“You said I didn’t hit a million followers until an hour ago. You managed to get this watch and come home in that time?”
He responded with an elegant shrug. “I have good contacts.”
My default was trust, but I tasted the bitterness of his lie on my tongue.
The diamonds dug deeper grooves into my skin before I loosened my grip.
“It’s gorgeous, and I appreciate the sentiment, but I can’t take this.” I held out the watch.
I wished I could’ve kept it, but I’d always wished for things I couldn’t have.
Love. Affection. Worthiness. Something deep and unconditional that I could call my own.
In the grand scheme of things, a watch was nothing. It was beautiful, and I hated how much I wanted something that meant nothing, but it was only an accessory. If someone wanted it, they could buy it.
Those other things, no amount of money could buy.
Christian’s expression flickered for the first time since he entered. “I gave it to you. It’s yours.”
“I’m giving it back. It’s too much,” I said firmly. “This is a diamond watch, Christian. It must be worth tens of thousands of dollars.”
“Ninety-two thousand, six hundred.”
I flinched at both the number and his cool tone.
“It’s only money. I have plenty of it.” Christian’s brows dipped into a V. “I thought you’d like it. You said you needed a new watch.”
I had said that. It’d been an off-the-cuff comment I made weeks ago.
I couldn’t believe Christian remembered it.
“If I wear this, I’ll get robbed the instant I step out of the house. Even if I don’t…” I dragged a breath through my compressed lungs.
The oxygen stoked flames of old frustration until they incinerated my inhibitions and the rest of my words spilled out.
“It’s not just the watch. It’s everything. Our arrangement, my bodyguard, living here rent-free, taking your jet to New York. I feel like I’m your mistress, except we’re not having sex. You’re not my boyfriend. I’m not sure if we’re even friends. So tell me, why are you doing all this? And don’t tell me it’s to congratulate me on my follower count or because you feel guilty someone broke into my apartment. I’m an optimist, not an idiot.”
If it were anyone else, I would suspect Christian was trying to lure me into some weird sexual arrangement. But he was rich and gorgeous enough that he didn’t need to lure anyone into anything. People lined up to do his bidding without him having to ask.
Why was he giving me special treatment when he barely knew me?
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The deafening march of the seconds passing by on the wall clock matched the muscle jumping in Christian’s jaw.
Not a word, only silence.
He was a vault, brimming with secrets and sealed with a lock not even a master thief could pick. Danger pulsed around him, screaming at me to stop and turn back before it was too late.
Like a reckless fool, I forged on.
“I don’t expect you to answer. You never do. But, while I’m grateful for your help with the stalker, I can’t take anymore from you than I already have.”
I held the watch out further. His hands remained at his sides, but the weight of his stare was a physical press against my skin.
“We signed a contract, but the boundaries have blurred since I moved in. It’s time we revert to the original terms of our agreement. We’re together in public only, for mutually beneficial reasons, and we’re housemates until we find my stalker and put him behind bars. That’s all we are. Nothing more, nothing less.”
The words stacked up like bricks in the wall I was building between him and my misguided heart.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Only my ragged breaths interrupted the agonizingly slow pass of time.
My feet hadn’t moved an inch since Christian came home, but my chest heaved like I’d just climbed Mount Everest.
“Nothing more, nothing less.” His lazy repetition of my words sent a shiver of unease down my spine.
My throat was too tight to allow sufficient air through. Everything around us buzzed with a ceaseless, dangerous hum, like a warning before a storm.
He took a step toward me. I took an instinctive step back, and another, and another, until my lower back hit the couch and my heart beat hard enough to bruise.
“Is that what we are, Stella? Housemates who are seeing each other for mutually beneficial reasons?” The question was velvety soft, but his eyes glinted like the edge of a freshly sharpened blade.
Christian’s palms sank into the cushions on either side of me, effectively caging me in.
It took all my willpower not to shrink into myself so I didn’t touch him. One graze, and I would combust into flames. I was sure of it.
But I refused to give him the satisfaction of hiding, so I lifted my chin and tried not to think about the mere inches separating my body from his.
“That’s all we’re supposed to be.”
“I didn’t ask you what we’re supposed to be. I asked you what we are.”
“You never answer my questions,” I said defiantly. “Why should I answer yours?”
The hum intensified, sweeping over us like a tidal wave over the shore. Christian’s eyes darkened until the pupils nearly obscured the molten gold of his irises.
“Your questions.” The cruel cut of his smile injected ice into my veins, and I suddenly regretted asking him anything at all. “You want to know why, Stella? Why I gave you the watch, why I moved you into my house, my sanctuary, when I’ve lived alone for over a decade and had planned to do so for the rest of my life?”
Every word spiked my blood with adrenaline until I was drowning in it. In him. In this wild vortex I’d sucked us into with no escape route in sight.
“It’s because you haven’t looked me in the eye since New York. Because you’re all I can fucking think about no matter where I am or who I’m with, and the thought of you hurt or upset makes me want to raze this city to the ground.” Soft, almost desperate viciousness coated his voice. “I’ve never wanted someone more, and I’ve never hated myself more for it.”
The vortex dragged me deeper, submerging me beneath the waves of a thousand different emotions. Any words I might’ve spoken were too tangled up in my chest to escape.
A bitter smile slashed across that heartbreaking face. “That’s fucking why.”
In a cool brush of air, Christian was gone.
The door slammed shut behind him, and I collapsed against the couch, the watch dangling from my fingers and the ruins of the world as I knew it at my feet.
CHRISTIAN
Valhalla on a Fridaynight was pure debauchery, but instead of partaking in the high-stakes poker game at the casino or indulging at the gentleman’s club in the basement, I threw back my sixth drink at the bar.
Scotch, self-loathing, and anger burned through my blood while the brunette next to me chattered on.
Three hours and twice as many drinks hadn’t thawed the black ice coating my veins since I left Stella alone in the apartment. Neither had the women fluttering around me, all of them beautiful and accomplished in their own right.
A cosmetics tycoon. A candy heiress. A supermodel who seemed unconcerned about abandoning the media magnate she’d showed up with.
“I’m staying at a hotel nearby.” The model leaned closer until her low, throaty voice percolated through the din and into my ears. “Perhaps you’d like to join me?”
I ran a thumb along the rim of my glass and observed her in silence.
Her skin flushed a faint red beneath my scrutiny.
Part of me was tempted to take her up on her offer and drown my frustrations with heat and sex. That had been my plan when I’d started flirting with her.
But that was the problem. No supermodels or sex could erase Stella from my mind for a single fucking second.
Aggravation tunneled through my veins.
“Not interested.” My reply came out harsher than usual, and the aggravation deepened.
I needed to get the fuck out of here. I was too on edge. If I stayed, I was liable to do something I’d regret.
Before the model could respond, her date finally noticed she’d wandered off after he finished his conversation with another club member.
He barreled toward us, his face clouded with dark displeasure.
“Anya. I told you to stay by my side.” He closed a proprietary hand around her wrist and glared at me.
I stared back, bored.
Victor Black, CEO of a media empire consisting of dozens of trashy but widely read newspapers and websites.
He was also one of the more annoying members of Valhalla.
“Sorry.” Anya didn’t sound sorry at all.
“Harper.” Victor gave me a nasty grin. “Shouldn’t you be spending your Friday night with your girlfriend instead of flirting with another man’s date?”
My smile iced at the indirect mention of Stella.
If we weren’t in public…
“You’re right,” I said amicably. “Have fun with your date.”
Victor’s grin wavered at my agreeable response. A hint of panic crept into his eyes as I stood and dropped a hundred-dollar bill in the tip jar.
“Where are you…”