Page 27 of Seduced By the Billionaire
I am special, a little voice whispered in her head. I am. She knew better than to listen to it, but was it so wrong to want to believe it? Was it so wrong to want one fleeting thing for herself in all these years of misery?
The fluttering in her chest only intensified as the seconds ticked past, his gaze still locked on hers, his clear-eyed sincerity making hope flicker in her chest. But if she let that flicker burst into flame, she couldn’t trust herself to make the right decisions.
And her mother would pay the price. She’d already gone to the morgue, the stupidest thing she could have done, because she’d wanted so badly to stay. Because of him, a dirty cop she hardly even knew.
“You’re running from someone,” he said. “You’re here under an assumed name?—”
“I’m not?—”
He put up a hand. “I don’t give a shit about that. What matters right now is that I’m on your side. I want to protect you.”
“So, I’m just a dumb girl who can’t fend for herself?” The words were defensive, reactionary, but he was right—she’d already tried to save herself. She was breathing, so she’d technically succeeded, but it was arguable whether her current situation could really be called “success” or even “living.” And she certainly didn’t feel safe… not unless she was with him.
“I don’t think you’re dumb,” he said, gravel in his throat. “And I don’t judge you for the line of work you’ve chosen. But I also don’t want you to vanish in the middle of the night because you thought you’d fare better alone.”
“I don’t have enough money to leave until Waylon pays me, anyway.” She dragged her eyes from his.
His gaze was sincere, kind, but eventually, it would edge toward pity. And she didn’t want to see that.
For a moment, all was silent, Juliette studying her clasped hands, Ronan studying her—she could sense his gaze in the fine hairs on the back of her neck.
Finally, Ronan cleared his throat. “Is the person you’re running from the one who killed Mercer?”
“I don’t know.” Her lip quivered, and she ground her teeth to steady it. “I really hope not.” Shut up, Juliette! Shut the fuck up!
“Have you seen this person lately?”
She shook her head, eyes locked on her hands—knuckles white from clenching.
“Who is he? An ex?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Yes, you can—you have to. I can protect you. You can even stay in my guest room while we investigate. He wouldn’t expect that, and Hawthorn Ridge is a good distance from?—”
She shook her head hard enough to make her ears ring. “No. I can’t. You’d be in danger, and if he wanted to kill me, he’d have done it already.”
But when she met his eyes once more, it felt as if he was looking into her soul—seeing something more than what she was in that stupid tank top, more than she was in a sweater and jeans. The wrapping didn’t matter. Her scars didn’t matter. He thought she was beautiful. Maybe she could believe that, too, if she looked at his face long enough.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” he said.
Her eyes filled. “He’s insane, Ronan. He once hid in my trunk when I went to a work dinner, spying through a hole in the backseat. If someone else had gotten into that car, anyone he didn’t approve of, if I’d said the wrong thing… he would have shot them dead.”
“You know that because he told you? Or because he killed someone else?”
Both. But she’d already said too much. Her lip was trembling uncontrollably now.
“I don’t want you to die.”
He raised his hand to her face. It was not sexual, just a sincere gesture of assistance, but the heat of his fingertips bled down through her chest.
“I’m a detective. You’re safe with me. You’re definitely safe here, out in the middle of nowhere, without a single prying eye—without cameras.”
“Whether he can see me or not, he probably knows where I am. I don’t even have a cell phone because I don’t want him to be able to track me. Anywhere I go… he has contingency plans. Places he can hide. Unless he wants to be found, you won’t see him coming.”
“And what would make him want to be found?”
Her eyes burned. “Me. I’m the only one he’d risk showing his face to. He’s not threatened by me, but honestly, it feels more like… an addiction. An obsession. He feeds on my fear like a leech.”
