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“Are you okay?” She frowned her concern.
No doubt because of the dark scowl currently creasing his brow. “Did something happen to Honey’s previous owner?”
Mia nodded. “She died last month.”
Obviously Mia had now adopted the animal as her own. “You do know this is a no-pets-allowed apartment building?” He frowned as he realized his hand was absently stroking the dog’s ears as she continued to lean against him.
Mia gave him conspiratorial smile. “What the owner doesn’t know isn’t going to hurt him or her.”
“Him,” Darius corrected distractedly, having now realized the dark cloud that had been hanging over his head all day had lifted somewhat.
He didn’t exactly feel a sudden urge to cuddle fluffy bunnies and kittens, but the urge to strangle someone with his bare hands had certainly faded.
Had the dog done that?
Honey looked up at him with knowing and warm brown eyes, as if to say,Yes, I really did that.
“Why are there no buttons for the floors inside this elevator?”
Darius refocused his attention on Mia as she looked around the walls of the confined space for the panel with the buttons to press for the lower nineteen floors of the apartment building. There wasn’t one. Instead, there was just a single small thumbprint recognition screen.
Histhumbprint. “Because it’s a private elevator for the twentieth floor.” It also went straight down to the private underground car park.
Mia’s straight white teeth chewed briefly on her bottom lip. “I’m guessing that’s the penthouse apartment?”
“Yes.”
“I was told the owner lived on the whole of the top floor?”
“You were told correctly.”
“Are you visiting?”
“No.”
“Making a delivery?”
“No.”
“In the wrong building?”
“Definitely not.”
Mia gave a pained wince. “Which, by a process of elimination, means you must be the owner?”
“It looks that way, yeah.”
* * *
Mia instinctively knew it didn’t just look that way, it was exactly that way.
This overpoweringly alpha man—who, it seemed, owned the whole of this towering London apartment building—was at least four inches over six feet tall. Which meant he loomed over her one inch over five feet. His dark hair was styled short at the back and sides and kept longer on the top in an almost military style. His eyes were a piercing blue, nose long and straight between sharp cheekbones, with sensual lips above a hard and chiseled jaw. He was wearing a plaid shirt that stretched tautly across his muscular chest, with a black T-shirt beneath, and faded jeans molded to his long legs. He wore heavy black boots on his feet.
A casual appearance that didn’t look as if he belonged in this exclusive apartment building any more than she did.
Evidence—the fact he was standing in the private elevator for the owner’s apartment on the top floor—clearly said otherwise.
Oh God, he waswaiting to ascend!
