home.”
They’d tiptoed around the reality of their situation all day. He’d been dreading the moment it came
up. His jaw locked, but he forced his temper back. “My home is your home,” he said with measured
patience.
Her eyes closed as she drew in a breath. This should be good. “Lucian, I have an apartment now.”
“Evelyn, we lived together before. You moving to yet another place is only a step backward.”
His molars locked as she scooted back. He didn’t like the stiff set of her shoulders. That’s how she
looked when preparing to argue. “We did go backward. You can’t expect us to jump back where we were. Besides, I have work in the morning.”
Fuck. He’d forgotten she was working again. He was a selfish man, and her working always seemed
to rub him the wrong way. He was worth billions for God’s sake. She shouldn’t have to work.
“Dugan will swing by so you can get your things and drive you to work in the morning.” Then he’d
know where she was working.
Her mouth tightened. “No.”
“No? Evelyn—”
“Lucian, I said no,” she practically snapped.
He frowned, then growled. “Why? Why do you need to go there? What sense does that make?” He
sounded like a petulant brat, but didn’t care. He wanted her in his bed. She’d said she loved him. They made love several times in the past twenty-four hours. Why was everything suddenly slipping through
his fingers once more?
“Because it’s where I live now.”
“And for how long, Evelyn? Are we supposed to simply date like two teenagers who can’t afford
more time or better circumstances? It’s ridiculous.”
“Maybe to you, but to me it’s smart. I need to look out for me. I have a plan and nothing’s going to
get in my way this time, not your demanding needs or sex or even luxury. I need to be practical.”
“Which is what? All I keep hearing about is this plan, but you won’t tell me a single detail. Why the
secrets?”
“Because if I tell you you’ll take over and I need to do this for myself.”
He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what she wanted to buy with thirty-five thousand dollars.
“Why can’t you confide in me? I only want to help you. If this makes you happy, I’ll help you get it.”
“You don’t understand. Telling you would be like cutting corners. It would shave away the pride I
get from finally doing something on my own. I need to be practical.”
He changed tactics. “How fucking practical is it to live in a less than pleasant section of the city
when you could have everything you need at the hotel?”
“Well, it’s a step up from the shelter,” she hissed, and he saw he’d hurt her feelings. Her arms
crossed over her chest and she turned away from him.
He sighed and pulled her to him so her back was to his chest. Rubbing gently over her stiff arms, he
waited for her to unclench. “I know you want your own place. If it’s about taking baby steps, fine,
we’ll go slowly. I’ll get you your own room. But the idea of you sleeping all by yourself, miles away,
isn’t working for me.”
She scoffed and tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip. “I’m sorry, Lucian, but it’s going to
have to work for you, because that’s how it’s going to be.”
“This is ridiculous,” he growled under his breath. Then, more to the point, he said, “You’re being
stubborn.”
“Guess where I learned that from?”
They were each silent for a moment, reining in their tempers. Finally, like a whipped, lovesick kid
— pathetic— he asked, “When will I see you again?” Jesus, what is she doing to me?
As much as he could try to play her game, tried to be flexible in a way he wasn’t accustomed to, her
answer infuriated him. “Tomorrow night I have something to do. I guess Tuesday.”
“What do you have to do tomorrow night?” He couldn’t think of anything she’d be obligated to do
aside from working at her job and she said that was in the morning.
In a small voice she mumbled, “I don’t want to say.”
His grip over her shoulders tightened. “Why?”
“Because it doesn’t have to do with you and I want to keep it that way.”
She was shutting him out. A terrible thought suddenly occurred to him. “Is it Hughes?”
She sat up and scowled at him. “I’m not an idiot, Lucian. Give me a little credit.” Huffing out an
aggravated breath, she mumbled, “It’s my plan.”
This fucking plan. He didn’t want to say it, but the words fell out anyway. “You’re with me.” He
flinched at how small his voice sounded to his own ears. What was this woman doing to him?
“Yes, I am with you because I love you. He never has nor could he ever compare to what I feel for
you. But I will say this. I am not about to throw myself into something after going through these past