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“I don’t want to own you.” The words come from fucking nowhere, and I write them off. “I just want…” I inhale and shake my head to clear it. “Stay away from him. He’s a lying bastard and won’t hesitate to take advantage of any trust you extend his way.”
“Are you saying that because of what happened with Alexander,” she counters, her chin in the air. “Or because of you.”
I grind my teeth so hard I feel my jaw ache. Damn her for throwing a reckless bit of pillow talk back in my face. “Fine. It’s your well-being at stake. Who am I to care?”
I turn on my heel, ready to leave the damn building entirely.
“Graeme, Wait.” I’ve barely gone a step when I feel her hand on my shoulder. “It’s funny how you didn’t ask me whether or not I had any intention of going before jumping to conclusions and issuing orders.” She’s frowning when I face her, both hands on her hips. “Though maybe I will go now—”
“No.”
She’s closer. Either I stepped forward, or she did, but I breathe in roses. I can make out the scar slicing through her left eyebrow and the stubborn gleam in her eye that I grudgingly admire. My hand moves, seemingly of its own accord, brushing along her cheek. Her eyes widen and a part of me tenses, expecting her to pull back. She doesn’t. If anything, I swear I feel her lean in, letting my palm fully connect with her skin. “You will have to respectfully decline, Ms. King. And that is not a suggestion.”
She does pull back her eyes narrowing. “And why is that, Mr. Bellamy?”
“You have a previous engagement.”
That throws her off. She blinks and struggles to hide her confusion by pursing her lips. “I wasn’t aware of any—”
“Another chance to earn your retainer,” I say, cutting over her.
“Like how? And shouldn’tyougo to the party? Aren’t you trying to—”
“This is more important.” Nothing trumped out-maneuvering Adrian Riley. Nothing. If he plans on setting her up with another man to needle me, he has another damn thing coming.
“You will meet me in the lobby tomorrow at six p.m. sharp,” I tell her, turning on my heel. It’s a stupid plan. It’s a foolish plan. It’s the only one guaranteed to keep her out of Riley’s crosshairs. He won’t dare toy with her life then. “I’ll sleep at the office tonight.”
“And what if I decide to leave?” she counters.
I snap my jaw shut. Given that here she has safety, security, and access to luxury, I can’t think of why she might want to go elsewhere. Except, of course, to cavort with Adrian Riley or one of his pawns in secret.
“I’m asking you to stay,” I finally choke out. “Can you give me that much? Just hear me out.”
She releases a haughty sigh, but I can feel her guard lower. “Ok. I’ll be ready at six p.m.”
“Good.” She doesn’t say anything when I leave, which makes matters worse because I can practically feel the questions ripe to explode from her.
After all, when I lay out the details of this next “plan,” I know that the most formidable opponent in my way will be none other than Evelyn King herself.
But I intend to earn her agreement, no matter the cost.
Or the risk involved.
* * *
In the quiet seclusion of my office, reality sets in. If I intend to shelter Evelyn King from Riley’s machinations, there are several hurdles to clear first. Gloria will need to be notified, of course, as for the only other Bellamy whose opinion matters… Luckily, despite it being the middle of the night here, I’m sure it’s early morning wherever the hell she’s traveled to now. As I fish out my mobile, I’m prepared to spend at least an hour tracking her down. To my utter shock, she picks up on the first ring within forty-five minutes—after I’ve gone through about three of her personal assistants for the right number.
“Hello?”
“Stella, it’s Graeme. I need your opinion on something.”
“Brother, darling!” She sighs, and I swear I hear goats bleating in the background. Given how distant her voice sounds, I suspect she isn’t even holding the damn cell to her ear. “Perhaps Mum forgot to tell you, but I’m a bit busy on a trip of self-enlightenment. If it’s about the spring collection, just forward your concerns to my personal assistant—”
“No,” I snap. “This is about something else.”
Amid a crackle of static, I hear her reply, “About the company?”
“You could say that… What would you say if I told you I was thinking of marriage?”
