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When the tour was done and the manager got our orders for food and beverages, Jo wandered through the place. She kept looking up and down. She kept biting down on her lip, trying to hide her smile, but I caught it. I wasn’t surprised.
“I have no idea what to do now.” Jo had wandered back, still hugging herself.
The elevator buzzed.
“Those are my bags. One second.”
Emile brought the bags in, placing them right inside the door. He paused, his gaze sweeping to Jo. “Is there anything else you need, Kian?”
“No, thank you.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “Take the night off.”
“Um…” Jo surged forward but stopped herself. Her hand covered her mouth. “Sorry.”
Emile frowned in her direction. He was wondering if he’d need to drive her home later or not.
I explained for both of them, “She can stay here, if she wants, or I can drive her home.”
His gaze snapped to mine. “Kian.”
“It’ll be fine.” I patted his shoulder again. “Go home. Go see your little granddaughter.”
My driver shook his head, giving me a rueful look. “I’m too young to have grandbabies, but—”
I finished for him, hitting the elevator button, “But you do, and I know you’ve been spending all your free time with them since we’ve been in town. It’s nice to have your family here.”
The doors slid open, and he stepped inside. “You sure I have the night off?”
A look passed between us. Emile was worried. He knew who Jo was, and he disapproved of her presence.
“Have fun tonight. I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine,” I said.
“Kian—” he started.
The doors slid shut before he could say any more. I lingered there. Emile’s concern meant more to me than I’d let him know.
“He knows who I am.”
I nodded, turning around. Jo was leaning against the doorframe. One of her arms was crossed over her chest, holding on to her other arm. It was like she was shielding herself from me, but she had come to me.
That said so much.
“Kian?” The corner of her lip dipped down.
“Yes, he knows who you are.”
“And he doesn’t approve that I’m here?”
My eyebrow rose. “Anyone in your camp approve of you being here?”
Her cheeks pinked, and she looked away. “Stark is my camp.”
I raised my eyebrows.
She laughed a small little laugh. “Point taken.” It wasn’t much, but its power spread through me, warming every coldness inside me. I felt myself thawing in places that I hadn’t realized were there. That was the effect she had on me while in my presence, while in my penthouse, where I would be living for the next few weeks.
“Kian?”
She bit into the other side of her cheek. I was almost mesmerized, taking in all her little details. Every tiny gesture said so much about her. I wanted to learn all of them. I wanted to understand everything about her—why she kept herself from speaking sometimes, why she was still shielding herself from me, why she’d reached for my hand and had no clue about it.
I forced out a deep breath of air. One thing at a time. “I trust Emile. He’s been my driver since I was little.”
She frowned. “You make it sound like he was the nanny who raised you.”
“He did, in a way.” Hearing the door, I moved past her for the front entrance. I murmured, “He’s the only one who would put up with me. My nannies all hated me.”
“Why?” She laughed, turning so that she could still see me as I went through the living room.
Pausing before I moved down the hallway that went to the front entrance, I flashed her a grin. “They were hired for my father’s bedroom, so I liked to call them does.”
“Does?”
“The plural form for doe. I thought I was so smart, adding Daddy and hoe together.”
Two seconds later, she burst out laughing. I went for the door and opened it to find the food and beverages had been brought up. The manager started to push the cart all the way inside, but I stopped her because Jo had taken my hooded sweatshirt off.
“I can do that. Thank you for bringing all this up yourself.”
The manager moved back from the cart. “Oh. Of course.” She went back to the door. “Is there anything else you’d like?”
“This is fine. Thank you again.”
She lingered before leaving, glancing over her shoulder to me. If I’d been standing beside my father, I would’ve assumed she was hitting on him. I wasn’t, though, and the sexual interest was evident. My eyes flashed a warning. She needed to go. Registering it, she gave me one last professional smile before slipping through the door.
Jo was leaning against the kitchen counter when I brought the cart in. “Let me guess. She slipped you her number?”
I shook my head, lifting one of the covers to reveal a platter of vegetables and fruit. “Uh, no.”
