Page 125 of Watching Her

His deep breath was the only affirmative I needed.

“Wow. All the time I felt someone was watching me, that was you, wasn’t it? No, Carrington did at least once. Are all men stalkers?”

“I spent time getting to know you, Penelope.”

“Does that mean you have listening devices? Cameras?”

He chose now to remain silent.

“My God. I don’t know what to say.” I half laughed while a knot formed in my stomach. This was crazy. I was both excited and horrified.

Apparently, neither did he. For whatever crazy reason, I accepted the lengths he’d gone to under the guise of protecting his business, including unaliving another human being. But I couldn’t handle the fact he’d used stalking methods to keep me under surveillance.

As if a light bulb went off, I realized I just couldn’t handle the invasion of privacy. I backed away, holding my arms because I was shaking.

“Penelope.”

“What, Christian? You know that’s not normal behavior. That was all part of the game. Right? Get to know all my secrets, my dark fantasies to use so I’d surrender to you. Right?”

“I told you about the game, but everything has changed between us.”

“Oh, my God. I am such a fool.” I backed away once again, but I was laughing so hard I doubled over. “You and your buddies were playing not just with me at the conference, but two of the other girls there. Right? Wait…” I thought about Jasmine and Chantal. “The publisher. The media guy, both who suddenly appeared. The three of you sent the note to our table. I’m watching you. Those were the words. Each one of us wasn’t certain who sent it. All part of the game.”

At least he didn’t try to deny the lengths he’d gone to so he could be the winner.

At all costs.

Now I was hot. “Answer me this. What was the prize? Bragging rights? Do you have some black book you guys write down who wins? Or was money exchanged?”

“Money? Of course not.” He acted insulted.

Well, fuck him. I reacted. I took two long strides toward him and let loose, cracking my hand across his face. The sound reverberated through the trees.

“You asshole. Here I allowed myself to believe fantasies really could come true, even if you are a little deranged. Take me home.”

“Penelope.”

“No,” I hissed, throwing out my hand. “Take. Me. Home.”

* * *

Was this what wallowing in self-pity was like?

I’d come home exhausted, but unable to sleep, furious with myself for a couple of things. One being that I’d fallen into another trap. Granted, Christian had been very creative in his game, which of course would make some women feel honored.

Had I felt he was playing me? Well, the dance was certainly more of what I liked to call a show and glow, but after that, everything had felt so real.

The heavier load on my heart that was keeping me crazy was that I really had fallen for him. Like some silly lovesick girl.

At least he hadn’t argued with me, taking me home. In fact, he’d done so on the bike, which had controlled our conversation. I’d walked away, slamming the door. And so far, he hadn’t tried to contact me.

The worst part was that I missed him. But he’d killed people because of me. Who did that? A crazy man. A man with no conscience. A man with no heart.

Only I’d seen his heart in action.

And I knew what we’d shared hadn’t been fake.

I paced the floor in my kitchen, struggling even to swallow a cup of coffee. I should be getting back to work, but I couldn’t bear the thought of doing so, and it was already eleven in the morning.