who have been working in my apartment.” Marcus had been right all along. However “in-demand” her contractor had been, she’d ended up with a team of idiots working on her project. She’d given in to tunnel vision, just moving forward with the renovations because all she wanted was her apartment to be done. She’d wanted that one thing for herself, at any cost. “I guess I need to start looking for a new contractor.” She disbelieved the words as they left her mouth. She’d been so sure Marcus would be the reason her renovations came grinding to a halt. In the end, it was because the company she’d hired—and defended all along—had done a terrible job.
He nodded. “You should be able to return in a week or so. We won’t hold your apartment hostage forever. You’re very lucky that Mr. Chambers acted so quickly. It could’ve been far worse for your apartment and for the entire building. I’d say that all things considered, this is a good thing. You would’ve been living with a ticking time bomb. That bad electrical could’ve short-circuited at any time—while you were asleep, while your neighbors were asleep.”
The weight of everything threatened to knock Ashley to the ground. It could’ve been far worse. She knew worse. She’d lived worse. She was so relieved that no one had been hurt, but her guilt over the possibility was crushing. She took in a deep breath as tears bloomed at the corners of her eyes. She had to stay strong...at least until she could collapse in a heap on a hotel bed.
Ashley and Marcus stepped away. “It’s okay,” she said. “You can tell me now that I messed up. I know I did.” She waited for the lecture or at least that smug look on his face, the one that would say without words that he was, once again, right. And she had been wrong. Tragically wrong.
“I don’t have to say it. It’s all quite clear.”
She waited for the part about how it was okay that she’d made a mistake, but he didn’t say it. And she couldn’t blame him. He and his family had been put at risk.
“I’m sorry, Marcus. I don’t know what else to say.”
“You can say that you’ll stay with me,” he said. “If you’d like to.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Really?”
“Yes. You can stay with me. You can be nearby while they do the inspection, you can be on hand if your contractor shows up, and all of your things are here. It’s the only sensible thing to do.”
Because you’d invite me to stay only if it was sensible. “I thought you didn’t like to have women around Lila.”
“Lila’s perfectly safe at my sister’s. She can stay there for a few days. I wouldn’t dare bring her back into the building until the inspection is complete, anyway. I can visit her before or after work. She’ll be safe from all of this.”
He nodded in the direction of her apartment, but the invisible line between Marcus and her door went right through her. Her choices had created the danger. They’d prompted Marcus’s need to keep the most precious thing in his life far away from her.
“So? Are you accepting my invitation? I’m too tired to persuade you, so you’ll have to make the call.”
Could she do this? Retreat to the home of the man she’d cursed on a regular basis just a few weeks ago? Should she do this? Would they just end up arguing over breakfast? Or would she spend the night staring at the ceiling, wondering what he’d worn to bed that night? “Yes. Thank you. I appreciate it.” She turned back to her apartment door. “I really don’t think I want to go in there.” Her voice was shaky again. She dreaded the thought of seeing the damage firsthand.
“Why don’t you get settled in my guest room? I’m sure I can find something for you to sleep in.”
“Old potato sack lying around somewhere?”
“Something like that.”
They made their way to his apartment. This was the first time Marcus had allowed her to step over his threshold, and she didn’t take the invitation lightly. He’d been clear—women who weren’t the nanny or housekeeper didn’t come over. Of course, Lila, the person he was protecting, wasn’t here to protect. She’d been whisked away to safety.
Marcus’s furnishings were trim and masculine—a charcoal-gray sofa, chocolate-brown leather armchairs and a low wood coffee table, set against the backdrop of marine-blue walls with crisp white trim, with vintage black-and-white framed photographs and old maps as art. A massive basket in the corner overflowed with colorful toys, a happy oasis in an otherwise sophisticated and serious room. She followed him down the hall, where he flipped on the light in his extra bedroom. “I trust this will work.”
This room was serene refinement in soft white and shades of cream, camel and café au lait. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” She took in a deep breath. There was so much to do—deal with insurance and the fire department, get everything cleaned. And then there was her contractor. Clearly the crew had to be fired tomorrow. As to whom she’d hire to finish things up, it was back to the drawing board. She had another year of celebrity under her belt since she’d last contacted her first-choice builders. Perhaps they could be persuaded to move her up in the queue.
“I need to find you something to sleep in,” he said, sounding a bit uncomfortable with the task he’d given himself. “I’ll be right back.”
“That would be great.” Ashley sat on the edge of the bed, exhausted and struggling to get a handle on her feelings. The fire was a living nightmare, but it had landed her in Marcus’s inner sanctum, a place she’d been fairly sure he’d keep her out of forever. It was hard not to be fascinated by this glimpse into his life, to see a glimmer of hope. She and Marcus Chambers might have horrible odds romantically, but there was still something about him that left her wanting more.
He reappeared in her doorway, presenting her with a pair of pale blue, perfectly pressed men’s pajamas. “I, uh, I don’t know what you normally wear to bed, but I hope this will do.”
She had to smile at his sewn-up approach, knowing that when the lights were turned down and clothes were coming off, he was uninhibited and commanding. Regret over their almost-night together still ate at her. If only they’d actually made love, if only she’d been able to witness the moment when he unraveled, she would have had another piece of the sexy, complicated puzzle standing before her. “Is this what you normally sleep in?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at the pajamas.
“Just the pants. I can’t stand to wear a shirt to bed.”
A flood of heat and frustration threatened to consume her. He’d just plopped a sequence of half-dressed images in her head that would be hard to shake, especially knowing it was all going to play out in the next room in a few minutes. All night long. “You wouldn’t want to smother yourself with pajamas.”
He knocked a knuckle against the door frame. “I’ll leave you to it. I’m sure you want to phone your family.”
Her family. Good God, she hadn’t dared to entertain the notion. It would crush her mother. Her dad might not handle it much better, and he needed to avoid stress at all costs. Why did reality have to encroach on her daydreamy thoughts of Marcus and his chest? “I’ll call them tomorrow.”
“Are you sure? I don’t know what I would’ve done without my family after Elle left. They got me through everything. I really think you’ll feel better if you talk to them now.”
And there it was—another
