back out to find Aimee and braced myself for the fight that was about to ensue. I knew full well I didn’t want a bride any more than she wanted to be one. “Life’s a bitch…” For some reason, I just couldn’t bring myself to finish that quote.
Chapter Twelve
Aimee
As Keshaun stepped inside Renée’s room, I went to the ladies’ room—not missing Ray’s watchful eyes following me. It was unnerving to have security everywhere I went. Could I live with this for the rest of my life? No. Question was, how to evade Caleb? The phrase “in over your head” instantly came to mind. Crap. That was me in a nutshell. Either I marry the ogre or he’d harm those I loved. Seriously, what options were left? Nik could not continue with the constant surveillance. Caleb would eventually figure out a way around it. The one saving grace was that he didn’t know my parents’ last name. Yes, Taylor is my legal name, although most knew me by Lockhart—which had been assumed for privacy. Nonetheless Bill’s my stepfather—and the man I’d called Daddy my entire life—hence Mitchell being my mother’s married name. Point was, no one but immediate family knew any of that. Reason was, my biological father, Mark Taylor, had been killed in a car accident when my mother was three months pregnant with me. She married Bill right before I was born; therefore, their identity was safe from prying eyes. I felt very grateful knowing they would be out of harm's way. Now it appeared, after the incident with Renée, Keshaun would protect his woman. So really, I only needed to worry about myself. Caleb’s beyond dangerous ; the little voice in my head reminded me. Yes, I did know that. Along with the obvious, no one was really secure if Caleb put his mind to it. Great. Back to square one.
After I finished my business and returned to the hallway, I spotted Nik casually leaning against the wall with one shoulder. Dang, he’s hot. When would I be unaffected by his looks? Never. I shook my head to clear it and then approached him. He appraised me for a moment before he asked, “Everything okay?”
“Fine. You ready to leave?”
He straightened to his full height and placed his hand on the small of my back. Electricity shot through me. I glanced at him in speculation, which caused him to remove his hand. Phew! At least he remembered our no contact vow, because I was in no mood to argue with him at the moment. He waved his hand for me to walk in front of him and requested, “Shall we?”
“Sure thing.”
*****
We approached his fancy sports car— what on earth is this thing? Ever the gentleman, he opened the passenger door and assisted me into the very low to the ground automobile. Once he gracefully sank his large body behind the wheel, I inquired, “What kind of car is this, anyway?”
Nik actually half-smirked. OMG! “A McLaren MP4-12C,” he replied with not a little awe in his voice.
Boys and their toys. Although I must confess, it was kind of cute to see his face all lit up like that. “You really are the quintessential multimillionaire, aren’t you?”
He cocked a brow. “Do you expect me to apologize for that?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Not really.”
He bobbed his head once. “Good.”
He whipped through the frenetic New York City traffic like it was nothing, handling the car like a professional. Once we arrived at the parking garage for his penthouse, my knuckles were white and cramping. On our way up in the elevator, I pivoted towards him. “Mind if I ask you something?”
He held my gaze intently. “You can ask.”
I nodded and theorized, “But it doesn’t mean you’ll answer.”
“I’ll try,” he ceded.
Really, what more could I ask for? Well, actually—“Will you tell me the truth?”
He looked affronted. “I’m not a liar, Aimee.”
“Fair enough.” I gathered my thoughts for a minute. We had arrived in the foyer before I spoke, “What happens now?”
“We need
Chapter Twelve
Aimee
As Keshaun stepped inside Renée’s room, I went to the ladies’ room—not missing Ray’s watchful eyes following me. It was unnerving to have security everywhere I went. Could I live with this for the rest of my life? No. Question was, how to evade Caleb? The phrase “in over your head” instantly came to mind. Crap. That was me in a nutshell. Either I marry the ogre or he’d harm those I loved. Seriously, what options were left? Nik could not continue with the constant surveillance. Caleb would eventually figure out a way around it. The one saving grace was that he didn’t know my parents’ last name. Yes, Taylor is my legal name, although most knew me by Lockhart—which had been assumed for privacy. Nonetheless Bill’s my stepfather—and the man I’d called Daddy my entire life—hence Mitchell being my mother’s married name. Point was, no one but immediate family knew any of that. Reason was, my biological father, Mark Taylor, had been killed in a car accident when my mother was three months pregnant with me. She married Bill right before I was born; therefore, their identity was safe from prying eyes. I felt very grateful knowing they would be out of harm's way. Now it appeared, after the incident with Renée, Keshaun would protect his woman. So really, I only needed to worry about myself. Caleb’s beyond dangerous ; the little voice in my head reminded me. Yes, I did know that. Along with the obvious, no one was really secure if Caleb put his mind to it. Great. Back to square one.
After I finished my business and returned to the hallway, I spotted Nik casually leaning against the wall with one shoulder. Dang, he’s hot. When would I be unaffected by his looks? Never. I shook my head to clear it and then approached him. He appraised me for a moment before he asked, “Everything okay?”
“Fine. You ready to leave?”
He straightened to his full height and placed his hand on the small of my back. Electricity shot through me. I glanced at him in speculation, which caused him to remove his hand. Phew! At least he remembered our no contact vow, because I was in no mood to argue with him at the moment. He waved his hand for me to walk in front of him and requested, “Shall we?”
“Sure thing.”
*****
We approached his fancy sports car— what on earth is this thing? Ever the gentleman, he opened the passenger door and assisted me into the very low to the ground automobile. Once he gracefully sank his large body behind the wheel, I inquired, “What kind of car is this, anyway?”
Nik actually half-smirked. OMG! “A McLaren MP4-12C,” he replied with not a little awe in his voice.
Boys and their toys. Although I must confess, it was kind of cute to see his face all lit up like that. “You really are the quintessential multimillionaire, aren’t you?”
He cocked a brow. “Do you expect me to apologize for that?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Not really.”
He bobbed his head once. “Good.”
He whipped through the frenetic New York City traffic like it was nothing, handling the car like a professional. Once we arrived at the parking garage for his penthouse, my knuckles were white and cramping. On our way up in the elevator, I pivoted towards him. “Mind if I ask you something?”
He held my gaze intently. “You can ask.”
I nodded and theorized, “But it doesn’t mean you’ll answer.”
“I’ll try,” he ceded.
Really, what more could I ask for? Well, actually—“Will you tell me the truth?”
He looked affronted. “I’m not a liar, Aimee.”
“Fair enough.” I gathered my thoughts for a minute. We had arrived in the foyer before I spoke, “What happens now?”
“We need
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