Unveiled (One Night 3)

‘Hello, Olivia.’ William’s voice is comforting. Yet I don’t want to hear anything he has to say. He’d warned me away from Miller from the moment he knew of our relationship.

‘Hi, William.’ I quickly turn to Miller and tense my muscles, ready to lift from his lap. ‘I’ll let you work in peace.’ But I go nowhere. Miller slowly shakes his head at me and firms up his grip.

‘How are you?’ William’s question was easy to answer . . . half an hour ago.

‘Fine,’ I squeak, chastising myself for feeling awkward, but worst of all for acting it. ‘I’m just going to make some breakfast.’ I make to stand again . . . and go nowhere.

‘Olivia’s staying,’ Miller announces. ‘Continue.’

‘As we were?’ William sounds shocked, and that notches my awkwardness up the scale to plain panic.

‘As we were,’ Miller breaths, finding my nape and working into my tenseness with firm, purposeful kneads. He’s wasting his time.

There’s silence down the line, then the odd sound of movement, probably William fidgeting uncomfortably in his big office chair before he speaks. ‘I’m not sure—’

‘She’s staying,’ Miller cuts him off, and I brace myself for a counterattack from William . . . but it doesn’t come.

‘Hart, I question your morals daily.’ William chuckles. It’s a dark, sardonic chuckle. ‘But I’ve always been certain of your sanity, however in-fucking-sane some of your exploits have been. I’ve always known you were perfectly lucid.’

I want to jump in to put William straight. There’s nothing lucid about Miller when he loses his temper. He’s wild, unreasonable . . . a complete, certifiable maniac. Or is he? I slowly turn in his hold to find his face. Piercing blue eyes are immediately singeing my skin. His face, although impassive, is angelic. My mind twists as I try to figure out whether what William is saying could be true. I can’t agree. Maybe William hasn’t seen Miller touch the kind of rage he has unleashed since he met me.

‘I always know exactly what I’m doing and why I’m doing it.’ Miller speaks slowly and concisely. He knows what I’m thinking. ‘I may lose rationality for a split second, but only for a split second,’ he whispers, so quietly William couldn’t have possibly heard him. And just like that, he answers another question that I was silently deliberating. ‘My actions are always valid and warranted.’

William hears that part. I know this because he laughs. ‘In whose world, Hart?’

‘Mine.’ He turns his attention back to his phone and tightens his grip on me. ‘And now yours, too, Anderson.’

His words are cryptic. I don’t understand them, but the fear biting its way up my spine and the long eerie silence that settles tells me to be wary of them. Why did I come in here? Why didn’t I head straight for the kitchen and get something to eat? I was hungry when I woke. Not now, though. Now my stomach feels like an empty void filling rapidly with anxiety.

‘Your world will never be mine.’ William’s tone is rampant with rage. ‘Never.’

I need to leave. This could be one of those times when their two worlds collide, and I don’t want to be anywhere near when that happens. The Atlantic between them may mean no physical clash is possible, but just the tone of William’s voice, his words, and Miller’s vibrating body beneath me is a good enough sign that it still won’t be pretty.

‘I’d like to leave,’ I say, trying in vain to pry Miller’s hand from my tummy.

‘Stay where you are, Olivia.’ My attempts prove fruitless and Miller’s unreasonable insistence that I hang around for the unpleasant show sees my sass flying to the surface.

‘Let. Go. Of. Me.’ My jaw is pulsing, my pissed off eyes stabbing at his straight features. I’m shocked when I’m immediately released. I hastily stand, and not knowing whether to dart out or leave calmly, I begin brushing down my non-existent clothes while I deliberate my quandary.

‘I’m sorry,’ Miller speaks up, reaching for one of my busy hands and squeezing it gently. ‘Please, I’d like you to stay.’

There’s a brief, uneasy silence before William’s genuine, amused laugh breaks our private moment, reminding me that he’s still technically in the room with us. ‘Yes, we’re done,’ he confirms. ‘I apologise also.’

‘I don’t understand why you want me here,’ I confess. This is already too much to process.

‘William has been trying to figure out a few things, that’s all. Please, stay and hear what he has to say.’

I’m relieved he wants to let me help share the burden, but I’m frightened, too. Nodding a little, I take my place on his lap and allow him to negotiate my body into the position of his liking, which is to the side, my legs dangling over the arm of the chair, my cheek on his chest.

‘OK. So, Sophia?’

My blood runs cold, just from the mention of her name.

‘She’s insisting she never breathed a word to Charlie.’

Charlie? Who’s Charlie?

‘I believe her,’ Miller says. It’s a reluctant admission and it surprises me, even more so when William agrees. ‘Did you sense any indication that she could have been following Olivia?’

‘I couldn’t tell for sure, but we all know how that woman feels about you, Hart.’

I certainly know how Sophia feels about Miller, mostly because she was kind enough to tell me herself. She’s a former client who fell in love with him. Or became obsessed with him, is more accurate. Miller was worried she’d tried to abduct me. Does she love him that much? Enough to get rid of me?