Page 12 of A Convenient Secret (Merged #3)

“Like a true James Bond. You saved me.” I try to lighten the tension, because Declan’s posture isn’t the only rigid thing. A bulge is growing in his pants, and I don’t know what to do.

Having this effect on him thrills me, but with my limited experience, I don’t quite know how to react in a way he’d welcome.

I might have inappropriate thoughts about him, but he is still my boss… Well, my client.

My words don’t make him laugh. He steps back like I stung him, steadying me with his hands. “You should go, Lily.”

His words are like a cold shower, sobering me. Reminding me who we are. That he might have indulged my presence, our conversation on a drunken Friday night, but that’s all this is.

“Yes,” I rasp.

“Let me get your glasses.” He turns and practically runs upstairs.

The sooner I get out of here, the better. I have no idea how to handle this man. He must be attracted to me. Unless he has some disease causing spontaneous erection. I should google it.

I walk over to the wall of windows and rest my forehead against the cool surface. What am I doing?

Why does this man make me feel all these things? I’m hot and thrilled one moment. In awe of him at times. Annoyed with him a minute later. And completely inadequate most of the time.

Okay, it’s time to behave like a well-adjusted adult and give up this unhealthy obsession with him.

It’s not like there is any chance of anything happening between us, and I need to start acting normal around him. I wouldn’t see him much after tonight, anyway.

When I hear him descending, I turn around, my back against the window. I fold my arms over my chest, because somehow it makes me stronger against him. Or protected from him. Regardless, I feel I stand taller.

“Don’t lean on the glass,” he scolds.

Fuck him. I roll my eyes, push off the glass, and snatch my glasses. “Good night, Declan.”

I start toward the entrance, hoping he will just go back upstairs. I don’t need him to witness my homelessness.

“Why are you wearing them?” His voice—that stupid voice—reaches me before I cross the room.

The question makes me pause, and I turn slowly, not sure if I’m frustrated or exhausted. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you wear your glasses? They are not prescription, and forgive me, but they are not really a fashion statement either.”

His hands are in his pockets as he stands casually in the middle of his kingdom, owning the air, owning the narrative, owning my dignity. And now, owning a small piece of my secret.

“It’s none of your business,” I snap and whip around.

“You look better without them,” he says, and grunts like the words cause him pain.

Just go away, for the love of God. But I don’t wait for him to leave anymore; I need to get out of here, and I no longer care if I add my current unresolved living situation to the list of humiliation this man has inspired.

Gripping the sleek handle, I yank the door of the closet, but it doesn’t budge. I shake it again.

Declan’s scent envelops me as he reaches from behind me and pushes at the wooden surface. The door clicks open.

Goddammit. I can’t catch a break tonight.

His proximity sends shivers down my spine. Stupid, treacherous body, we’re leaving. Forever. Don’t get any ideas.

Stepping to the side, I pull the handle toward me to fully open the closet, and graze Declan’s shoulder in the process.

Graze is a diplomatic way to put it; I pretty much hit him with his door. As a thank you for helping me open it. And for not having me fired this week. Good job, Lily.

He doesn’t flinch or acknowledge the attack. I’m mildly aware of my irrational agitation, but him finding out my glasses are fake… What if he snoops around to see what else is fake?

He wouldn’t. He doesn’t have time. Nor does he care enough about me. But still, it was a close call. I need to be more careful.

“What is that?” he asks as I haul my suitcase and box from the closet.

I sigh, closing my eyes briefly. It has been the longest night ever, and its ending negates all the pleasant parts. “I robbed you, obviously.”

He frowns. “Okay. Hopefully nothing I would miss.”

Is he cracking jokes now? I try to load the box on top of my suitcase, but it keeps sliding. By now I have tears in my eyes, the effort to get out of here frustrating me.

“Let me help you.” He picks up the box. “Can I get my driver to take you somewhere?”

Jesus. My mind scrambles for a reasonable way out. Unfortunately, it settles on verbal diarrhea as my best shot at saving my dignity. I snatch the box from him .

“My landlady threw me out, and I was busy with the kids and forgot to arrange a weekend stay with Cora… I should have called her. Also, you’re too busy to be helping me with this…

I don’t want to be a burden… I should have moved my things to Cora’s this afternoon, and I didn’t, and now it’s late.

And I just really want to leave. This is not your problem… I’m fine. I’m really fine—”

“Lily.” His voice is a warning, and I halt. “Are you telling me you have nowhere to go?”

I nod, heat scorching my cheeks. The stupid glasses slide from my nose, but my hands are full. I’m painfully aware I must look deranged after my confession.

He snatches the box from me, tackling it effortlessly under his arm and grabbing my suitcase in his other hand. “You’ll stay here tonight.”

It’s not a polite offer. It’s a decision he made for me. He doesn’t even wait to see if I follow as he carries my things.

Sighing, I decide not to argue. It’s not like I have other choices. As much as I hate not having choices, I got myself into this mess.

I’ll set my alarm for five and get out of here before they are up.

With that solution in mind, I trudge after Declan upstairs. He opens the door of a luxurious guest room and puts my things down .

“There is an en-suite bathroom. You should have everything you need here, but if not, you know your way around the house.”

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to…” Okay, shut up now, Lily.

He looks at me deadpan. “Good night, Seagull.”

He rasps the nickname like it pains him, but somehow, his using it makes everything just marginally better. Like everything is okay, even though the night has been full of weird twists and turns.

I watch him leave, allowing myself one last time to ogle his solid, lean behind, and a smile almost returns to my face.

It dies when he reaches the door and, without turning, issues an ominous warning. “Lock your door, Lily.”