Page 34 of Save Me the Trouble
I didn’t have the address. Of course, I had the resources to find it—get it—but the quickest, surest resource was the man in the driver’s seat who’d taken her home that day after she’d passed out.
I watched his eyes crinkle, a sure sign of his smile. “Of course, Mr. Crown.”
Chapter Eleven
Killian
Lester stopped outside her apartment building just as I finished my phone call to my grandmother.
I hadn’t left much room for her to get a word in, but I was going to put an end to this barrier between us. I told my grandmother I’d found the woman I wanted to marry, and the arrangement with Embers was over. Over her worries—her protests—I reminded her that this was our deal. She wouldn’t give up on me and the business if I promised I wouldn’t give up on love. When that started to look like the case, she’d contacted Embers, and now, they were no longer needed.
I left her with the consolation that the contract hadn’t been for nothing. If it hadn’t been for Embers, I wouldn’t have found Grace; I wouldn’t have fallen in love.
“Apartment 3B. Good luck, Mr. Crown,” he said like he knew I’d need it.
“Thank you,” I grunted and got out of the car, my phone clenched in my fist. The temptation to message her gnawed at me, but I didn’t want to give her the chance to run. If she wasgoing to turn me away—truly put an end to this. It was going to be to my face…in private.
Desperation stampeded in my ears when I reached her door. God, I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d felt nervous like this. Maybe the day I’d had to tell my grandmother the truth about losing all of my inheritance, but even then…
I lifted my hand and rapped on the door, listening for the low sound of conversation behind it.
“Mr. Crown?” Darcy answered, her wide eyes going even bigger when I stepped inside without an invitation. “What are you?—”
“I need to talk to Grace.” I tried to look for her but couldn’t see much past the hall.
Darcy barreled her arms defensively. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You know what’s not a good idea, Miss Miller?” I scowled and loomed over her. “Standing between a man and the woman he wants.”
Her jaw hit the ground.
“Now, will you please go get Grace?”
She snapped her mouth shut and nodded, pausing for a second to add fiercely, “But if you hurt her?—”
“I won’t.” It was a promise I intended to keep.
She rushed down the hallway, then there was a small cry followed by the swift pad of bare feet on the floor. My heart stopped when Grace appeared, still in the emerald dress I’d bought her and holding an open bottle of wine, her mascara a little fuzzy around her eyes.
Her eyes widened when she saw me, like she couldn’t trust what she was seeing. She’d looked more vulnerable than I’d ever seen her, and it took my breath away.
“Killian.” Her shoulders fell, her strength cracking. “What are you doing—You shouldn’t be here.”
Without a word, I closed the gap between us in two quick strides and cupped her face.
“I’m exactly where I should be,” I muttered, my lips not even an inch from hers.
“And I’m definitely somewhere I shouldn’t be,” Darcy muttered and grabbed her shoes and purse. “I’m going to my sister’s. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Grace.”
“Wait, Darcy—” The door shut on Grace’s protest, and she shivered in my arms. She shook her head, trying to regain control. “You can’t just…show up here and?—”
“Tell me why,” I demanded, resting my forehead to hers as my voice devolved into a low growl. “Tell me why when it’s what we both want.”
Her resolve started to crumble, the fire in her eyes dimming as she struggled with the truth she didn’t want to admit. “This isn’t professional,” she whispered, but there was no conviction in her voice.
“It’s never been professional,” I countered, skating my thumbs over her cheeks and feeling the trace of tears that crossed them before I got here. My stomach tightened. “Not from the moment I first put you in my private office that first day. It was never about needing to create the profile, Grace. It was about wanting you to get to know me.”
She looked up at me, her eyes wide with shock and something else—something softer, more vulnerable.
