Unveiled
Page 33
I huff a sardonic puff of laughter and remove the waistcoat from the hanger, then proceed to help him into it. His chest is quickly close to mine again and my hands are being lifted to the buttons. I can do nothing more than as I’m bid, fastening up each button, then collecting his socks and tan brogues when I’m done. I kneel and rest my bum on my calves to get him into his socks and shoes, tying the laces before making sure the hems of his trouser legs are straight. And last is his jacket. It completes him. He looks spectacular, and his hair is now damp and the dark waves super wavy.
He looks divine.
Gorgeous.
Devastating.
‘You’re ready,’ I breathe, stepping back and pulling my towel in. ‘Oh!’ I quickly turn and scoop up his Tom Ford, not resisting a sniff from the bottle before I douse Miller at the neck. He lifts his chin for me again, his eyes boring into me as I spritz him. ‘Now you’re perfect.’
‘Thank you,’ he murmurs.
I replace the bottle, avoiding meeting his stare. ‘You don’t need to thank me.’
‘You’re right,’ he replies softly. ‘I need to thank whatever angel sent you to me.’
‘No one sent me to you, Miller.’ I face unimaginable beauty, my eyes squinting to prevent the image from burning my irises. ‘You found me.’
‘Give me my thing.’
‘I’ll crease you.’ I don’t know why I’m searching for excuses when I’m so desperate for him to hold me. Or maybe I do know.
I won’t be able to let go.
‘I’ve asked once.’ He steps forward gently but threateningly. ‘Don’t make me ask again, Olivia.’
My lips straighten and I shake my head. ‘I can’t bear the thought of releasing you. I won’t be able to.’
He winces and his blue eyes glaze over. ‘Please, I beg you.’
‘And I’m begging you not to force me.’ I stand firm, knowing I’m doing the right thing. ‘I love you. Just go.’
I’ve never been so challenged in my whole life. Maintaining my front is crippling me, and seeing Miller so unsure of what to do isn’t helping. His expensive shoes are rooted to the carpet, his eyes burning into mine, as if he’s trying to read past my forced hard exterior. This man can see into my soul. He knows what I’m doing and I’m screaming in my head for him to let me do it. My way. This has to be done my way.
The relief that attacks me when he slowly turns has my hand darting out to steady myself on the unit. He walks away slowly, the hurt building with each step he takes. I’m missing him already and he’s not even left the room yet. The urge to scream for him to stop nearly gets the better of me, and my feet are shifting beneath me, willing me to chase him down.
Be strong, Olivia!
Tears pinch the backs of my eyes and my heart slowly beats its way up to my throat. I’m in agony.
He stops at the door.
I hold my breath.
And I hear him draw his. ‘Never stop loving me, Olivia Taylor.’
He disappears.
My strength drains from my body and I crumple to the ground, but I don’t cry. Not until I hear the front door close. Then it all comes pouring from me like a waterfall. My back finds the unit, my knees meet my chest, and my head meets my knees, my arms wrapping around me, making myself as small as possible.
I cry.
For what seems like forever.
Tonight really is going to be the longest night of my life.
Chapter 23
An hour later, I’m on Miller’s squidgy couch after trying his bed, the lounge, the kitchen. The detailed cornice circling the ceiling is imprinted on my mind and I’ve relived every moment since I’ve met Miller. Everything. I’m smiling to myself each time I’ve pictured any one of Miller’s spellbinding traits, but then I’m cursing aloud when the image of Gracie Taylor intrudes on my attempts to distract myself. She doesn’t have a place in my thoughts or my life, so just the mere fact that she’s taking up any scrap of my thinking space is infuriating me. I haven’t the time or the energy to wallow in the added turmoil she could spike. She’s undeserving of any heartache I could allow myself to feel. She’s selfish. I hate her, except now I have a clear image – a face etched on my mind to hate.
I toss my body over on the couch, so I’m now staring out across the London skyline, and I’m wondering if my mind is purposely sending me down this line of thought. Am I subconsciously distracting myself from thinking about what’s happening right now? Is this anger better than the wretchedness I’m certain to feel if I allow my brain to focus on what Miller is doing right now?
I squeeze my eyes shut, mentally yelling at myself when Gracie is suddenly gone and the perfection of Miller before he left me in his dressing room replaces her. I can’t do this. I can’t sit here all night waiting for him to return. I’ll be certifiably crazy before the night’s over.
I jump up from the couch like it’s caught fire and hurry from Miller’s studio, being sure not to let my eyes catch sight of his paint table, knowing seeing myself spread on it won’t help. Neither will looking at the sofa in his lounge, or his bed, or the shower, or the fridge, or the kitchen floor . . .
