Page 71 of Captive Audience

Greg Holbrook was powerful and connected in the journalism industry. If he went missing, it’d be a media frenzy. I didn’t want to see his face splashed all over the news, nor did I want to read headlines framing him in the most glowing terms. Hero. Pioneer. Advocate. Not predator. Not monster.

“I’m not ready,” I whispered. “Please, if you want to protect me, just leave it alone.”

Rook stared at me, a frown etched deep into his face. “For now.”

Then he sat up and gathered me into his lap. Those muscular arms wrapped around me as though I were made of fine glass.

“What are you doing?” I asked, stunned.

“Holding you.”

“Why?”

“Because you need me to, woman. Now, stop complaining and let me do this. Otherwise I’m going to feel like a proper shite for scaring you just now.” He smoothed my hair with his hand while I soaked up his warm embrace. “I’d never hurt you like that.”

“I know.”

“I’m still the same man you met at the bar, still the same man who worshiped you that night.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. Damn him for saying things like that. For sounding like he meant them.Even now, with my heart bruised and my trust shredded, Rook made me forget who we were to each other.

“But it was all a lie, Rook. None of it was real.”

“That’s a load of shite, and you know it.”

I…I didn’t know how to respond to that.

I wanted to deny it, to accuse Rook of more manipulation. But the truth was that small, unexpected pieces of this complicated man kept digging their way under my skin, making it harder to tell where lies ended and something real might begin.

He’d let me continue the podcast and built me the studio of my dreams.

He was protective of me—obsessively so—and I didn’t hate it.

He’d even bought me my favorite food despite the smell dragging him back to the moment he’d learned his brother had been murdered.

A brother he’d loved more than anything. A brother he still grieved and wanted to avenge.

I couldn’t fault him for that.

And yes, the night we’d spent together had been beautiful and amazing. If it had felt the same to Rook, what did that mean?

He sighed into my hair and kissed the top of my head. “I’m sorry for being an arse and making you afraid.”

“Thank you.” I moistened my lips. “Does that mean you’ll let me sleep on the floor?”

“Not a fucking chance.” He gripped me tighter.

I didn’t smile. Not exactly. But my lips twitched, and my chest loosened a little because his arms, God help me,didfeel good.

And that terrified me more than anything.

Boundaries, Asha. Set clear boundaries.

But then I remembered what Finn had said earlier. Rook had a woman in his life. Maybe I wasn’t the only one he demanded sleep beside him.

Something like jealousy churned inside me, sour and ugly. “Won’t your girlfriend have a problem with me sharing your bed?”

Rook stilled. “My what?”