Page 71 of Owned By a Billionaire

“But I can’t marry you. Can I?” His mouth twitched into a mock smile. “And then there’s the question of my name. I want to be Mark. I want to reclaim my true identity. Opening up to you has lifted an immense weight off me.”

“My family’s very understanding.”

“But won’t they view me as spineless? Someone who ran away in the face of adversity? It’s not how I want to be seen.”

I nodded slowly. No one understood that better than me. We shared that need, only I was even weaker because I’d purposely thrown away the key to my Pandora’s box.

Markus buttoned up his shirt, slipped on his trousers, and stood before the mirror to smooth down his hair. Even in plain clothes, he boasted more sophistication than all the men in my privileged world put together.

“Then stay at Mayfair. It’s empty, and we can find a way. My family’s open-minded.”

“I’ll stay here for now. I want to keep working, save some money, and then return to Australia to clear my name.”

“But I can’t lose you again.” Tears pooled in my eyes.

“We can meet here,” he said, stroking my cheek.

“No. The sheets are awful. The faucets are rusty. I can’t.”

“You weren’t thinking that when we met at Whitechapel.” He gave me one of those complicated stares, the kind he wore when I dragged him into one of my seedy fantasies.

A bitter taste gathered in my mouth, not only from self-loathing, but from rising tension at the thought of not getting my way. “I need you close. I want to share meals and watch movies and have you around, reading and talking about books. And our walks. What about our walks?”

I paced about like someone who’d found something precious and was about to lose it. “What will it take for you to come with me? To Mayfair, at least. I can understand your misgivings about Merivale.”

My phone sounded, and while I wanted to ignore it, I peered down and discovered that Reynard was calling.

I shook my head and fell onto the sofa, sobbing.

Markus placed his arm around me. “There’s something else going on, isn’t there?” he asked, pulling away to look at me.

I leaned into his warm body, if only to hide my tear-stained face.

“That’s also a problem,” he continued. “I’m naked, while you’re wearing someone else’s clothes.”

I stared up at him. “Why would you say that?”

“Because you’re hiding something. And there’s Crisp. What’s his hold on you? How can you expect me to be totally invested in this relationship if you can’t confide in me?”

Chapter 23

Markus

Herusuallyshielded,darkeyes were drowned in tears. Such raw emotion, that of someone adrift in despair, made her appear like a stranger and not the self-assured, guarded woman I’d fallen in love with.

Not that I was turned off. Quite to the contrary, her vulnerability drew me in deeper, intensifying our connection. I wanted to become her anchor. Offer unwavering support.

“I’m here for you, Caroline. I don’t care what you’ve done, you have to know that. But you must let me in. Completely.”

She wiped her eyes and smiled sadly. “You really have turned into another man.”

“No. You’re just seeing the real me. Away from the fancy jackets and jaw-dropping adornments that surround your life, I am here before you in this shabby bedsit. The real man. The only man that I can be.”

“How about a cup of tea?” she asked, in a tone of surrender.

“Of course, with pleasure. I even have some fresh cake.” I smiled.

“No. Tea is fine. Maybe a drop of that whisky.”

---