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She wrinkles her forehead. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.” My voice roughens. “Nothing about this should make you feel better. I fucked up.”
She looks away.
God, I want to go to her, touch her face, force her eyes back to mine, make her believe I can fix what just happened.
But I stay where I am as the camera watches.
And a darker thought settles in my head.
If my father wants Delaney dead for distracting Samson, he’ll want Ella dead for distracting me.
My blood turns cold.
Ella is becoming the same thing.
A weakness.
Damn.
I can’t let it happen. Arthur Vexley will only move if he knows. If he believes this is more than lust. If he sees attachment. If he sees me choose her.
Security feeds route to the main monitoring room. Some archives are automatic. Some are flagged by motion detection. Some rooms record continuously. Others only when sensors activate.
This bedroom?
I can’t remember.
Fuck.
I stop at the edge of the bed. “Get dressed,” I say softly. “Take the service stairs to your room. Do not let anyone see you in this wing.”
“But…I was supposed to be here today. Something about the bathrooms…”
“Do as I say,” I hiss.
She narrows her eyes. “You take me and then order me around?”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
She drops her jaw. “Nath—”
“Please,” I say. “I need you out of this room. I need you away from that camera. Away from anyone who may come looking if the feed was flagged.”
Then I turn toward the door.
I leave before I kiss her again.
Before I touch her.
Before I make the mistake worse by proving to the camera that I can’t walk away from her.
The hallway is empty when I step out. I close the bedroom door softly behind me and move quickly.
Then I remember.
My belt is still on the bedroom floor.
