‘Just until we have established who and why.’ He resumes chin on shoulder and strawberry slicing.
‘Who’s “we”?’
I definitely don’t imagine a hesitant pause before he answers. ‘You and I.’
I’m suspicious. I hate being suspicious. Suspicion is dangerous and it also spikes curiosity. And I hate curiosity, probably more than suspicion. ‘I can’t establish anything unless you give me the information, which you won’t, leaving you to establish things.’
‘Well, that’s how it should be,’ he states matter-of-factly, increasing that wretched suspicion and curiosity. ‘I don’t want your lovely mind worrying about it.’ He affirms his claim by pushing the knife through another strawberry and kissing my temple. ‘We’ll be leaving that line of conversation right there.’
‘Where?’ I ask on a roll of my eyes. I’ve been put firmly in my place, kind of, yet I can’t help a sarcastic quip.
‘There’s no ne—’
‘Miller,’ I sigh. ‘Loosen up!’ It’s one step forward, a million back.
‘I’m perfectly loose.’ He pushes his groin into my lower back and bites my neck, making me squirm and laugh, and just like that, he contradicts my previous thought.
‘Stop it!’ I gasp through my laughter.
‘Never.’
But he does stop, and I stop laughing instantly, too, snapping my head up in attention. ‘Was that a doorbell?’ I ask, intrigued. I’ve never heard the sound before.
‘I believe it was.’ Miller sounds as interested as I am.
‘Who could it be?’
‘Well, let’s find out.’ He prises my hand off the knife and lays it parallel to the chopping board before releasing me. Then he tidies his workstation quickly and efficiently and collects my folded knickers and T-shirt.
He takes my hand and paces through the apartment speedily. We’re in his dressing room in no time, and I hear the doorbell sound again as he mutters under his breath, something about disturbances. He pulls a pair of fresh black boxers on and actually begins to rotate the damn T-shirts while the doorbell rings persistently in the background. I’m silent and watching him grow more and more agitated by the second as he yanks his T-shirt on. He takes my hands and kisses my knuckles. ‘Take a shower.’ A chaste kiss is dropped on my forehead and he’s gone, leaving me standing like a plum in the middle of his dressing room, with curiosity my only companion. It’s bombarding me, and not prepared to remain alone for it to drive me nuts, I throw my knickers and a shirt on and follow quietly behind Miller, his long, powerful legs eating up the journey to his front door fast.
Aggression pours from him as he yanks the door open, and it only seems to multiply by a million when whoever’s on the other side is revealed. I can’t see, Miller’s tall frame is blocking my view, but judging from the ice that emanates from Miller’s refined physique, we don’t want to see this person.
‘You can f**k off now, or stay and allow me the pleasure of snapping every bone in your body.’ The hatred in his tone is profound. Frightening. Who is it? I watch Miller’s back heaving, steam virtually pouring from his ears. He’s going to take leave of his senses at any moment. Good God, hasn’t he listened to anything we’ve spoken about? He simply cannot control it.
‘I’ll stay.’
The man’s voice sets my heart racing in my chest. He’s come looking for me? Miller’s fists clench, making the veins of his arms bulge. Shit, he’s getting ready to charge. I move forward, conflicted – intervene or stay well away.
‘As you wish,’ Miller replies casually, like he hasn’t just committed to murdering our guest.
‘I wish you’d back off so my girl can think straight without your influence.’
Miller moves forward. It’s threatening and intended to be. My anxiety accelerates, as does my heart rate. ‘I’ll say this once,’ he seethes, fists clenching and releasing into balls. ‘I have never made Olivia do anything that she doesn’t want to. She belongs with me. She knows it. I know it, and you need to f**king know it, too. If I go anywhere, she’s coming with me.’
I find my courage and creep up behind Miller, sliding my palm onto his back before circling him and placing my body in front of his. A black eye, bruised cheek and split lip greet me.
‘Gregory,’ I breathe nervously, feeling Miller giving off all sorts of worrying vibes. He’s rigid against my back. ‘Are you okay?’
Brown eyes soften at my presence, his face almost relieved. ‘Amazing,’ he jokes, flicking a filthy look to Miller. ‘We need to talk.’
A strong palm grips my neck and begins massaging. If it’s an attempt to knead some of my anxiety out of me, then he’ll fail. It’s swirling through me uncontrollably. Nothing will lessen it, let alone eliminate it. ‘Talk, then,’ Miller orders.
‘Alone,’ Gregory hisses, eradicating any sniff of a hope I held that he was here to fix things with Miller. I feel helpless.
‘Hell will freeze over before I leave Olivia alone with you.’
‘Afraid she’ll leave you?’
‘Yes.’ Miller’s fast, brutally honest answer shocks me, and obviously Gregory, too, because no counter is coming Miller’s way.
Gregory’s eyes absorb me for a few thoughtful moments before he finds some words. ‘Would you like to talk alone?’ he asks, stiffening every muscle in my body. I do. I’m not afraid of what he will say or that he’ll try to convince me to leave Miller, which he probably will. It’ll be wasted energy, and Gregory must know this by now. He’s been pummelled twice for his dedicated interfering, and quite badly. He’s surely not going in for a third round. ‘Well?’ he prompts when I’m still standing silently, mentally figuring out how to handle this. Or handle Miller.