Page 36 of The Woman

I can tell she wants to fight me on this, but she doesn’t. With her lips pressed together, she stands, eyeing me with an attitude I would never get from a normal woman, and then I follow her over to the bathroom. After turning to face me, she opens her mouth to say something, but I don’t allow it and close the door before she can even make a sound. A second later, I hear something hit the other side of the door, which gives me pause, but then I feel my lips tug at the corner. I’m getting a certain sort of amusement out of such a feisty response.

A knock sounds at the door before it swings open and my father walks in, an air of authority surrounding him. An equally important-looking gentleman follows behind him.

Schooling my features, I step away from the bathroom to greet them by the door.

“This is my son, Phoenix. Phoenix, this is Kyle Peterson. I’ve been working with him on the new concert hall.”

He takes my outstretched hand and shakes. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Have a seat.”

I gesture to the chairs at my desk and begin walking over to my own, adjusting the collar of my shirt as I go. Once I’ve taken a seat, my eyes naturally drift to the closed bathroom door before returning to my father.

I don’t know why I’m suddenly determined to keep her hidden. She was in a ballroom full of hundreds of men, and no one suspected a thing. She’s made it this far in her life with no one but me finding out the truth. I could have had her sitting in my lap right now, and it wouldn’t have been an odd thing to see. In fact, it would have been further proof for them.

Leaving her at home was also an option, but I didn’t want to. Especially not when I had questions that I wanted answered.

I glance at my father, who lifts an ankle to the opposite knee and relaxes back into the chair. His face has his usual unreadable expression on it as he looks off to the side, but then he tilts his chin a little higher, and it almost looks as if he’s sniffing the air.

Can he smell Avery?

Her scent is the only thing I can smell, but that’s because my body was pressed so thoroughly against hers. My mouth was on her, and my fingers were inside her.

Shaking that thought away, I clear my throat. “So, what can I do for you?”

Chapter 17

Avery

I keep quiet on the drive home, with my arms crossed as I stare out the passenger side window.

I stayed quiet in that tiny bathroom for almost an hour, sitting on the hard toilet seat and standing to stretch out from time to time. There wasn’t much I could hear from in there – just the low murmuring and the occasional chuckle that didn’t belong to Phoenix. The voices only became louder on their way out as they got closer to the door.

Within seconds of the click of his office door closing, the bathroom door was swinging open, and Phoenix was standing there.

“Are you ready to go?” he had asked.

That question after he shoved me in there and having nothing to do but sit for so long made me furious. I know he somewhat holds my life in his hands, but it didn’t matter at that moment. I got up and stormed toward him, pushing past his large frame in the doorway. His lips didn’t curve into a smile, but it still somehow looked as if my actions amused him.

I’m sure he still doesn’t quite know what to do with me.

“Were you ever able to pick your own food?” Phoenix finally asks when we arrive home, breaking the silence as he kicks off his shoes at the door.

I am still barefoot after my earlier attempt at escaping, so I continue on without stopping or saying a single word. Phoenix apparently isn’t happy with that, though. Before I even make it across the foyer, he’s gripping my arm and spinning me around to face him.

There’s no amusement on his face now. Only that scowl I’m familiar with. But something happens as I look up at those mixed-gray eyes, waiting for him to get angry. His eyes soften the slightest bit, and the tension around his lips eases.

“I’m sorry you had to hide in the bathroom for so long. My grandfather and father . . . they’re astute.” I work through my mind, trying to remember what that word means, but he must notice something on my face because he adds, “He might notice something different about you that others haven’t.”

“I’ve already met them – and danced with your father. I’ve already made it this far on my own,” I answer stubbornly.

“I know you have, but do you really want to risk it?”

I turn away from him in a huff. I’ve been the one to look after myself, and now that he knows, he suddenly wants to hide me away to keep me safe.

Keep me safe.

My gaze swings back to him. “Does that mean you’re not sending me away?”

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