Chapter six: The morning after II

Evelyn’s POV

Adrian stared at me with a devilish grin. “Well, you were all over me last night. So I wouldn’t say sex was completely out of the question.”

My soul left my body. “What?”

He took another sip of coffee. “Quite determined, actually.”

“Oh my God.”

“You practically threw yourself at me.”

“Adrian!”

“What?”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

He looked at me over the rim of his cup. “Would that make you feel better?”

“YES!”

“Then I’m joking.”

I stared at him, he smiled and I wanted to die and it was not metaphorically, I genuinely wanted the ground to open up, swallow me, and deposit me somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean without a life jacket.

“You are a horrible person.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s unfortunate. I was beginning to enjoy your company.”

I pulled the covers over my head.

“No. Absolutely not, I’m leaving the country and changing my name.”

“All because you tried to kiss me?”

I threw the covers off. And Adrian laughed. “I DID WHAT?”

“You’re enjoying this.”

“Immensely.”

“You’re supposed to be my boss!”

“I am your boss.”

“Then behave like one!”

His eyebrows rose.

“Interesting advice from the woman who drank my rum, sat on my desk and attempted to seduce me.”

I made a strangled noise. “Please stop talking.”

“Gladly.”

I closed my eyes and memories were beginning to return, and every single one made me want to crawl under the bed.

His hands on my waist, me asking whether I was prettier than his ex.

“Adrian?”

“Hmm?”

“Get out.”

“It’s my house.”

“Then I’ll get out.”

I attempted to climb out of bed, but the moment my feet touched the floor, my head began pounding so violently that I sat back down.

“Fuck.”

Adrian’s amusement disappeared. “Easy.”

He placed the pillow back on the bed and picked up a glass of water from the bedside table. “Drink.”

“I’m fine.”

“Your face suggests otherwise.”

“Your face suggests you’re an asshole.”

“And yet I’m the one holding the water.”

I snatched it from him and he handed me two tablets from a small packet.

“Painkillers. Have something to eat first if your stomach is upset.”

I looked at the tablets, then at him. “You came prepared.”

“You were very dramatic last night.”

“Apparently.”

I took a long drink of water and I noticed my left hand, the pale indentation where my engagement ring had rested for two years was still there.

My stomach tightened and Adrian followed my gaze.

“Where’s your ring?”

The question was quiet. “I took it off.”

His eyes returned to mine. “Where?”

“At the apartment.”

Something changed in his expression. “Daniel’s apartment?”

“Our apartment,” I corrected automatically and then I winced.

“God. I suppose it’s his now.”

Adrian said nothing and I rubbed my empty finger.

“I left it on the dresser.”

For some reason, saying that hurt more than I expected.

I looked away quickly. “Anyway.”

Adrian studied me for a moment and then he reached into his trouser pocket. “I think you should have this.”

He placed something on the bedside table, it was engagement ring.

I froze. “What the hell?”

“You’re welcome.”

I stared at the diamond. “How did you get that?”

“You kept it in your overnight bag.”

I blinked. “No, I didn’t.”

“You apparently changed your mind about leaving it behind. It fell out when the bag tipped over last night.”

“Give it to me.”

Adrian raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because it’s mine.”

He glanced at the diamond. “So was the man who gave it to you, apparently. Ownership seems questionable in that relationship.”

My mouth fell open. “Did you just make a joke about my cheating fiancé?”

“Former fiancé, I hope.”

“Adrian!”

“What? Too soon?”

“Extremely!”

He picked up the ring and handed it over and it was still beautiful.

I closed my fist around it. “I don’t know what to do with this.”

“You don’t have to decide today.”

His voice had lost its teasing edge, I looked up and he was watching me carefully.

“You’re allowed to take some time, Evelyn.”

I swallowed. “Thank you.”

He nodded once and my attention returned to the pajamas.

“Wait.”

His expression immediately became suspicious “What now?”

“Who undressed me?”

Adrian’s mouth twitched. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it is!” I screamed out.

“You’re very loud in the mornings.”

“Adrian Vale, if you don’t tell me who took my clothes off—”

“My housekeeper.”

I stopped. “Oh.”

“Mrs. Whitmore helped you change after I brought you here.”

I looked down at the silk pajamas. “These are hers?”

“No. They’re new, she keeps spare sleepwear for guests.”

“Right.”

I paused. “Did you see anything?”

Adrian closed his eyes. “Evelyn.”

“I’m asking a perfectly reasonable question!”

“No, I did not undress you.”

“Okay.”

“Or touch you inappropriately.”

“Okay!”

“Or take advantage of your spectacularly poor judgment.”

I glared at him. “You’re ruining a perfectly good apology.”

“You haven’t apologized.”

I considered that. “Sorry about your rum.”

“Not the attempted assault?”

I gasped. “I did not assault you!”

“Well, that’s how I remember it.”

He laughed again and I was beginning to think this version of Adrian was more dangerous than the terrifying one.

I glanced around the bedroom. “Why am I in your room?”

“You’re not.”

I frowned. “What?”

“This is the guest room.”

I looked at the enormous bed, the expensive furniture, and the windows overlooking Manhattan “This is your guest room?”

“Yes.”

“What does your actual bedroom look like? Buckingham Palace?”

“Less gold.”

I stared at him and he looked entirely serious.

“Did you leave me here alone?”

His expression shifted. “Not exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

He pointed toward the armchair beside the window and I followed his finger to a folded blanket lay across its back.

“You kept waking up,” he explained. “You were crying, calling Daniel’s name and then a Sienna’s.”

My throat tightened.

“You screamed a few times.”

I stared at the chair. “So I stayed.”

My eyes returned to him.

“You stayed here?”

“Until you settled down.”

“All night?”

“Most of it.”

I looked at the blanket again.

Adrian Vale, the man who considered sleeping more than six hours an inefficient use of time, had spent most of the night in a chair because I couldn’t stop crying.

“Why?”

He frowned. “Why what?”

“Why would you do that?”

His expression became unreadable. “Because you needed someone.”

“Adrian…”

“Don’t.”

I blinked. “Don’t what?”

“Start crying again. I’ve had enough emotional devastation for one evening.”

A laugh escaped me. “You really are terrible at comforting people.”

“Yet somehow, here we are.”

He picked up the coffee he’d abandoned. “There’s another cup on the bedside table. Mrs. Whitmore made it the way you like it.”

I looked at the coffee with milk and the exact amount of sugar I usually took.

I frowned. “How does she know how I like my coffee?”

Adrian paused.

“Because I told her.”

I looked at him. “You know how I take my coffee?”

He gave me a flat look. “Evelyn, you’ve been drinking the same thing every morning for four years.”

“Still.” Daniel didn’t know how I liked my coffee

“Don’t make it sentimental.”

“Breakfast is downstairs in twenty minutes. You should eat something.”

“You’re inviting me to breakfast?”

“I’m preventing you from dying of a hangover in my guest room.”

“How romantic.”

He looked at me and then shook his head. “Get dressed. Mrs. Whitmore had your clothes cleaned.”

He turned toward the door. “Adrian?”

He stopped. “Thank you.”