‘Oh God!’ I reach up and tug a little at my hair in frustration as I turn in circles in the middle of the lounge, deliberating on where I should hide. The slight stabbing pain on my scalp only reminds me of Miller’s fingers knotted in my hair. I can’t escape.
Panic starts to attack me. I clench my eyes shut and start breathing deeply to calm my frantic heartbeats. I count to ten.
One.
All I can offer you is one night.
Two.
And I’m praying that you’ll give it to me.
Three.
I’ve told you, Livy. You fascinate me.
Four.
Are you ready to let me worship you, Olivia Taylor?
Five.
I’ll never do anything less than worship you. I’m never going to be a drunken fumble, Livy. Every time I take you, you’ll remember it. Each and every moment will be etched on that beautiful mind of yours forever. Every kiss. Every touch. Every word. Because that’s how it is for me.
Six.
This beautiful, pure girl has fallen in love with the big bad wolf.
Seven.
Never stop loving me.
Eight.
Accept me as I am, sweet girl. Because it’s so much better than what I was.
Nine.
You are my perfect, Olivia Taylor.
Ten.
I fucking love her! I love her. I love everything she stands for and I love how much she loves me. If any fucker tries to take her away from me, then I’ll fucking kill them. Slowly.
‘Stop!’ I dash to his room and seek out my clothes, throwing them on chaotically before snatching up my bag and pelting for the door. I start to dial Sylvie on my way, but my phone rings in my hand before I can call my friend.
Every instinct tells me to reject the call. There’s no name. Just a number. I recognise it, though. I pause at Miller’s front door, my hand on the handle, and connect the call. ‘Sophia,’ I breathe down the line, eliminating all caution from my tone.
‘I’m on my way to the airport,’ she says matter-of-factly, almost business-like.
‘And that would interest me because?’ It actually does interest me. She’s leaving the country? Good!
‘It will interest you, sweet girl, because Charlie has changed the plan. I need to leave before he finds out I’ve destroyed that footage and beats me beyond recognition.’
My hand shifts on the doorknob, my interest increasing, but now mixed with fear. She might have a resentful, nasty edge to her smooth voice, but she can’t hide the fear that’s lacing the edges of it. ‘Changed the plan how?’ My pulse is suddenly throbbing in my ears.
‘I heard him before I left. He’s not taking any chances with Miller. He can’t risk that jeopardising his deal.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Olivia . . .’ She pauses, like she’s
reluctant to give me the information. My stomach performs a full spin, making me feel instantly sick. ‘He’s planning on drugging Miller and feeding him to that vile Russian woman.’
‘What!’ I drop the door handle, staggering back. ‘Oh God.’ I start shaking. He won’t be able to kill Charlie. That thought alone has sent my worry into panic, but the added knowledge of what that woman could do to him has just catapulted that panic into terror. She’ll undo everything he’s worked so hard to fix. It will be like that video happening all over again. My throat starts to close off on me. I can’t breathe.
‘Livy!’ Sophia shouts, snapping me from mental meltdown. ‘Two, zero, one, five. Remember that number. You also need to know that I destroyed the pistol. I have a flight to nowhere. Call William. You need to stop Miller before you lose him forever.’ She hangs up.
I drop my phone and stare blankly at the screen. Before I can give any amount of reasonable time to consider my next move, I’m on my way to the door, panic flaming.
I need William. I need to know where the Temple is. But first I try Miller, shouting my despair when it goes to voice mail, so I hang up and try again. And again. And again. ‘Answer the phone!’ I scream, smashing the call button for the lift. He doesn’t. It goes to voice mail yet again and I try to gulp down some air to talk, praying he’ll pick up the message before accepting a drink at the Temple.
‘Miller,’ I pant down the line as the doors begin to open. ‘Call me, please. I’ve—’ My tongue turns to lead in my mouth and my body stills when the inside of the lift comes into view. ‘No,’ I whisper, stepping back from the source of my fear. I should turn and run, but my muscles have seized and are ignoring my brain’s screaming commands. ‘No.’ I shake my head.
I could be looking in the mirror.
‘Olivia.’ My mother’s navy eyes widen a little. ‘Olivia, baby, what’s the matter?’
I’m not sure what’s telling her that there’s more to my shock than simply finding her in the lift. I back away.
‘Olivia, please. Don’t run from me.’
‘Go away,’ I whisper. ‘Please, just go.’ I don’t need this. I don’t need her. I have far more important things that need my attention – things that deserve my attention, need my attention. My resentment begins to build at the prospect of her delaying me. If time wasn’t of the essence, I’d attack her with the sass I inherited from her. But I don’t have time for her. Miller needs me. I turn and rush to the stairs.
‘Olivia!’
