Page 23 of Hateful Games

“My phone’s dead,” I lie. Confessing I stubbornly refuse to save his number sounds childish. It might be, but doing it feels like accepting my fate that I’ll be marrying him soon.

Even more solidifying than signing those papers two years ago.

“I don’t think he’ll like being disturbed, if he’ll even check his phone,” says Malcolm mysteriously. A glimmer of mischief dances in his eyes. “Besides, why ruin the surprise?”

Suddenly, I sense the similarities between him and Nova, especially with that calculative look in Malcolm’s dark eyes.

No wonder they’re friends.

Meanwhile, I’m forgetting he’s not mine. The friend of my enemy is my enemy… isn’t that what they say? I cannot let my guard down around him. Standing up, I smooth down my skirt and ask, “Can you show me to the guest room?”

“Sure.” His tone conveys I’m not fooling him.

I follow him down to a set of stairs, leading to another floor and down a hallway. He pauses at the last door on the left, pushing it open. I stop short just past the threshold. Turning to Malcolm, I point out. “This is Nova’s room.”

“Shouldn’t you share your room with your fiancé?” he retorts, crossing his muscular arms. “Besides, there are only two bedrooms. Would you rather share mine?”

It’s like choosing between the two devils. And don’t they say better the one you know than the one you don’t?

“Or either one of you could be a gentleman and stay on the couch?”

“Then you’ve come to the wrong place, love.”

I roll my eyes and decide to freshen up and rest in here for now. I’ll worry about sleeping arrangements once Nova returns, which judging by Malcolm’s statement won’t be until tomorrow.

Kudos to me.

I also kinda like the opportunity of snooping around in my nemesis’s bedroom.

Wonder what all sorts of secrets he’s hiding.

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

Startled, I look up at Malcolm studying me intently. And dare I say… he looks amused.

“What could I possibly do?” I reply innocently.

“You’re trouble.” Shaking his head, he turns and walks away.

***

The incessant and loud pounding on the bedroom door wakes me up from my deep slumber. The jet lag had me knocked out cold the second my head hit the pillow. I was so tired I didn’t even put on clothes and instead passed out in my fluffy robe.

I check the time to see it’s nine in the evening and curse myself for sleeping like the dead when there’s another impatient knock.

Has Nova returned early? Fuck.

Maybe Malcolm informed him.

And here I was excited for some peace.

Irritated at being woken up and afraid he’s going to break the door, I slide off the bed, tie my robe which came undone while I slept, and unlock the door. It jerks open and I duck back just in time before it smacks me in the forehead.

“What the hell, Malcolm?” I grumble, when I see it’s him. “Is the apartment on fire or just your ass?”

His impersonal gaze runs over my undressed frame and bedhead hair before he says, “Get dressed. We’re going out.”

I gape at his bossy tone and blink when he turns to leave.

---