The conversation drifted after that. We talked about small things. Music. Food. Elijah didn’t steer the topic back to business, and I didn’t ask questions about the empire I knew he was hiding behind those calm eyes.
Trust.
The word slipped into my mind before I could stop it.
I trusted him. Just a little. Enough to sit in a private jet with him and tell him pieces of my life I usually kept guarded. That realisation warmed me as much as it should’ve scared me.
London greeted us with grey skies and restless traffic.
An expensive car waited outside the private terminal, another thing I chose not to comment on, and we drove through the city in relative silence.
Black cabs wove through streets lined with centuries-old buildings. Red double-decker buses rolled past shopfronts glowing with afternoon lights. It was far bigger than Deadwater but had much the same vibe. A collection of hundreds of towns all smushed together, just with fancier architecture.
I rested my forehead against the cool window as I watched the city rush by.
Elijah touched my arm. “Have you been here before?”
“Once, on a school trip to the Tower of London with an overnight stay in a youth hostel. I spent most of the trip staring at shop windows.”
“Design inspiration?”
I elbowed him for knowing me too well already.
Traffic slowed near the Thames. Tall buildings rose ahead, glass reflecting the dim sky.
Elijah’s hand landed palm-up on the seat between us. He bounced it in invitation. I curled my fingers through his so we were holding hands. The contact felt natural. Possessive. Maybe even comforting.
We’d done this during sex, but never so casually.
The car turned into a quieter street lined with modern apartments. Steel gates opened, and we pulled into an underground garage.
“Elijah Westwood,” I said slowly. “Please tell me this isn’t another ultra-fancy hotel.”
“No.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “It’s home. Thought I’d show it to you, first. If you want, you can chill here while I handle work.” He appeared shy all of a sudden. “Unless you want to come to the office? It’s not my place of business, so I don’t knowwhat it’s like. You’d probably be more comfortable here, but the choice is yours.”
My stomach flipped. Snoop around his house or wait outside a meeting room. Decisions, decisions. “Here’s good. But just know I’ll be searching out all your secrets.”
“I’d expect nothing less. In fact, I’m relying on it.”
We stepped out of the lift directly into a wide hallway with polished floors and muted lighting. It whispered wealth without shouting.
I wandered forward, turning in a slow circle. “This place is huge.”
“Takes after its owner,” he said.
I grinned at the dick joke. “You live here alone?”
“Nope. There’s a very beautiful lady in residence now.”
I glanced back at him.
The words resounded in my head. He meant me. Be still, my heart.
He stayed by the door. “I’ll get this over and done with as soon as possible. One meeting, a maximum of two hours, then I’ll be back with you. We can do whatever you want after. Be tourists, window shop.”
His cute, slightly teasing smile sped my pulse. If he didn’t get out of here, I’d be on him again.
I lifted my chin to the exit. “Get out of my hair.”