Beautiful Secret (Beautiful Bastard #4) (29 page)

Niall and I definitely should have talked more, at least discussed some kind of game plan for work, but instead we leaned heavily into one another, both of us trying to enjoy just a few more minutes. He kept my hand tucked between both of his as the view outside the windows shifted from the M4 to surface streets, and by the time the taxi stopped in front of my building, it was all I could do to kiss him goodbye—albeit a bit enthusiastically, considering we were in the back of a cab—and stumble with my bags through my front door.

Rain pounded on the street outside my apartment that night, tracking over the windows like leaded glass. It felt right somehow that it would rain our first night back in London, a welcome return to normalcy of sorts.

I was in bed, fresh from the shower and wrapped in my favorite pajamas, when my phone buzzed from the bedside table.

Miss seeing your face on the pillow next to me,
it said, and something sparked, hot in my chest. He was doing it—he was trying—just like he’d said.

Miss hearing those cute little sounds you make while you sleep,
I typed back, already smiling at what I knew his response would be.

I am far too masculine to ever be considered ‘cute,’ Ms. Miller.
I laughed out loud at that, and my heart took off.

I may need to see you fully undressed again soon, just to be sure.

There was nothing for a full minute, and then the little bubble appeared, indicating he was typing a message.
I can’t wait to see you, this bed is far too big for one person.

My fingers shook on the keyboard as I entered a reply, my cheeks beginning to hurt from smiling. He really was doing this.
We
were doing this.

I can’t wait to see you, too.

Tomorrow then. Sleep well, darling.

If a heart could burst from happiness, mine was well on its way.

I finally fell asleep to the sound of the rain, with a smile on my face and my phone tucked under my pillow. The voice in my head was silent.

It’s fascinating how quickly the human mind incorporates new habits. Even though we were back in London, even though she’d never shared this bed with me, waking up without Ruby was odd.

I pulled my phone from my laptop bag and texted her.
Did you sleep?

Her reply:
Barely. I may need someone to stand behind me and move my arms and mouth for me at work.

I’ll see you at the office, my beautiful puppet.
I finished breakfast, read the paper, dressed, and left. It could be any other day . . . except it wasn’t. My life felt about seven thousand times bigger.

Ruby was in her small shared space when I arrived. I usually got in before eight but doubted I had ever once beat her to the office. This morning, I’d tried, though. I wanted even just one moment alone with her, unguarded before reality descended. Unfortunately it was not to be. The offices already buzzed with Monday morning activity, and I could
only manage a small smile, a wink, and a glimpse at her wet, pink lips.

“Hey,” she mouthed to me.

I stared at her for a beat longer, wanting nothing more than to walk in and give her a simple kiss on the mouth, but instead I nodded, walking to my office down the hall.

Anthony’s familiar sharp, two-knock combination rapped at my office door and, as usual, he stepped in without waiting for an answer.

“All right?” he asked in greeting, walking over to take a seat across my desk from me.

I leaned back in my chair, giving him what I hoped was a relaxed smile. “Good.”

He crossed an ankle over his knee and grinned at me. “I trust you had a nice trip?”

Never before had I felt so much as though I were playing a game of chess. “I did.”

Anthony watched me with scrutinizing eyes, fingers steepled beneath his chin. I blinked over to my computer monitor under the guise of checking my email. I hadn’t decided what I would tell my questionable colleague. On the one hand, I didn’t want to hide what was happening between me and Ruby, and if I knew her at all—which I sincerely felt I did—I knew she wouldn’t do a very good job playing aloof. On the other hand, I wanted what was private to remain private, and Tony had a way of making everything his new favorite joke.

“Something is different,” he mused, pointing a finger at
me. “You have a grin in your eyes just here.” He motioned to his own brow. “A twinkle. A little spot of sunshine over your head, I think.”

“Do I?”

“You get knobbed in a New York City titty bar?”

His crudeness fell like a weight dropped in the room. “Honestly, Tony.”

He hummed. “Bang a Rockette?”

“Frigging hell.”

He paused, giving me another once-over, then smiled. “Finally get a leg over on Ruby, then?”

I swallowed, caught off guard, pretending to focus on something on my desk. “Ah, no. That . . . I, well, that is to say, I didn’t. No.”

