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“Not that. About the note. Did you tell Leo?”
She’s staring at me, and I can’t help it.
I lie.
“No.”
After all, it’s not like she’s ever going to find out the truth.
Is she?
ChapterThirteen
MIA
He’s probably lying. I keep thinking that, and mentally kicking myself because it’s like I’m looking for an issue.
Every time we get close and things feel good, I fight.
After breakfast of really terrible pancakes Christian insists on making, which kind of pleases me because him not being good at something makes him a little more human, and accessible, I take off to work in my room.
I say kind of pleases me, because human and accessible are dangerous, and Christian is already beyond dangerous to me.
From the small touches as he cooks, touches that sizzle and take my breath, to his smile and the tiny frown and narrow-eyed stare where he also bites a corner of his bottom lip when concentrating, do a number on me.
Like him flipping the pancakes, my stomach does the same. My pulse swoops, and my blood surges hard and fast against the surface of my skin.
He makes me hot, like there’s a slow burn building inside me. And yet he doesn’t try anything. There’s nothing calculated about those touches.
Sometimes they’re brushes against me as we reach for the same thing. Other times he’s just moving me out of the way. But by the time breakfast is done and eaten, my stomach is in so many knots that I have to leave.
He waves me away with a warning to not even think about attempting to sneak off, and then he commandeers my office.
I’m okay with that. Christian out of the way means I can breathe.
And I do all the things I need to do. With my laptop, I call in with Angel and Reaper, I set up and go over that evening’s performances, and after a moment, I switch out the girls who are meant to be in the VIP room.
In there, they dance on tables and give the elite members special dances that flirt with the concept of lap dances if they choose. I say flirt because there’s no contact, and I don’t want it like that. But the guys in there have big meetings or celebrations, and they like the girls topless at all times.
So, I have a selection of them who are good with that.
There are always two bouncers in there, and tonight, although I usually have Andrew at the front door, I put him in there.
And I ask him to let me know if there are any behavioral changes with the girls.
He’s trustworthy. He’s the one who quietly told me about Ellie, even though I’d noticed myself. And more than that, he doesn’t ask questions, and he’s the right side of discreet.
When I’m done with my calls, both online and on my phone, I check in with Ellie’s mom. She’s still unconscious, but there’s improvement, and for that I give a small sigh and silent words of thanks to whatever Gods might be listening.
The sun has dipped low when it hits me that it’s been hours. After all the calls, I’ve been planning my proposal that I want to hit Angel and Reaper with when the time comes.
I want to take Hellfire in another direction, or failing that, start something new, hopefully with their backing.
But my stomach growls, so I head downstairs.
Christian’s standing in the kitchen, looking into the fridge, and my heart flips and flops at the sight of him.
How can he take my breath away every single time?
