Page 21 of In Bed with Her Billionaire Bodyguard

What had Martin said to her?

The question become an urgent refrain as he made his way from the theatre to the garage where the car was. Luca barely breathed until he had the car at the entrance to the Royal Opera House and saw Hope making her way towards him.

Head high, back straight and as poised and regal as a queen, sophistication and class dripped from every pore and no one would have guessed that she had just been emotionally eviscerated by her ex-fiancé. Luca exited the car without taking his eyes off her and, reaching for her door, he held it open and closed it behind her.

He wasn’t sure what made him look back at that moment but, when he did, he saw Simon Harcourt standing at a second-floor window with an inscrutable expression on his face.

CHAPTER FIVE

HOPEWASBARELYholding on. All she wanted to do was get back to her apartment, take this wretched dress off, wipe off the make-up and... No. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t give in. Martin had been purposely baiting her. Distracting her. He’d done what he’d set out to achieve—whatSimonhad set out to achieve, that was. Instead of making the rounds at intermission and forging valuable connections, she’d remained in the opera box and had run away at the first chance.

When would she stop being such a fool? Shehadto be better than this. Cleverer. But all she could think—hear—was his parting words to her on a loop.

‘I was never going to give you what you are so desperate for.’

She hated him. Hated that he was right.

As the car arrived at her apartment block she felt Luca’s curiosity pressing against her, filling the car, suffocating her. The moment they pulled to a stop, she flung the door open and fled, desperate to escape. She didn’t want him to know. Didn’t want him to have any part of her. Not when she couldn’t trust that he wasn’t just the same as Martin.

As she pushed through the revolving doors, she felt him fall into step a little way behind her and though she wanted to tell him to leave, to stop following her, she didn’t trust herself to speak.

The doors were open on the lift when she reached it and Hope tapped the button for her floor again and again to close them. She needed him to stop. She needed to be alone. To lick her wounds. To hurt. She turned back in time to see him pound a fist against the wall as the doors closed, cutting them off.

She sucked in a lungful of air, willing back the tears and trying to ease the pressure on her chest, thankful for the reprieve from Luca’s constant attention. He saw and knew too much. She shook her head at herself, gathering the shreds of her dignity, and got out of the lift.

Her thumb was on the access pad to her apartment door when Luca came stalking down the corridor. He must have run up the flights of stairs. She turned in the doorway, refusing to let him over the threshold.

‘Go away,’ she commanded.

He pulled up opposite her, studying her with an intensity she felt tripping over her sensitised skin, pulling at her core, at what made her a woman and what she, as a woman, wanted. There were questions in his eyes, dark and angry. His gaze fastened on hers as if he was willing himself not to look anywhere else on her body and that annoyed her as much as it relieved. A muscle pulsed at his jaw and it seemed he was as on edge as she was.

‘No.’

‘No?’

He shook his head. ‘I won’t go away. Not until I know you’re okay.’

Hope huffed out a bitter laugh. ‘I am fine. Just another day in the life of Hope Harcourt.’

He looked over her shoulder at the sliver of apartment he could see through the open door and looked back at her. It was all the warning she got.

‘No, wait—’

He slipped past her before she could do anything.

‘Luca!’ she gasped, outraged that he was in her home. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded.

He stalked through her apartment like a jungle cat, peering into the rooms with a dispassion that was nearly offensive.

‘My job,’ he growled, and she wanted to growl right back. She was getting sick of hearing those two words. She didn’t want him to be doing his job, she didn’t want him here because hehadto be. If he and her brother hadn’t lied to her, she wouldn’t be in this mess, feeling one thing and wanting another.

Luca turned, feeling Hope’s frustration roll off her in waves. Good. He wanted her frustrated, he wanted her angry. Anything was better than the pain and hurt he’d seen hidden deep only moments before.

He caught sight of a wine fridge in the corner of the neat kitchen that opened onto the dining room. ‘Drink?’

‘Excuse me?’ Hope demanded, a red flash across her cheeks.

‘Would you like a drink?’

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