It was the truth, if we were being technical. I hadn’t technically had sex with her yet.

Tony’s hands slapped down on my desk. “You old dog!”

I felt the blood drain from my face. This was exactly the reaction I wanted to avoid. “No, Tony, it’s not—”

“You banged the fringe off her, didn’t you? You had a go at my Ruby!”

I pushed back slightly from my desk, feeling a thunderstorm build in my chest. “ ‘
Your
Ruby’?’ ”

“So you did then,” he said, clapping his hands once, a violent crack that sliced through the room.

I glanced at the door, hissing at him, “Keep your voice down, you git.”

He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. Tony enjoyed
ribbing as much as the next bloke, but there was an edge to his tone here. “Oh, watching you bumble around the office over this is going to make the wait for the next season of
Game of Thrones
much easier to take.”

“Cut the shit.”

His dark eyes went wide. “And look at the mouth on Niall! I dare say, she’s loosened you up, she has. Think I might step out and thank her.”

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. “Tony,
don’t
.”

“Aw, come on then, tell me,” he said, settling back in the chair, his voice returning to slightly more sincere territory. “What happened?”

I looked at him, feeling the glare slowly drain from my eyes.

“I’m done taking the piss, Niall,” he assured me, smiling with genuine apology. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never in my life imagined—”

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” I cut him off, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my desk. I needed to get back some semblance of control. I had to admit it would be helpful for Tony to be generally aware of what was going on between Ruby and me, but surely he didn’t need more information than that. “Turns out she had feelings for me before, and, well . . .” I couldn’t find a way to articulate where my head was concerning Ruby, settling only on “I enjoy her company.”

Tony could clearly see the understatement in my words.
“Ah, sure.”

“I’d be grateful if you’d not mention it ’round.”

He nodded, making a little X mark over his heart and giving me a conspiratorial wink.

Ruby was sitting in the small break room with her friend Pippa when I went in to grab my lunch from the refrigerator. Her eyes met mine and she quickly blinked away, but a bright flush crept up her neck and into her cheeks.

“Ruby. Pippa,” I said in greeting.

“Hi, Mr. Stella,” Pippa replied, brightly.
Too
brightly. Had Ruby been similarly interrogated?

“Mr. Stella,” Ruby said, looking back up with a secret little smile. Her teeth bit down on the tip of her tongue and I sucked in a sharp breath, remembering the last kiss she gave me before we parted ways last night. Her mouth had tasted like the lemon candy she’d sucked on the drive from the airport. I cleared my throat and reached for the refrigerator door handle.

“Adjusting to the time change?” I asked, looking over my shoulder to her.

She smiled wider, shrugging. “Trying.”

Pippa stared studiously at her plate of leftovers as Ruby’s gaze held mine.

I felt the air draw from my lungs and struggled to inhale evenly. Back here, in everyday life, the reality of
us
—that there
was
an Us—made every part of me seem to ache with longing. With her so close all day long, would I be able to
focus on any of the work in front of me? Would I be able to focus on anything?

If I considered her features one at a time maybe she would overwhelm me less. Her eyes were too intense; they communicated to me that she was just as desperate to be alone as I was. Her tongue slipped out, dampened her lips. Her neck was long, smooth, and I imagined taking her to my place, kissing down the slope of that throat as I unbuttoned each of the tiny pearls lining the front of her—

“Um . . . Mr. Stella?” she asked, eyes widening meaningfully as she tilted her head toward my hand . . . which was still wrapped around the handle to the refrigerator door I’d pulled open. Cold air filtered into the room, against my warm chest.

“Ah,” I said, jerking into motion and bending to retrieve my salad. I reached for a fork from the drawer and hurried back to my office.

As I suspected, I could barely focus, and knew I needed to find a way to calm my frayed thoughts. This uncertainty wasn’t like me; it was disorienting. I needed to know what our schedule would be: Would she stay over at night? How would we be able to take things slowly physically . . . or was it already too late for that? Did I even want to anymore? At this point, sex felt like a formality. Everything we’d done felt infinitely more intimate than that, but as soon as I had the thought I knew that being with Ruby in that way would mean more to me than a simple next step in our physical relationship.

