“It wouldn’t be difficult at all.” My gaze grew heavy-lidded as I perused her from head to toe. “But then I wouldn’t come home and find you waiting for me.” A sliver of toned stomach peeked out from under her cropped gray sweatshirt while matching terrycloth short shorts clung to her hips and thighs. An endless expanse of smooth, golden brown legs ended with bare feet and red-
polished nails. My throat ran dry. I yearned to run my hands up her body, to hear her sigh with pleasure as I explored the sleek contours of her curves. She was dressed for bed, with not a stitch of makeup on her face or jewelry adorning her limbs, but she glowed so brightly it reached the darkest corners of my soul. “I thought you didn’t want that.” Breathless nerves surfaced in her reply. “Don’t assume what I want, Ms. Alonso.” I kept my voice placid, almost disinterested, but there was nothing placid about the current crackling in the air. One touch, and the room would ignite. “Noted.” Stella’s fingers curled around the hem of her shorts until her knuckles whitened. My eyes dipped to her thighs, and desire flamed hotter in my veins when they clenched beneath my attention. It was a small movement, nothing more than a subtle tensing of her muscles, but she might as well have reached down and caressed the hardness aching at my groin. “You should leave,” I said softly, the words rough with restraint. She didn’t move.
“Unless…” I raised my hand and skimmed it down the side of her neck until I reached the frantic flutter of her pulse. “You want to stay.” I should stop touching her, and I should keep my distance, but I was mesmerized. Stella’s swallow was audible in the thick, condensed silence. “I don’t.” She wavered the tiniest bit on the word don’t. “No?” I grazed my thumb over her skin.
The small point of contact seared through flesh and bone until the heat spilled into my blood. I lifted my eyes to hers again, my voice hardening. “Then why are you still here?” Distraction.
Obsession. Confoundment. She was all those things and more. She should’ve been a simple puzzle to break apart and piece back together, but she was proving more complicated than expected. She was like a jigsaw missing one piece. No matter how hard I searched, I couldn’t find the missing piece, and until I did, she’d continue haunting my thoughts. There was, of course, another explanation, but I dismissed that one the second it surfaced. The one that told me I didn’t want to solve Stella Alonso, because once I did, the thread connecting us would be severed. And for some galling, unknown reason, I didn’t want it to be severed. She opened her mouth to respond, but I released her and stepped back, cutting her off without a word. “It’s time for you to leave.” It was no longer framed as a suggestion but an order. “Don’t let me find you in my apartment outside the permitted times again, or you’ll discover there are limits to my generosity.” Indulging her tonight was a mistake. I’d already bent too many rules for her. If it had been anyone else in my office, I would’ve punished them for the transgression, not fantasize about how their skin would feel against mine. Fire sparked in Stella’s eyes. I expected her to snap back, anticipated it the way an alcoholic anticipated his next sip of liquor. But the fire cooled almost as soon as it kindled, smothered beneath a layer of newly formed ice.
“Understood.” She reached into her pocket and retrieved a brass key, which she forced into my hand. “In fact, you won’t find me in your apartment again, period.” I didn’t realize how hard I was gripping the key until the jagged edge dug into my palm. The slam of the front door reverberated through the ensuing silence. I usually enjoyed the silence. It was peaceful and restorative, but now it seemed oppressive, like an invisible weight pressing against my chest.
The key sank deeper into my palm before I uncurled my hand and shoved it in my pocket. I stepped around the broken watering can and stalked to my room, where I yanked off my tie and tossed it on the bed. It didn’t ease the expanding tightness in my throat. Beneath the ice, Stella had been hurt. I’d glimpsed a kernel of it before her defenses kicked in. A strange pang hit my chest before I made an impatient noise. For fuck’s sake. I’d had a hell of a day. Not just with work, but with all the nosy fuckers in my life who swarmed all over me now that I was finally
“dating” someone. I didn’t have time to analyze microexpressions. I removed my cufflinks and my watch, which I placed parallel to each other on the nightstand. Understood. In fact, you won’t find me in your apartment again, period. What the hell did that mean? If she reneged on our rent deal… A muscle ticked in my jaw. I shouldn’t care. I didn’t even like the damn plants. I only kept them because my interior designer insisted they “pulled the aesthetic together,” and I refused to admit failure by letting them die. But it was the principle of the matter. I couldn’t set a precedent where people backed out of an agreement with me without consequences. The memory of the fleeting hurt in Stella’s eyes resurfaced like an annoying gnat that wouldn’t go away. “Dammit to hell.” With an annoyed growl, I abandoned my better instincts, slammed the bedroom door behind me, and made my way downstairs.
11
STELLA/CHRISTIAN
STELLA
Christian Harper had some nerve. Anger simmered in my stomach as I unlocked my apartment and opened the door with more force than necessary. It wasn’t an emotion I felt often, and it ate away at my insides like acid. I didn’t know why I’d reacted so strongly to Christian’s dismissal.
I’d heard worse from Meredith and the trolls in my comment sections. But there was something about the way he did it that clawed under my skin. One second, I thought he would kiss me. The next, he was kicking me out of his apartment. The man flipped hot and cold more often than a broken faucet. Worse, there’d been a moment when I’d wanted him to kiss me. When the curiosity over how that firm, sensual mouth would taste pulsed in rhythm to the ache between my thighs. Frustration twined with my anger. I didn’t know how he managed to pull so many dormant emotions out of me. Was it his looks? His wealth? Neither of those things had mattered to me before. I’d met too many rich, good-looking jerks to be suckered in by their false charm. I set my bag on a nearby table and forced my lungs to expand past the pressure. Confrontation always set me on edge. Even when I wasn’t in the wrong, I felt like I was. You won’t find me in your apartment again, period. The memory of my rash declaration erased any calming effect my deep breaths may have had. I’d “quit” in the heat of the moment. But as stupid as the deal was, I had promised him I would care for his plants in exchange for lower rent.
What if he raised my rent or, worse, evicted me? What if he ended our arrangement? I hadn’t heard from Delamonte yet, but I’d already gained ten thousand followers since I posted the photo of us on our way to the fundraiser. My account was growing for the first time in a year and ending our arrangement early would kill any momentum I had. No momentum equaled no growth equaled less money. Regret kicked my heart palpitations into overdrive. That was why I’d trained myself to suppress emotional outbursts. The consequences always overshadowed