I take a huge sip of water, then set the cup down, scooping at it with my hand and splashing some on my face. “This can’t be real, this can’t be real.” But before she reveals his second secret, I already know what it is.
Me.
She continues her defaming story, “Mr. Morrow’s second secret, and one that takes him off our books as an eligible bachelor is his newfound love interest, Katie Davis. This young woman is a local romance author who apparently was looking for a little romance of her own. Or just a quick buck.”
A quick buck? Who does she think she is? I remember she’s just reporting what she’s been told. Who told her about me?
She continues, her tone somber. “We have word from our source that she’s staying in this hotel,” the newscaster points up and the camera angles to the top floor, “and is a guest in Mr. Morrow’s penthouse as we speak.”
I rush to the front windows of the hotel, looking down. There on the ground, I see the news vans. The reporters. The crowds.
“Oh no! What do I do?” I look left and right at my belongings strewn across the room, my computer on the dining table. This is going to be humiliating for him. I’m his dirty little secret and now it’s out in the open. I think of how much I care for him. How much I want to be with him.
I click off the television. Slumping down in my chair, I replace the dome over the plate, the smell of food suddenly making me sick.
There’s no way he’ll want me now. I should leave. I should pack up my stuff, create a disguise, and somehow sneak out of here, saving him the pain of having to kick me out.
I want to do what’s best for him. I hate that he’s been forced into a negative spotlight because of me.
Fifteen minutes later, I’ve got two heavy bags over my shoulders, my laptop in my backpack on my back. On my face I wear a massive pair of sunglasses that Darius’ fashion consultant talked me into on our shopping spree, telling me, you never know when you’ll be whisked away to somewhere sunny. On my head, I’ve got a towel wrapped like a turban.
Over my body, I’ve layered as many of the beautiful new clothes I could so I wouldn’t have to carry as much, and they’ve offered me a wonderful bulky shape to cover up my own body. On top of all that, I tie a big white bathrobe over my body.
I’ll look just like a guest leaving the spa, headed towards her room. No one will give me a second glance. My hand on the doorknob, I take one last look around the room, memorizing my temporary paradise. “Goodbye, penthouse. And goodbye, daddy.”
I open the door slowly, ready for paparazzi to pounce.
Instead, I find Darius, just about to enter the apartment. He scowls at me, and my pulse races. “Katie? Is that you under there?”
Damn. So much for sneaking out. I reach up, straightening my glasses. “Yes, it's me.”
He gives me a stern look, raising one brow. “What are you doing? Where are you going?”
He hasn’t heard yet.
And I have to be the one to break the news.
“The hotel is surrounded by news cameras. There’s been a story. One about you and me and—”
He cuts off my words, taking the heavy bags from my shoulders. “I know. That’s why I’ve come back up so soon, to check on you. Let’s get you into the room.”
His arm is heavy around my shoulders, grounding me.
He takes me into the bedroom, unwrapping the towel from my head. Taking the sunglasses from my face. Helping me out of the many layers of clothing as he carefully hangs them back up in the closet. “Where were you going?”
His eyes flash at me.
“I don’t know. I just thought you’d want me out of here when the story broke. I didn’t want to cause more trouble for you.”
“You weren’t leaving because you didn’t want to have anything to do with me now that that world knows?” he asks.
What? Why would I do that? All I want to do is be in his arms. I shake my head. “No. No way. I just… couldn’t imagine what stress this story was going to cause you and I assumed you wouldn’t want me here—”
He stops my words with a finger over my lips. “Assumptions are dangerous, little girl. Be sure not to make them. Especially ones about the way I feel about you.”
And his lips are on mine.
His kiss is reassurance, comfort, and passion.
It is not the kiss of a man who’s indifferent.
In this moment, in this embrace, my doubts melt away. I know he has feelings for me.
And that I want to stay beside him, as long as he will let me.