Did I want that? And when I did have sex with her, would
I be able to maintain any sort of cage around my heart, in the event I wasn’t what she needed me to be down the road?

I’d assumed Portia was the love of my life, but from the first moment Ruby had stretched and kissed me with such bravery, I knew I’d been wrong.

My phone buzzed on my desk, pulling me out of my obsessive analysis:
Are we doing dinner at my place or yours tonight? And before you answer that, remember I have a roommate and a small bed and am the worst cook in the history of bad cooks. PS: stop thinking.

Laughing, I replied,
In that case, there is no other option but for you to come to my flat. I live alone, have a large bed, and am perhaps slightly more capable in the kitchen (only slightly; perhaps I will order takeaway).

Just outside my office, I heard a short clip of a cartoonish voice yelling, “Bottom!” and then the same cartoon giggles. A knock landed on my door immediately after.

“Come in,” I called.

Ruby stepped inside, smiling down at her phone. “Okay.”

My heart swelled at the sight of her again. “Okay?”

She closed the door behind her. “Okay I’ll come over for dinner, since you insisted so vigorously.”

Just then, I registered that the sound I’d heard outside my office was her text alert. “Was that . . .” I stopped, leaning back in my chair and smiling at
her. “Did your text alert say, ‘Bottom’?”

She shrugged, all trace of her blush gone now that we were alone in my office. “Specifically, it’s
your
text alert. It’s the minions. From
Despicable Me
? The movie?” She shook her head as she stepped inside. “We have got to get you out more. Anyway, it fits. You have the best ass this side of the Atlantic.”

“ ‘This side of the Atlantic’? Does that mean when we were in New York you found an ass superior to mine?”

She pursed her lips, pretending to think on it. “I didn’t have a chance to do a very extensive survey, but Max’s friend Will is pretty fit and—”

I leaned forward, growling, “Finish that sentence, Ruby Miller, and so help me I’ll take you over my knee and spank
your
bottom.”

She threw her head back, laughing my favorite Ruby laugh. “I love that you think a spanking would be—”

Two sharp knocks landed at my door and Tony burst in, smiling. The smile froze and turned sour, and then slowly straightened as he took in the sight of Ruby leaning casually against my desk. She bolted upright, pretended to find something to pick at on the front of her skirt.

“Hi, Anthony,” she said quietly.

“Ruby,” Tony said, brows pulling together. He looked over at me, and then back to her. “How’re the Barclay Industrial friction calcs coming?”

Her blush was back, and her eyes fixated on the carpet. “They’re done, I just need to compose the email. Sorry, I was just catching up with Niall”—she
caught herself—“
Mr. Stella
after the trip.”

“Ruby, I’m sure it’s a relief that he is now aware of your crush,” Tony replied coolly, “but Niall is a vice president at this firm, and I’m sure he has a lot on his plate after the trip.”

I felt Ruby’s wide eyes turn to me, and my jaw clenched in suppressed anger.

What in the bloody hell was he doing?

Tony continued, oblivious. “Perhaps you should leave his office door open when you enter, and leave the
catching up
for your nonwork hours?”

With a tight nod and mumbled apology, she slid past him and out of my office.

“Tony,” I ground out, leveling him with an irate look. My blood ran hot through my veins, heart pounded in my chest. “Was that entirely necessary? It’s her lunch hour. And ‘her crush’? She wasn’t in here
harassing
me. I’m just as involved as she is, and there is nothing improper happening between us. She does not report to me.”

“No,” he agreed, “she reports to
me
.” Tony stared, his jaw tight, to where Ruby had left the room and closed the door behind her. “I guess I didn’t realize it would be so difficult for her to maintain professional boundaries.”

My eyes widened as it struck me: Tony was
jealous
.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” I said, as nonchalantly as I could manage. Something had ignited inside my chest at his words. Tony wasn’t my superior; to the contrary. Technically speaking, I was being actively groomed for the position that would someday make
me his boss. “
You
—the one who suggested I get a leg over, who called Ruby fit, who said—and I quote, ‘all legs, great tits’—who seems to hire only the best-looking interns for the Oxford program. You’re in here lecturing
us
on professional boundaries?”