, truly making it the tastiest kiss ever. Miller and strawberry. ‘Hmmm,’ I hum in pleasure, juice dribbling down my chin.



‘I concur,’ he whispers, breaking our kiss and licking a delicate wet stroke up my chin, fulfilling his self-appointed role of cleaning up our mess. It might be pleasurable for him, but it’s still tidying of some nature, so it figures Miller would jump at the role.



‘I have to go to work today,’ I murmur under his penetrative gaze. My body is on fire and a whole day locked in Miller’s apartment, the world shut safely outside, is almost impossible to resist, but I can’t shirk work again.



He kisses my nose on an accepting sigh. Too accepting. ‘I understand, but promise me you won’t venture off on your own.’ His plea drags my contentment and comfort into worry. I’m being followed. ‘I’ll take you and collect you.’



‘How long do you expect to have to chaperone me?’ I ask. While I’m more than concerned by the revelations of an unwanted shadow, I also appreciate that Miller can’t babysit me for ever.



‘Just until we have established who and why.’ He resumes chin on shoulder and strawberry slicing.



‘Who’s “we”?’



I definitely don’t imagine a hesitant pause before he answers. ‘You and I.’



I’m suspicious. I hate being suspicious. Suspicion is dangerous and it also spikes curiosity. And I hate curiosity, probably more than suspicion. ‘I can’t establish anything unless you give me the information, which you won’t, leaving you to establish things.’



‘Well, that’s how it should be,’ he states matter-of-factly, increasing that wretched suspicion and curiosity. ‘I don’t want your lovely mind worrying about it.’ He affirms his claim by pushing the knife through another strawberry and kissing my temple. ‘We’ll be leaving that line of conversation right there.’



‘Where?’ I ask on a roll of my eyes. I’ve been put firmly in my place, kind of, yet I can’t help a sarcastic quip.



‘There’s no ne—’



‘Miller,’ I sigh. ‘Loosen up!’ It’s one step forward, a million back.



‘I’m perfectly loose.’ He pushes his groin into my lower back and bites my neck, making me squirm and laugh, and just like that, he contradicts my previous thought.



‘Stop it!’ I gasp through my laughter.



‘Never.’



But he does stop, and I stop laughing instantly, too, snapping my head up in attention. ‘Was that a doorbell?’ I ask, intrigued. I’ve never heard the sound before.



‘I believe it was.’ Miller sounds as interested as I am.



‘Who could it be?’



‘Well, let’s find out.’ He prises my hand off the knife and lays it parallel to the chopping board before releasing me. Then he tidies his workstation quickly and efficiently and collects my folded knickers and T-shirt.



He takes my hand and paces through the apartment speedily. We’re in his dressing room in no time, and I hear the doorbell sound again as he mutters under his breath, something about disturbances. He pulls a pair of fresh black boxers on and actually begins to rotate the damn T-shirts while the doorbell rings persistently in the background. I’m silent and watching him grow more and more agitated by the second as he yanks his T-shirt on. He takes my hands and kisses my knuckles. ‘Take a shower.’ A chaste kiss is dropped on my forehead and he’s gone, leaving me standing like a plum in the middle of his dressing room, with curiosity my only companion. It’s bombarding me, and not prepared to remain alone for it to drive me nuts, I throw my knickers and a shirt on and follow quietly behind Miller, his long, powerful legs eating up the journey to his front door fast.



Aggression pours from him as he yanks the door open, and it only seems to multiply by a million when whoever’s on the other side is revealed. I can’t see, Miller’s tall frame is blocking my view, but judging from the ice that emanates from Miller’s refined physique, we don’t want to see this person.



‘You can f**k off now, or stay and allow me the pleasure of snapping every bone in your body.’ The hatred in his tone is profound. Frightening. Who is it? I watch Miller’s back heaving, steam virtually pouring from his ears. He’s going to take leave of his senses at any moment. Good God, hasn’t he listened to anything we’ve spoken about? He simply cannot control it.



‘I’ll stay.’



