also notice something hard wedged up against my back, but there’s material between my naked body and the solid muscle pushing into me. And it feels like expensive material. Suit material. Bespoke suit material.
If I could, I’d move, but he has me in a vice grip, like he’s afraid I might escape while he’s snoozing. ‘Miller.’ I nudge him, and he groans a little, squeezing me harder. ‘Miller!’
‘Thing,’ he mumbles sleepily, nuzzling into my neck. ‘Hold that thought.’
He feels amazing, completely surrounding me, but my waking brain is quickly registering this to be a bad thing. ‘Miller, please!’
He releases me fast and retreats, giving me space to sit up and brush my hair from my face. I immediately flinch on a quiet hiss when I brush harshly over my cut, the pain quickly reminding me of my injury.
‘Olivia.’ He’s in front of me quickly, holding my arms to keep me in place, but I shrug him off. ‘Does it hurt?’ he asks softly, giving me the space I’m demanding.
I allow my gaze to lift to his face, knowing it’ll be a bad move, but his magnet eyes are far too powerful. He still looks beautiful, despite his tired face and mess of waves. His eyes are dull, his fully suited body is creased beyond creased, and his lightly tanned skin looks sallow. ‘Not as much as you’ve hurt me,’ I half sob, trying to combat the tears from falling. ‘Get out!’
He drops his eyes, and I get off the bed, escaping to the shower. I can’t look at him. I’ll cave.
The water feels like stabbing blades on my sore head as I tentatively lather up with shampoo, then smooth some conditioner through the ends, all the while reminding myself of everything William has said to me. I take my time, in no hurry to start my day, and by the time I’m done, I expect Miller to be gone, but as I walk into the bedroom wrapped in a towel, he’s sitting on the edge of my bed, still dishevelled. And he has a cup of tea in his hand.
‘Does Nan know you’re here?’
‘Yes.’
Of course she does , I think. Who else produces tea like it’s going out of fashion? ‘You had no right to invade my bed.’ I slam the door behind me for effect, not that it has an effect. He remains deadpan, completely unruffled.
‘I needed you in my arms. You would never allow it while you were conscious, so I used my initiative.’ He shows no remorse for his sly stunt, taking a slow sip of his tea while I look on, stunned, struggling against my body’s instinct to react to those lips in action.
‘Are you going to break in every night and violate my privacy?’
‘If I have to.’
I’m on dangerous ground. I’ve been on the receiving end of his determination on more than one occasion. I need to stay strong. Memories of the loving, worshipping Miller I remember between the emotional retard are slipping further away. ‘Why are you still here?’ I make my way over to my chair and negotiate the towel so I can slip some underwear and a T-shirt on.
‘Why are you all bashful?’
I swing around and find his roving eyes dragging up and down my legs. He looks conceited and victorious, and that makes me feel . . . defeated. ‘I’d like you to leave.’
‘I’d like you to give me the opportunity to talk. But we don’t all get what we want, do we?’ He stands and makes his way over.
‘I’ll slap you if you come any closer!’ I snap, feeling panic descending as I back away. Damn it, he’s going to have me up against the wall and at his mercy but, to my utter shock, he drops to his knees in front of me and looks up, the arrogance disappearing and genuine regret replacing it.
‘I’m on my knees, Olivia.’ His hands slowly lift and slide cautiously under my T-shirt to my bum, like he’s expecting me to shout at him to stop. I would if I could find my tongue. Blue eyes watch me as he reaches forward with his lips and rests them on the material covering my tummy. ‘Let me put right what I’ve broken.’
‘That’s me,’ I
If I could, I’d move, but he has me in a vice grip, like he’s afraid I might escape while he’s snoozing. ‘Miller.’ I nudge him, and he groans a little, squeezing me harder. ‘Miller!’
‘Thing,’ he mumbles sleepily, nuzzling into my neck. ‘Hold that thought.’
He feels amazing, completely surrounding me, but my waking brain is quickly registering this to be a bad thing. ‘Miller, please!’
He releases me fast and retreats, giving me space to sit up and brush my hair from my face. I immediately flinch on a quiet hiss when I brush harshly over my cut, the pain quickly reminding me of my injury.
‘Olivia.’ He’s in front of me quickly, holding my arms to keep me in place, but I shrug him off. ‘Does it hurt?’ he asks softly, giving me the space I’m demanding.
I allow my gaze to lift to his face, knowing it’ll be a bad move, but his magnet eyes are far too powerful. He still looks beautiful, despite his tired face and mess of waves. His eyes are dull, his fully suited body is creased beyond creased, and his lightly tanned skin looks sallow. ‘Not as much as you’ve hurt me,’ I half sob, trying to combat the tears from falling. ‘Get out!’
He drops his eyes, and I get off the bed, escaping to the shower. I can’t look at him. I’ll cave.
The water feels like stabbing blades on my sore head as I tentatively lather up with shampoo, then smooth some conditioner through the ends, all the while reminding myself of everything William has said to me. I take my time, in no hurry to start my day, and by the time I’m done, I expect Miller to be gone, but as I walk into the bedroom wrapped in a towel, he’s sitting on the edge of my bed, still dishevelled. And he has a cup of tea in his hand.
‘Does Nan know you’re here?’
‘Yes.’
Of course she does , I think. Who else produces tea like it’s going out of fashion? ‘You had no right to invade my bed.’ I slam the door behind me for effect, not that it has an effect. He remains deadpan, completely unruffled.
‘I needed you in my arms. You would never allow it while you were conscious, so I used my initiative.’ He shows no remorse for his sly stunt, taking a slow sip of his tea while I look on, stunned, struggling against my body’s instinct to react to those lips in action.
‘Are you going to break in every night and violate my privacy?’
‘If I have to.’
I’m on dangerous ground. I’ve been on the receiving end of his determination on more than one occasion. I need to stay strong. Memories of the loving, worshipping Miller I remember between the emotional retard are slipping further away. ‘Why are you still here?’ I make my way over to my chair and negotiate the towel so I can slip some underwear and a T-shirt on.
‘Why are you all bashful?’
I swing around and find his roving eyes dragging up and down my legs. He looks conceited and victorious, and that makes me feel . . . defeated. ‘I’d like you to leave.’
‘I’d like you to give me the opportunity to talk. But we don’t all get what we want, do we?’ He stands and makes his way over.
‘I’ll slap you if you come any closer!’ I snap, feeling panic descending as I back away. Damn it, he’s going to have me up against the wall and at his mercy but, to my utter shock, he drops to his knees in front of me and looks up, the arrogance disappearing and genuine regret replacing it.
‘I’m on my knees, Olivia.’ His hands slowly lift and slide cautiously under my T-shirt to my bum, like he’s expecting me to shout at him to stop. I would if I could find my tongue. Blue eyes watch me as he reaches forward with his lips and rests them on the material covering my tummy. ‘Let me put right what I’ve broken.’
‘That’s me,’ I
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