I ignore her desperate cries and barge through the door, taking the concrete stairs two at a time. The loud clicks of her heels on the stone rings out around me, telling me she’s in pursuit, but I have Converse on and they win over heels any day of the week, especially when you’re in a hurry. I pass floor after floor as I fumble with my phone, trying to dial William as I try to escape my mother.
‘Olivia!’ She’s shouting and obviously short of breath. This only motivates me to sprint faster. ‘I know you’re pregnant!’
‘He had no right to tell you,’ I seethe as I rush down the stairs, my fear and worry converting into unrelenting fury. It’s eating me from the inside out, and while I’m scaring myself with how fast it’s taking over my body, I silently appreciate that it will probably do me a favour once I’m away from this selfish, harlot of a bitch and I make it to Miller. I need some fire in my belly and she’s stoking it perfectly.
‘He told me everything. Where Miller is, what he’s doing, and why he’s doing it.’
I skid to a stop and turn, seeing her slump against a wall, exhausted, though her white trouser suit still looks pristine, as does her bouncing, glossy waves. My defences fly up like iron and I curse William and his betraying arse to hell and back. ‘Where is the Temple?’ I demand. ‘Tell me!’
‘Not so you can walk into that carnage,’ she says, looking adamant.
I bite down on my tongue, praying for some calm. ‘Tell me!’ I scream, my sanity running away with me. ‘You owe me this! Tell me!’
She winces, hurt, but I can’t find any compassion for her. ‘Don’t hate me. I had no choice, Olivia.’
‘Everyone has a choice!’
‘Did Miller?’
I recoil, disgusted.
She steps forward tentatively. ‘Does he have a choice now?’
‘Stop it.’
She doesn’t. ‘Is he willing to do anything to keep you safe?’
‘Don’t!’
‘Would he end a life for you?’
I grip the stair rail, squeezing it until my hand is numb. ‘Please.’
‘I would.’ She moves closer still. ‘I did.’ I’m frozen in place. ‘My life ended the day I walked out on you, Olivia. I disappeared off the face of the earth to protect you, baby.’ She reaches me and I watch in shocked silence as her hand lifts carefully and comes slowly towards me. ‘I sacrificed my life so you could have yours. You weren’t safe with me in your life.’ Her soft touch rests on my arm, my eyes rooted on it as it drifts down my skin until she reaches my hand and squeezes gently. ‘And I’d do it all over again, I promise you.’
I’m immobilised, desperately searching for any insincerity in her voice or words. There’s none. All I hear are heartfelt words and a voice quivering with pain. Her fingers entwine with mine softly. We remain quiet. The barren concrete stairwell is cold, but there’s warmth spreading across my skin and settling deeply, and it’s all coming from her – the woman I’ve spent the best part of my life hating.
She fiddles with my sapphire ring on the underside of my hand for a few moments, then turns my limp limb over so the gem is sparkling up at us. ‘You wear my ring,’ she whispers, a certain amount of pride in her soft words. I frown, but I don’t withdraw from her touch. I’m confounded by the sense of peace settling over me as a result of it.
‘Nan’s ring,’ I correct her.
Gracie looks up at me, smiling sadly. ‘William gave me this ring.’
I swallow and shake my head, thinking of all the times William has toyed with the antique gem on my finger. ‘No, Granddad gave it to Nan and Nan gave it to me for my twenty-first.’
‘William gave me that ring, baby. I left it behind for you.’
Now I withdraw, and I withdraw fast. ‘What?’
Her chin is trembling and she shifts uncomfortably. She’s displaying some of the exact reactions William did when speaking of her. ‘He said it reminded him of my eyes.’
My eyes dart around the hollow stairwell, my poor mind racing. ‘You left me,’ I murmur. Gracie’s eyes slowly close, like she’s fighting off the horrid memories, and now I appreciate that she likely is.
‘I really didn’t have a choice, Olivia. Everyone I loved – you, William, Nan, and Granddad – was at risk. It wasn’t William’s fault.’ She squeezes my hand gently. ‘If I had stayed, so much more damage would have been done. Everyone was better off without me here.’
‘That’s not true,’ I argue weakly, emotion closing my throat. I’m trying so hard to locate the contempt I’ve maintained for Gracie, trying to inject it into my tone, but it’s gone. Lost. I haven’t got time to analyse it now. ‘Tell me where he is,’ I demand.
Her well-dressed body deflates as she casts her eyes over my shoulder. Something’s caught her attention, and I pivot to see what it is.
William is standing at the bottom of the stairs, quietly watching us.
‘We need to get to Miller,’ I say, bracing myself for the resistance I know I’m going to face. ‘Tell me where the Temple is.’
‘It’ll be over before you know it.’ His face is awash with reassurance, but it won’t work.
‘Will,’ Gracie says softly.
He throws a warning look past me, shaking his head. He’s