The man’s voice sets my heart racing in my chest. He’s come looking for me? Miller’s fists clench, making the veins of his arms bulge. Shit, he’s getting ready to charge. I move forward, conflicted – intervene or stay well away.



‘As you wish,’ Miller replies casually, like he hasn’t just committed to murdering our guest.



‘I wish you’d back off so my girl can think straight without your influence.’



Miller moves forward. It’s threatening and intended to be. My anxiety accelerates, as does my heart rate. ‘I’ll say this once,’ he seethes, fists clenching and releasing into balls. ‘I have never made Olivia do anything that she doesn’t want to. She belongs with me. She knows it. I know it, and you need to f**king know it, too. If I go anywhere, she’s coming with me.’



I find my courage and creep up behind Miller, sliding my palm onto his back before circling him and placing my body in front of his. A black eye, bruised cheek and split lip greet me.



‘Gregory,’ I breathe nervously, feeling Miller giving off all sorts of worrying vibes. He’s rigid against my back. ‘Are you okay?’



Brown eyes soften at my presence, his face almost relieved. ‘Amazing,’ he jokes, flicking a filthy look to Miller. ‘We need to talk.’



A strong palm grips my neck and begins massaging. If it’s an attempt to knead some of my anxiety out of me, then he’ll fail. It’s swirling through me uncontrollably. Nothing will lessen it, let alone eliminate it. ‘Talk, then,’ Miller orders.



‘Alone,’ Gregory hisses, eradicating any sniff of a hope I held that he was here to fix things with Miller. I feel helpless.



‘Hell will freeze over before I leave Olivia alone with you.’



‘Afraid she’ll leave you?’



‘Yes.’ Miller’s fast, brutally honest answer shocks me, and obviously Gregory, too, because no counter is coming Miller’s way.



Gregory’s eyes absorb me for a few thoughtful moments before he finds some words. ‘Would you like to talk alone?’ he asks, stiffening every muscle in my body. I do. I’m not afraid of what he will say or that he’ll try to convince me to leave Miller, which he probably will. It’ll be wasted energy, and Gregory must know this by now. He’s been pummelled twice for his dedicated interfering, and quite badly. He’s surely not going in for a third round. ‘Well?’ he prompts when I’m still standing silently, mentally figuring out how to handle this. Or handle Miller.



My blank face is suddenly looking up at Miller after he’s turned me in his arms. All rage and stress has gone, his eyes clear and concerned. ‘Would you like a moment alone with your friend?’



I’m stunned. Totally dumbfounded. I nod, unable to get any words past my shock. Miller nods, too, exhaling deeply and dipping to kiss my nose as his palm cups the back of my head. He’s prepared to allow someone the opportunity to interfere?



‘I’ll take a shower,’ he says quietly. ‘Take as long as you need.’ The uncharacteristic display has thrown me for a loop, and I know Gregory is slightly taken aback, too. I can practically hear his shock in the form of a surprised, thumping heartbeat. I’m about to nod again, but I’m quickly considering how uncomfortable Gregory might feel remaining in Miller’s apartment. And me, too, for that matter. Miller lurking in the background ready to attack should he overhear some words he doesn’t approve of will do nothing to relax me.



‘We’ll walk down to the coffee house,’ I utter, less confidently than I would have liked, my heart sinking when Miller starts shaking his head with worried eyes. ‘I’ll be with Gregory,’ I add with a pleading gaze, but with no faith that that will sway him. Gregory must be wondering what’s going on. I can’t land him with stalker news, not on top of everything else. ‘Please.’ My shoulders sag, defeated.



The confliction riddling him is plain and clear and written all over his face. ‘Okay,’ he agrees reluctantly, nearly knocking me to my backside in astonishment. His soft eyes leave mine and harden the moment they find Gregory. ‘I trust you’ll guard her with as much care and attention as I do.’



I cough on a choke and gape at his perfectly straight face, knowing he’ll be getting the same look from Gregory. He really isn’t helping his cause. I understand him. I get him. I see past his uptight persona and hear past his confounding way with words. But no one else can.