Page 79 of Diamond In The Rough

“Your brothe—” Like I stuck a hot poker down her throat, she chokes. “What?”

Yeah, Micah. What??

“Um…” So fucking stupid. Take it back. Take it back! “Felix. He wants me to bring you to the house. For dinner.”

“Felix Malone…” She gulps, audibly uncomfortable. “The Felix Malone?”

“Yeah.” For fuck’s sake, shut up! “But we don’t call him the Felix Malone, or he’d get all puffy and excited. He’s just Lix, and he figured out I was with you all night. And his girlfriend is doing that thing women do, inviting you over for a meal. So now, I guess I’m extending the offer to you.”

“H-his girlfriend. As in, the Christabelle Cannon? Cannon Daily heiress and mega-rich queen bee. That girlfriend?”

“Yeah… but we don’t call her the Christabelle Cannon either. She’s just Christabelle. Or Cannon. Or Debbie.”

“Debbie?”

“It’s a thing.”

I pick up my pot and walk it to a bin filled with soil I’ve created, bursting with nutrients and far superior to any store-bought potting mix. Digging the pot in and filling it most of the way, I scoop it up again and think of Tiia sleeping on my chest for most of the night. I think of her supple breasts pressed to my skin. Her soft breath, tickling my flesh. I think of her hair against my nose…

And fuck, I think of doing it again tonight.

“I could pick you up around six,” I suggest. “Bring you back to the house.” I pause before adding, “You’d be safe. And despite your bullshit teasing, you wouldn’t be breaking any laws.”

“I mean…” I know her mind spins out of control. That her palms probably sweat, and her heart gallops.

She barely tolerates me. She’s hardly comfortable when it’s just the two of us in the room. So add Felix and Christabelle, and she’s about to freak out.

“Tiia?”

“Do you want me to come to dinner?”

“What?”

“You said Felix wants me to come. And Christabelle wants me to come. But you haven’t actually mentioned your wants. I don’t…” She draws a deep breath, then exhales again so the sound rolls along the line. “What is this, Micah? What are we doing here?”

“We’re…” Fuck. What are we doing here? “I just… I like being near you, Grá. It feels good, physically, to be in the same space as you. That’s all I know.”

“So you want me to just… come to your house? The house widely reported to be where women go to die.”

It’s a sucker punch, right to my gut. Her words are so cold—and yet, so fucking factual, it makes me sick.

“I’ve lived in New York my entire life,” she whispers. “I know who your family is. Which means I’m familiar with your father’s reputation to make babies with as many women as he could trap. The papers have covered, in detail, how these women were never seen again after their time with him.”

“He’s dead.” I put down the prepped pot and press my hands to the steel counter.

She reminds me of all the things I already know about this house. About this family. This life.

Twenty minutes ago, I didn’t want her here either. But now I do. I want her to see my home so fucking much, it makes my stomach twist with nerves. With need.

“He’s dead, Tiia, and his sons aren’t the same. If you come here, I promise you’ll be protected.”

“Micah…”

“Just think about it. I’ll be outside your apartment at six; if you slide into my car, then you’re accepting my invitation. And if you don’t…” I stop and swallow. “Then, you don’t. That’s your choice.”

“And if I choose not to?” she rasps. “If I told you I have no desire to ever meet your family or see the home that Timothy Malone the Second tarnished? If I told you I don’t want to be in your world?”

“Well—”

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