“And when have I ever given you the impression that you bother me?”
He pushes away from the wall and me, and I’m sure this is the part where he’s going to tell me to get the hell off his property, but surprisingly, he stands back, staring down at me, before he jerks his chin over his shoulder.
“Come on. Unless you’re suddenly ready to go back to your own suite?”
He raises a brow in challenge, and the butterflies take flight in my belly. I take his offered hand and follow him back toward the penthouse floor.
Well, that was easy. Almost too easy.
The penthouse suite is much like it was the last time I was here, only now, there’s this weird tension in the air. I know why it’s there. He knows why it’s there.
He knows I was lying.
He doesn’t trust me.
And rightfully so. I’ve given him no reason to, not with my shitty, half-assed explanation.
He starts pouring me a glass of wine, and I follow him silently as he leads us out onto the balcony with his pool. The fireplace that lines the edge of the property is on, and if things had gone differently tonight, I’d describe it as cozy out here. I’d probably bask in being near him. But now, I’m worried. Worried that I’ve fucked it all up.
I knew it was too easy.
Leaning back on one of the loungers, I take the offered glass. My first gulp is a healthy swig that drains the majority of the glass. I twist the stem anxiously in my fingers, chewing on my bottom lip in contemplation.
“I lied,” I blurt out.
“I know.” His response has me spinning toward him wide-eyed. He doesn’t seem angry. He has a tumbler filled with amber liquid, and he’s looking out at the view or maybe the fire. It could be either one.
“But not for the reasons you think.”
His face tightens, creating deep frown lines. “Enlighten me then.”
I slam my eyes shut, hating myself for what I’m about to do, but at this point, there’s truly no other way.
I take another swig and clear my throat. “Two years ago, I met a guy. One who changed my life. At first, it was in the best of ways. He was … funny, charming, and extremely handsome. He was out of my league. I knew it at the time, and I think that was where I went wrong. I tried to hold on to him. I tried to morph myself into who he wanted me to be. When I first met him, I thought he was perfect for me, but I was wrong. He ruined me. Ruined every part of me.”
I can feel his gaze on me, and I know I’ve got his attention. With each lie that slips from my lips, I feel more and more disgusted with myself. This was always the plan. To lie to get what I want. To lie to learn and glean the information I needed. But why now, when I’m lying to Baz, does it feel so incredibly wrong?
If that was what it took to get the answers I needed, I’d do that—that was my motto before, but now? Now, I’m so confused.
“Somewhere along the line, there was a change in our relationship. He wasn’t charismatic anymore but angry. He was no longer charming; instead, he was harsh and cold. His looks never faltered, but I slowly started to see who he really was. He was ugly on the inside. He was abusive. He abused me during our entire relationship, and I didn’t see it.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Baz’s grip tighten on the tumbler as he brings it to his lips. He’s silent for a beat and so am I. I haven’t made the point I need to yet, but I needed something believable; a backstory few people will question.
“A year ago, I finally had the courage to leave him, but he hasn’t made it easy. His threats haven’t made it easy. I can feel him watching me even when I know I shouldn’t. Sometimes, I think it’s my paranoia, but other times, I don’t think it is. I coerced one of your employees to give me access to the security room on the lower level. I needed to … I wanted to feel safe. He assured me I was safe here, but I wanted the affirmation, and seeing it, seeing how well secured the resort is, put my mind at ease a bit.”
I stop there, not wanting to overdo it. That’s the only logical explanation I could think of. And if he doesn’t believe it, then I’m well and truly fucked.
Baz drains the rest of his glass, and I do the same as the silence hangs thick and heavy in the night air. Finally, I summon the courage to face him, and when I do, I can’t even mask my shock when I find he’s already watching me. He searches my face earnestly. The flames flicker across his sharp features, making him look even more severe than he usually does.
“He ever hit you?” Baz asks, his jaw taut with anger again. As if the thought of anyone’s hands on me, let alone in a violent manner, has him seething with rage.
I scoff into the night air, staring out at the glass fire pit. Like images on a pinwheel, everything from the past grips me. The way Marcus choked me. I imagine the way they hurt my sister, and I feel as though I’m suffocating.
“He almost killed me,” I rasp. “So yeah.” I place the glass on the table between us with a thud. “He hit me. He knew all the right places to make it hurt.”
“The name Scarlett … is that because of him, too?”
I nod, caught off guard by the connection made. “Sort of. Using my real name would make it easier for him to find me, but I wasn’t lying when I told you I wanted to be a different me. Now you know why.”
Baz watches me for several beats, and I let him. I let him look for whatever he needs to find in my expression. Eventually, he nods.
“Okay.”
My brows dip. “Okay?”
“Yeah. I can’t fault you for your past. I can fault my staff for being so lenient, though.”
My eyes widen, and I grip his forearm frantically. “No! You can’t do anything, please. He begged me not to ruin his job for him, and he was only trying to help me. He made me give the fob right back to him. So please, don’t fault him. He was only trying to help.” I lie.
Baz nods and gets to his feet. He sets his glass next to mine and reaches his hand out to me. Slowly, I take it, placing my palm in his with a questioning expression on my face.
“Come on. I want to show you something.” Behind his eyes, I can feel the command of his stare. He holds himself with such utter confidence that I have no choice but to oblige. My eyes chase the broad muscles in his neck that disappear under his sweater, making him look far too handsome for words.
My heart thrashes wildly as he leads us out of the penthouse and down the hall toward his office. Using his fob, he opens the door, and my eyes widen as I take in the ginormous space. It’s the Holy Grail. Everything I need access to. I take it all in. Slowly. Meticulously.
Everything is masculine. Dark wood. Clean spaces. Sleek and formidable, just like the man before me.
Off to the side are cabinets, which I assume hold the files he uses here for work. On the desk, there’s a manly lamp—if there was ever such a thing—some stacks of paperwork, and a laptop. I’m still standing over the threshold, taking everything in, when out of the corner of my eye, I see him settle in the chair, waking the screen. Keys click and the glare of the screen lights up his face.
He glances up, catching me watching him, while simultaneously trying to take it all in. His demeanor demands respect or, more likely, my capitulation. With the subtlest of nods, he beckons me over, and I close the distance without needing to hear the words. He pats his thighs, and my gaze shoots up to his, but I still lower myself onto his lap. On the screen are small squares, and my eyes widen as I take it all in. Apparently, he has his own security access, which makes sense, but I don’t understand why he’s showing me.