Page 33 of The Stranger
“How else was I going to get the information I needed?”
“You own an IT company; couldn’t you just hack into the system or something?”
“I could have, but that would be illegal, Delilah.”
“You have issues,” I scoff.
“I do … a five-foot-nothing blonde by the name of Delilah St. James.”
“You are such a conundrum,” I say as we ride the elevator up to the penthouse.
“How so?” he asks sceptically.
“If my presence annoys you so much, then why are you so hellbent on me staying here?”
“I won’t pretend I’m thrilled about it, but I’m prepared to make sacrifices to keep you safe.”
“How noble of you,” I sneer.
When he turns his head and rolls his lips to hide his smile, I have to restrain myself from kicking him in the shins.
He leans back against the wall of the carriage,focusing on the numbers as we rise. I use the time to take in the rest of him; my view was limited when he was seated behind the wheel in the car. My narrowed eyes slowly peruse down the length of his body. Now that he’s standing, I can see the definition of his pectoral muscles and his well-defined abs. Somewhere in this man’s busy schedule, he finds the time to work out.
My gaze moves slightly lower, to the tan belt thread through the loops of his dark designer jeans. I thought three-piece-suit Spencer was my favourite look on him, but I’m finding the casually dressed man before me equally appealing.
My eyes inch a tad lower and almost bug out of my head when I notice the bulge.Holy cow.This man is packing some impressive heat behind that zipper.
He clears his throat and when my attention snaps to his face, I see him studying me intently. Oh-my-fucking-God, did he just bust me staring at his dick?
As soon as we arrive at Spencer’s floor, he reaches for the handle of my suitcase and moves to the side so I can exit first. In the short time I’ve known him, I’ve noted his gentlemanly ways.
Like the time we met, when he came to my parents for dinner, and again when we had lunch on my first day of work, he pulled out my chair. Despite having Damien chauffeuring us around, he still insists on being the one to open the back door for me. And whenever we enter a room at the same time, he always stands back and allows me to enter first.
I like that about him.
I wouldn’t exactly say chivalry is dead, but it’s rarelysomething I see with men from my generation. Kayne did none of those things for me.
“Wow,” I murmur when I step out of the carriage and into the expansive foyer. It has all the grandeur of his office building and then some.
Unlike the dark, moody, masculine design of his office, this luxurious entryway is light, airy, and sophisticated. Every mirror, piece of furniture, or painting on the wall has been placed with perfect symmetry. The space is predominantly white, with a touch of gold, black, and grey throughout. The huge modern chandelier that sits in the centre of the room is positioned above a chunky, round, grey and white marble pedestal table, and a vase of fresh flowers adorns the top. It is the kind of place a person like me would only ever see in a magazine, never in real life.
My sneakers squeak against the marble, and my eyes are everywhere as I cross the space, trying to take everything in. We eventually come to a stop in front of a set of high, white, hand-carved double doors.
“You actually live here?” I ask in wonderment as he sets down my suitcase and removes the set of keys from his pocket to unlock the door.
“In the foyer? No.”
“Hah, very funny,” I say, poking his rock-solid side.
The deep throaty chuckle that follows sends a buzz of energy zinging up my spine. It’s scary how fast this stranger has become such a huge part of my life, and I can’t believe I’m about to enter his home and spend the night.
Once the door is unlocked, he again gestures for me to enter first. The interior of his apartment does not disappoint and I again find myself struggling where to look first.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“You think this place is nice? You should see my estate. I usually only stay here during the week because it’s close to the office.”
“Oh,” I say, side-eyeing him.
