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Time once again passes so slowly, although it can only be minutes before I’m inside my apartment and as I look up, she stands in the doorway looking so worried it lights the fire inside me.
“Hunter.”
“Are you ok?”
She nods and I hate the worried look in her eye as she stutters, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“How it looked, that man, well, I was set up.”
Tearing off my tie, I say angrily, “Fucking bastards, can’t trust an inch of them. Maybe you should fill me in and we’ll work out our next move.”
She nods and follows me into the living room and I head straight for the decanter and pour us a couple of whiskies. As she takes it, I hate how worried she looks. It feels so important I hold her right now, don’t ask me why, it just does and so I risk physical injury and take a step forward and touch her face, saying gently, “Don’t look so worried, it’s no big deal.”
I stare at her in wonder as her eyes dilate and she leans into my hand. Far from laying me out cold, she appears to need the contact and so I feel a little braver and say gruffly, “Come here.”
I’m amazed when she steps closer and allows my arms to fold around her and I tread so carefully, as if afraid to scare away the frightened creature who needs to learn how to trust me.
She presses her cheek against my chest and I stroke her hair and for a moment it feels like the most natural thing in the world. I’m almost tempted to kiss the top of her head but think it may be a step too far and she whispers, “Who told them?”
“I’m not sure but it should be easy enough to find out. The list isn’t that long of people who know about us.”
“I’m sorry if it’s made you look bad. Not quite the solid relationship we were hoping to portray.”
That is the furthest thing from my mind as I hold this woman in my arms because who gives a fuck what people think? It’s what I think that matters and I think I’m only happy when I’m making some form of contact with this intriguing woman who has crashed into my life like breaking news.
Lexi fills me in on what happened and as we sit side by side on the couch overlooking the city, it feels strange. I don’t share my private space with anyone—ever. Nobody ever comes here, not even my family, because I prefer it this way. I have several rooms inside this penthouse, but only use a handful of them. Now Lexi is here, it fills the space with life and I look at things differently. It strikes me how much I was looking forward to coming home tonight. I couldn’t think of anything else all day and now I’m here I feel content, because she is by my side.
My arm has settled around her like a natural force. Nature intended it to be this way, and it’s happened in just one day. How would I feel if this was one year from now, or ten? Will the attraction wear off as soon as I sample the goods? Maybe, but then something deep inside me raises its middle finger to that. Lexi Mackenzie is here for more than just keeping me alive. She’s here to save my soul from purgatory.
“So, who do you think leaked the news?”
“I’m not sure.” I shrug and think about the person responsible. “There are so few people who knew, it should be easy enough to trace. There’s, Miss. Baxter, Dobson and Rosalie.”
“And Harry and possibly the security guard who saw us at your office last night.”
“Then again, we walked through the streets of New York hand in hand, it could be one of thousands.”
Lexi shakes her head. “Doubtful because there would have been an accompanying photograph. No, I’m guessing it’s closer to home. I’ll feed back the list to Brewer and see if he can trace the informant.”
She shifts and looks at me steadily. “What happens now?”
“We carry on as planned. There’s no need to respond to anything the press writes about us. If I did, it would become my full-time job. No, we carry on with plan A and that probably starts with my family. My mother is pissed that she got to learn of you through a scandal.”
“That sucks.”
“Not really, I couldn’t give a fuck what my family thinks.”
Once again, Lexi shifts and looks at me with a considered expression. “I sense a story there.”
I try to lighten the mood a little. “So, shall we order take out, or head out for dinner, the choice is yours?”
“Take out will be fine.”
She smiles and I love how this feels. It’s as if we’re in our own private bubble away from the world and all its problems. Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time I was home so early and I should be feeling anxious about the work waiting for me at the office—I’m not. I’m just anxious to make the beautiful woman beside me smile and nobody is more surprised about that than me.
