Page 7 of Big Billionaire

He studies me for a long moment, then tucks the card into the inside pocket of his jacket like it belongs to him now. “I’ll find out who sent this,” he says, voice low enough that it feels like a vow. “And when I do, they’ll wish they’d never heard your name.”

The certainty in his tone steals my breath.

“You’re not staying in your room at the Academy tonight.”

I blink. “What?”

“You’re coming with me,” he says simply. “Until I know you’re safe, you’ll be at my place.”

My heart jumps, my mind tripping over the implication. “Damien, I—”

“It’s not a request.” His gaze holds mine, unyielding, like the matter is already decided. “Pack what you need. I’ll wait.”

There’s something in his tone, a finality that makes me realize I’m not getting out of this. And maybe…a part of me doesn’t want to.

So I do as he says, and before I know it I’m leaving the locker room at his side, stepping out into the night. It’s dark as we walk to his car, a streetlight forming a spotlight like we’re on a stage.

He opens the passenger door for me, and for a moment as he leans down, his face is close to mine. Maybe too close.

I catch my breath, and I wonder what I’d do if he kissed me. How his mouth would feel on mine. What he would taste like.

He’s close enough to do it, the warmth of our breath clouding together in the cool night air.

But then the moment is gone, and he’s circling the car to the driver’s side while I buckle my seat belt. And I’m wondering what I’ve gotten myself into.

Chapter Four

Damien

My house has never felt smaller.

I lead her upstairs, stopping in front of the spare bedroom across from mine. “You can settle in here,” I tell her, pushing the door open. “Bathroom’s through there. If you need anything, anything at all, you tell me.”

“I’m fine. Thank you,” she says in a quiet voice, shaking her head.

But then she hesitates, her eyes dropping for a second before coming back up, the faintest pink brushing across her cheeks. “Actually…I, um…don’t have anything to change into. I was wondering if…” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her lashes lowering like she can’t quite meet my gaze. “If maybe I could…wear one of your shirts?”

Christ.

The request is innocent, but the way her soft blush spreads down her neck, the way her teeth catch her bottom lip, the way she looks so damn small and sweet in my space…it’s anything but.

I hold her gaze for a moment longer than I should. “Yeah,” I say finally, my voice lower than I intend. “I’ll get you one.”

I turn away before I do something I’ll regret and head to my room, grabbing a black button-up from my closet. When I hand it to her, her fingers brush mine. The touch is as light as a feather, unintentional but enough to make my pulse spike.

She smiles, shy and unsure, and it feels like she’s just handed me a live wire.

I leave before I forget why I’m supposed to be keeping my distance.

Downstairs, I go straight to the bar. My hand closes around the neck of a bottle of whiskey, and I pour a generous glass. I need something strong, something to keep me in check.

Lena Clarke is in my home.

I tell myself it’s for her safety. That the card, the threat…this is about protecting her. But the truth is, safety is the last thing on my mind.

All evening, I’ve been holding a leash on my desire. Now she’s here, within reach, and the leash is fraying. Her wide, green eyes. That graceful body built for the stage. The way she looked at me when I told her to come with me…like I was the only safe place she had left.

It’s hard to stay sane.