Page 19 of Bossy Wicked Prince

“Everything okay?” she asks, picking up on my mood and probably thinking the shift is because of her.

I may not be able to let her stay here, but it’s not like I want a roommate, either. I’ve never had one before, and something tells me this one in particular is not a good idea. John better work his magic fast. The sooner I can get her out of my condo, the better. I can’t afford the distraction. Not with some of the biggest deals of my career on the table.

I clear my throat and wave an arm toward my Porsche 911. “Yeah. Everything’s good. Shall we?”

6

CAT

It’s weird walking into the building with Nate next to me. I feel like the few people filtering through the lobby are all staring at us, wondering what a waitress is doing with the scowling billionaire.

Trust me. I don’t know, either.

Nate swipes his card in front of the private elevator sensor, calling it down to the lobby. “I’ll get you a copy of my card tomorrow, so you can let yourself up when you need to.”

“You don’t need to do that. I won’t be staying long, anyway. I’ll call my friend Pippa tomorrow, and I’m sure she’ll let me stay with her till the door gets fixed.”

Nate’s lips purse. “Where does Pippa live?”

“She’s got a place out in Scarborough.”

He raises his brows. “Won’t that make it hard to get to work?”

“There’s trains and buses. I’ll manage.”

The elevator dings as it arrives back at the lobby. Nate scans his card and presses the “7” button.

“Don’t bother your friend. Just stay in my guest room,” he says. “It doesn’t make sense for you to stay all the way out there when you can just stay in the same building where you work.”

I shake my head. “No, I couldn’t impose like that.”

“It’s fine. I’m always working, so I’m never home anyway. You’ll basically have the place to yourself.”

I can’t argue with that. I know that I should, because I’m about to impose on a guy I only met a few days ago. Maybe if I wasn’t so tired I could come up with a good reason not to accept his invitation, but right now, what he’s saying makes sense. Besides, I can always call Pippa tomorrow if I change my mind.

“Okay. Thank you.”

Unsurprisingly, he grunts in response.

When the elevator doors open, the lights in Nate’s apartment flicker on automatically. My first impression of the place is cold. Not in temperature, but in style. Pale halos of dim light hover over the couches and kitchen, but otherwise the place is completely dark. The furniture, rugs, and occasional painting are monochrome and expensive-looking, but not exactly welcoming. Kind of like Nate himself, I guess.

“Do you need anything? Something to eat or some tea?” he asks.

“Maybe just some water. It’s late, so I should really just go to bed.”

He nods and walks over to the kitchen area.

“Why don’t you sit down?” he says, gesturing to the stools at the kitchen island. “You look tired.”

I drop my bag on the floor and take a seat. I’d planned to just take my water to my room, but maybe Nate’s one of those uptight people who thinks liquids stay in the kitchen.

Nate opens one of the cupboards, only to find stacks of plates. The next cupboard is completely empty. It takes him two more tries to actually find the cups.

“No wonder you wanted me to sit down,” I tease. “This is going to take a while.”

He shrugs. “I told you I’m never home.”

When he opens the fridge door, there’s a bottle of expensive vodka and nothing else. He frowns. “I thought I had a Brita pitcher in here.”