Denied (One Night 2) - Page 58

This can’t end well.

My teeth grit and I delete the message, damning myself for reading it.

‘I haven’t seen Gregory in a while.’ Nan’s statement is laced with forced nonchalance. She knows he and I aren’t speaking. I can’t bring myself to call him, not after his rant. He was furious and undeniably serious in his threat.

‘He’s been busy.’ I toss my phone in my bag and swipe up my cup of tea, blowing the steam from the surface while I watch Nan stir hers slowly.

‘He’s never been too busy before.’

No valid reason for Gregory’s absence is dawning on me. She knows Miller and Gregory don’t see eye to eye. It would be easier to tell her that he’s slapped conditions on our friendship, but I just can’t be bothered. ‘I’m going to lie down.’ I scoop my satchel up and stand, giving my grandmother’s pouting face a peck. She hates it when I keep things from her, but with my spunky nan being the only person on the planet, other than Miller and me, encouraging our reunion, I’ve concluded that everything should be on a need-to-know basis. And she doesn’t need to know.

I drag myself upstairs and collapse to my arse on the familiar, messy sheets of my bed as I rummage through my satchel and pull out a paper bag. Flicking through the boxes, I find the pack and open it, popping out the pill before placing it on my tongue and closing my mouth. I just sit there, the tiny tablet feeling like lead. Closing my eyes, I eventually swallow it down and chuck the boxes in the top drawer of my bedside table. Then I fall to my back. There’s no darkness to be found, even if I were to pull the curtains across, so I yank a pillow close and roll into it, nuzzling my face deep and clenching my eyes shut. I’m only a fraction through the day and all of the elation I felt on waking this morning has been killed stone-cold dead.

Chapter Fifteen

Fireworks implode, a soft crackling rousing me from a peaceful slumber. It’s dusk and I’m safe. He’s here. I smile and shift in his hold until I’m lost in beautiful, soft blue eyes. My hands disappear beneath his suit jacket, around his back, and I pull myself closer until his warm breath is coating my cheeks. Circling our noses, he shifts his palm to the back of my thigh, tugging it up to his hip. ‘I was worried about you,’ he whispers. ‘What happened?’

‘I threw up on a pair of grannies.’

His eyes sparkle mischievously. ‘I heard.’

‘Then William showed up.’ I’m not surprised when the sparkle dulls and Miller stiffens in my hold.

‘What did he want?’

‘To irritate me,’ I mutter, snuggling into his chest, my cheek resting over his heart. It’s beating a strong steady thrum and the sound settles me completely. ‘Tell me you’ll never abandon me.’

‘I promise.’ He doesn’t falter, like he’s had a warning that I’d make this request, like he knows why William is hounding me.

It’s enough, because Miller Hart doesn’t make promises that he can’t keep. ‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me, Olivia. Never thank me. Come here, let me see you.’ He wrestles me from the sanctuary of his body and props himself up against my headboard, arranging me on his lap just so. I can feel his erection wedged between our bodies, long and hard, but by the look on Miller’s face, I’m on my own in the lust department. I frown and take a sneaky grind as he clasps my hands and entwines our fingers. Then he cocks a knowing eyebrow at me. ‘Why do you work at the bistro?’

His odd question halts my tempting tactics in their tracks. ‘To earn money.’ That’s not strictly true. I have a bank account bursting at the seams with cash.

‘I have plenty of money. You slaving away in a London café isn’t necessary.’

I bite my bottom lip, worrying it back and forth as I comprehend what he’s saying. His Adam’s apple is bobbing in his throat from his constant swallows. He’s nervous of my reaction, and he should be. ‘I don’t need any man’s money,’ I state quite calmly, even though his hint has zapped my serenity of a few moments ago.

‘I’m not just any man, Olivia.’ His palms slide to my upper arms and pull me close to the stubbled shadow of his jaw. Blue eyes scorch me with heated annoyance, but he’s still gentle with me, and his tone is soft. ‘Don’t upset yourself.’

‘I’m not. I just want to earn my own money.’

‘I know you have more ambition than making coffee.’ Miller’s tone is patronising, and while I could point out that his ambitions were a lot less commendable, I’m not up for another confrontation today.

‘I’m tired.’ I cop out from the line of conversation with that pathetic statement and fall onto his suit-covered chest, pushing my face into his neck and filling my nose with his manly scent.

‘Tired.’ He sighs and envelops me in his arms. ‘It’s six thirty in the evening and I believe you have been in this bed since noon.’

I ignore his observation and reach up to play with his ear, rubbing his lobe through my index finger and thumb. ‘How was your day?’

‘Long. What did Anderson want?’

‘I told you, to irritate me.’

‘Elaborate.’

‘No.’

‘I’ve asked once.’

‘You can ask as many times as you like,’ I whisper. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

I’m being moved before I can stiffen my muscles to hinder him. He pushes me up so I’m straddling his lap and clamps down on my thighs, impatience hazy in his gaze. ‘Tough luck.’

Tags: Jodi Ellen Malpas One Night
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