Page 93 of Back in Black

Gillian shook her head. “No, I got that part, and you’ll explain the details in a minute.” Crossing her arms under her breasts, she took a challenging stance. “Who’s going to stay with you so you can watch over her?”

Because, in his mind, there was no question about it, Drew didn’t balk. “You are.”

Her mouth firmed. “I see. And do I have anything to say about it?”

“You want me to go on bended knee to ask all pretty-like?”

That image, usually associated with a marriage proposal, stymied her. “No, no, of course not,” she stammered. “But I don’t want you making plans that concern me without talking to me about it first.”

“Fair enough.” He helped himself to a cup of coffee. “A lot of shit has gone down because some lunatic has a grudge against me. It’s bad enough that your car got trashed, but you’re dead level in the crosshairs now, thanks to the media blast.” He sipped his coffee, leaned on the counter, and then gave her a level look. “I care about you.”

A slight flinch of her eyes left him guessing if it was inspired by surprise, or dismay.

“No way in hell am I going to let some slimy little psychopath hurt you. And the easiest way to make sure you stay safe is to keep you with me.” He took another sip, watching her, gauging her reaction. “Right?”

A flush colored her cheeks. She started to answer, and then suddenly she turned her back on him.

Drew lifted a brow. “Gillian?”

When she faced him again, she appeared more composed, at least outwardly. But he wasn’t buying it. He knew her too well to be fooled. He had her on the ropes and he planned to keep her there until he got exactly what he wanted.

Which was . . . everything.

“I suppose it’ll be fine since it’ll surely be . . . temporary.”

Like hell. Drew just waited, curious as to how she’d handle his lack of affirmation on a short-term arrangement. She didn’t know that he had no intention of ever losing her, and once he made up his mind on something, that was that. If she wasn’t already won over, he’d ramp up his efforts.

And in the end, she would be his.

GILLIAN felt like a fish on a hook, squirming, gasping, and helpless. Drew, damn him, made no effort at all to clarify things for her, and she just didn’t know if his intent was solely to protect her or if, like her, he wanted more.

Subtlety was not her forte. She was a woman used to stating her mind and going after what she wanted.

And, God help her, she wanted the infamous Drew Black.

But she wasn’t bold enough to come right out and say so. Too many women before her had made that mistake and been dismissed because of it. If—when—their relationship ended, it’d be because she walked away. Not because he sent her packing.

But in the meantime . . .

Gillian cleared her throat and sought a tactful way to query him on his objective. “So you’re proposing—”

He flashed a grin at her word choice.

Face burning hot, Gillian gulped back the rest of what she’d intended to say. Good God, this wasnota proposal. “Ah, bad choice of words.”

He shrugged, still amused, which left her more befuddled than ever.

A little irritated to be in this awkward position, Gillian started again. “What I meant to ask is, how long do you think it’ll be necessary for us to . . . to . . .” Towhat? She had no idea what to call their relationship.

“Shack up?” Drew offered.

Jerk. She took a turn shrugging. The base description worked as well as any, and until she could form complete, articulate sentences, she might as well play mum.

“However long it takes, honey.” Drew’s gaze never wavered from her as he pushed away from the counter. “I’m patient—when I need to be.”

That enigmatic statement did nothing to shed light on his purpose.

“I see.” But she didn’t.

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