Page 51 of Vicious Seduction

Unable to look at him, my eyes cut to the side where his laptop sat on the counter. That’s when I realized my emotions had clouded my judgment, preventing me from analyzing things clearly.

I’d worked for months to get access to Lawrence’s personal life—his house or computer—anything that might give me a glimpse behind the curtain. With unsupervised access to Oran’s world, the possibility of uncovering something about the Olympus Club’s dark secrets improved drastically.

I jumped when his coffee cup clanked in the sink.

“It’s not forever, Lina. You don’t have to act like it’s a death sentence.” He was irritated, and if I didn’t know better, it almost sounded like he was a little … hurt?

“Okay, I’ll do it,” I offered softly.

He studied me. Intently. Warily.

I had a feeling we would feel infinitely better if we could get behind-the-scenes access to one another’s thoughts, butthat wasn’t an option. Neither of us was ready to lay our cards on the table, so our uneasy truce would continue. The wolf and the fox walked in tandem, both wondering when the other might strike out unexpectedly.

“I’ve arranged for guys to meet us at your place in an hour.”

Jesus, he didn’t waste any time.

I had to snap my jaw shut when I realized my mouth gaped open. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded, then tossed the rest of my cereal into the sink. Nerves had filled my stomach fuller than any food could have.

“We’d already talked about me moving out when the lease was up in March. This just speeds things up a bit. I’ll still pay my share, I promise.” I rushed to explain the situation to my bewildered roommate as half a dozen men stood in the hall waiting to get started. I’d made Oran wait outside along with them. If he was going to push this on me with no warning, his ass could give me five minutes alone with my friend.

Jessa and I weren’t super close, but we’d lived together for the past four years. We made good housemates. I didn’t want to hurt her or give her the wrong impression. Not that it could be totally avoided. Bailing from the apartment without any warning was strange. Anyone with any sense would be suspicious.

“I get it, Lina. It’s no problem, really. I’m just surprised.”

“I know. I’m a little surprised myself.”

Her eyes studied me, then cut to the door. “You sure you’re okay?”

I held up my hand and gave the most genuine smile Icould manage. “I’m engaged to an incredible man. I know it all seems sudden, but it’s a good thing. I promise.”

I hoped that if I said it enough, I’d start to believe it.

An hour later, all my worldly possessions were piled into a small moving van. I was almost embarrassed at how little there’d been. What took the most time was packing up all the loose odds and ends. I’d been very particular about how my sewing supplies were packed, which is why I refused to allow anyone else to unpack those boxes once they were delivered to Oran’s apartment.

I left Oran to deal with the rest while I set up a workstation for myself in the guest room I now occupied. I was so engrossed in my task that I didn’t realize until I was done that none of my clothes or personal items were in the room. When I went in search of my things, I discovered that everything had been unpacked in the primary suite. Oran’s bedroom.

I stood in the huge walk-in closet, staring at my clothes hanging across from his when I felt his looming presence approach behind me like a thundercloud electrifying the summer sky.

“They put my clothes in your closet.” The array of luxurious fabrics surrounding us absorbed my softly spoken words, making me feel as though we’d stepped into a vacuum of time and space. Somewhere foreign yet familiar—frightening yet alive with possibilities.

Oran’s knuckles trailed down my right arm. “I could hardly tell them to put your stuff in the guest room,” he rasped, his voice like warm apple cider on a cold day. “You’re my fiancée, remember?”

What was wrong with me?

Of course, my stuff would need to be with his. His family would ask questions if it wasn’t. But I hadn’t prepared myself for the logistics of exactly how this new arrangement wouldwork. How it would feel to see my underwear in his drawers, and my toothbrush at his sink.

The most unexpected and confusing part was the tinge of disappointment that unfurled in my chest at the reminder that none of it was real.

“I didn’t forget.” My response sounded as hollow as my heart felt. I pulled away from him and grabbed a sweater off a hanger. “I need to shower, then get some work done.”

Oran didn’t move when I motioned to get past him. Slowly, I lifted my gaze to his and tried with all my might to keep him from seeing the tidal wave of emotions threatening to crash over me. He held me suspended in his stare. I couldn’t breathe through the strain of maintaining my composure.

Reluctantly, mercifully, he stepped aside.

Ten more seconds, and I would have been at risk of passing out or devolving into a torrent of tears.

I took an extra-long shower in the guest bathroom. When I got out, a note lay on the bed. Oran had gone to work and wouldn’t be back until late.

---