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Clearing her throat, she said, “You were a decent distraction.”
“Right. Decent. We’ll circle back to that later.”
Her voice went soft as she straightened. “Why are you helping me?”
“Because you need it. And you were desperate enough to break into my offices and I’d like to know why.”
“Why were you in the room Connor was supposed to be in last night?”
“I was assigned that room,” I lied smoothly.
Her gaze searched mine. “Really?”
"Really."
She blew out a breath. “I nearly got you run over by a car.” Her voice shook, and I knew she was going into shock.
“You know, that's not even the worst date I've had this year.”
Again, there was a perfect quirk to her lips as she smiled up at me. My eyes were glued to the plump softness of them. I wanted to taste her again. See if she tasted the same. I sucked in a deep breath and held out my hand. And when she reluctantly grabbed it, I pulled her with me.
“My car is back at the office. I'll drive you to my flat. You’ll stay with me.”
CHAPTER 9
KAYA
Bloody hell.So this was how the other half lived.
Jasper Saint's penthouse was spectacular. I had never been to a place like this before. One wall was floor-to-ceiling glass. Freaking glass! That required a level of confidence in yourself I'd never seen the likes of before. No doubt there was probably something fancy that made it so other people couldn't look in, but if you looked as hot as Jasper did, maybe not.
The floors were a light hardwood. Everything was modern, fresh, and clean. There was some clutter, like papers and mail on the coffee table, but mostly things were neat and it was furnished in a muted neutral tone. A little color wouldn’t kill him. The place looked barely lived in.
This isn't your house.
Nope. No, it was not. This washishouse, the rich billionaire. I had zero business even having an opinion, let alone coming up with ideas of how to redecorate. What the hell was I thinking? As I spun around, I couldn't help whistling low. "Nice digs."
He nodded with a shrug. "It does the trick."
"You have a penthouse in central London, and you shrug about it."
"None of it matters. What matters is you're okay. Are you hurt?"
I frowned at that. "No, I'm not hurt. I just…" I frowned as I thought about it. What the hell was I doing with my life? Twenty-four hours ago, I'd had a perfectly nice flat. I was a student. And now, everything was up in the air.
You can’t go back to your life.
That was true, but could I stay here? There were men who had legitimately tried to hurt me today. Men I'd never seen before. To make matters worse, all the times my mother had spoken about the invisible boogeyman, I had doubted her. In the last five years, I had started to wonder if anyone had been chasing us because I had been completely safe. But now I knew she wasn't kidding. Our lives hadn't been a joke when we were running.
As I stared out of Saint's massive windows overlooking the South Bank, the London city lights twinkling in greeting, I realized I wasn't ever going back to my life. At least not how I knew it. Not after they’d chased me this morning. Was this place even safe? Fuck, I was tired of thinking about it all.
Saint disappeared for a moment and came back with a bottle of water. He held it out to me, and I took it gratefully. When I uncapped it, I noticed the label.Pierre Lucian. I had once asked them for sponsorship for the center. I knew how much their bottles were. Nearly twenty quid… forwater. I was breathing that rarefied air now.
"I think it's probably better if you stay here for a while."
"I'll get out of your hair just as soon as I figure out what to do next."
He sighed and then crossed his arms. I tried not to think about what that did to his suit jacket, the navy fabric pooling over his arms and shoulders. "Do you have anywhere to go right now?"
