Page 63 of House of Lies

As if I could concentrate. I keep wondering if she’ll stay another day, and if I’ll somehow be able to convince her to come with me to the city. I spent over an hour mentally redecorating the guest room in my penthouse suite…just for her.

Frustrated, I came downstairs to make myself some coffee, hoping a kick of caffeine would help me focus. That’s when I saw the bucket of cleaning supplies. The light shining inside the cellar. And the open basement door.

“Cassidy!”

There’s no response. For all I know, she bolted upstairs when my back was turned. I stalk down a row of boxes, pausing at the end. There’s a box lying on the floor. I pick it up, examine it.

Was she going through my receipts? But the box is still sealed, so that can’t be it. I scan the rest of the nearby stack, and my heart nearly stops when I realize what I’m looking at.

My jaw clenches painfully tight as I push away another box full of paperwork and see the name scrawled on the side of the box beneath.

BECKS

I trace a finger over the letters. Should have gotten rid of these months ago. But it was easier to store them down here and pretend they didn’t exist.

Pretend she didn’t exist.

My gaze snaps to the stairs. Did Cassidy see these boxes? Did she try to look inside?

What if she did? What the hell would she think of me?

A flash of rage bursts through me. I snatch the box from the stack and hurl it away from me. It hits the nearby wall with a sickening crash and thumps to the floor.

My breath comes hard and fast as I run a hand through my hair.

She had no right to be down here.

No right to go through my things.

Who was I kidding? I don’t need this kind of complication in my life right now. Why the hell did I ask her to stay? Parker is supposed to handle all the buyers tomorrow. I probably shouldn’t even be here.

I sweep up the stairs, flicking off the light and closing the door. There’s no lock on the basement because I never thought I’d need one—now I’m wishing there was a deadbolt. Maybe if Cassidy sweats it out for an hour or two down here, she’ll realize my bite is worse than my bark.

Stalking through the kitchen, my eyes flicker left and right.

“Cassidy!” my voice booms out. “You’d better show yourself, girl, or?—”

“Or what?”

I spin on my heel, facing Myles’s little spitfire. She saunters nonchalantly over to me, rubbing her hands together. Face calm, jade eyes serene.

Eyes that widen in surprise when I storm up to her.

The scent of hand lotion brings me to a halt. My gaze flicks past to the guest bathroom a few feet behind her. When I focus, I can hear the toilet’s cistern filling with water over the sound of blood rushing in my ears.

“Did you need me for something?” she asks sweetly, if hesitantly.

“Where were you?”

Her eyelashes flutter. “In the bathroom. Is that a crime or something, Sir?”

“I told you the basement was off limits.”

“Why?” She glares up at me. “Do you have something to hide?”

I’ve been wanting to wrap my fingers around her creamy throat since she first challenged me with her fierce green eyes.

Cassidy gasps, the sound cutting off when I slam her back into the wall behind her. Her hands instinctively grip my wrists, but she’s too shocked to peel my fingers away.

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