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“Yeah.” She sighs, then relapses into forlorn silence.
Even in a state of misery, Lana glows, her beauty radiant, her spirit fiery. She’s an untamable force of nature, and I want her for my own. I finally allow myself to give in to my desire. At the very least, I admit to myself that I’m pining after this woman like a lovestruck fool.
It makes no sense.
I was never one to believe in falling for someone so quickly. Even with Nyla, I had dated her extensively, gotten to know her, fallen in love with her, and then married her.
But with Lana, it’s just—she’s fire and heat and defiance, all rolled into one breath. She challenges me, makes my blood stir, and throws up barriers I find myself tearing down in an attempt to get to her. She’s made me fall hopelessly in love with her.
From the corner of my eye, I regard her, trying to drag her into conversation for any chance to hear her sultry tone. “How did you like dinner?”
“I was expecting something fancy,” she scoffs, but not unhappily. “Not a pizza joint.”
I give a small smile. “I thought you would prefer comfort food rather than a three-course meal.”
She shifts toward me then, slight surprise in her eyes. Her tone is soft. “Yeah. It did help. Thanks.”
I meet her gaze with a warm one of my own. “Good.”
After a few moments of seemingly being lost in her thoughts, she says, “When Caleb told me about you, I had this image of you in my head.”
“Yes?” I find myself curious.
“Yeah, a haughty aristocrat, who likes tea and crumpets at four in the evening like clockwork and turns his nose up at anything remotely resembling fast food.”
Seeing the mischief in her eyes from the rearview mirror, I say drily, “Well, I’m sorry to burst your bubble of the British stereotype.”
“No, it’s okay,” she soothes, as if I’ve actually committed some horrific grievance and she chooses to forgive me out of the kindness of her heart. “It’s no big deal.”
“And I’ll sleep better for it.”
She snorts at my sardonic words.
Not that she gets a chance to say anything because I pull the car into an underground parking lot, which has heavy security and bright lights. “Well, we’re here.”
10
Lana
The penthouse is on a sprawling floor that looks like it came out from a movie scene with its glamour and sterile appearance. It has two bedrooms, attached to a massive living area, kitchen, and dining room.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask Oliver why he’s taken up Caleb on his offer for accommodations when I see his posture. He’s lurking around the foyer, a certain stiffness to his form that hadn’t been there before.
“Come on,” he says, his previous friendliness in the car having evaporated. “I’ll give you the tour.” He strides quickly, his long legs covering more distance, and I’m forced to keep up with him.
“You won’t be disturbed,” he shoots my way, the unforgiving expression on his face growing heavier by the second. I’m starting to feel unsettled.
Is he mad at me for something?
He’s talking, his smoky accent curling around his vowels in that elegant way, a certain harshness to his tone, and I firm my jaw. If I did something, I’d rather he tell me now.
I can handle it.
“Oliver.”
He’s not listening.
I reach out and grab at his wrist, stopping him from moving.
