Chapter 5: Routine

Chapter 5: Routine

Liora was starting to hate elevators.

Specifically private elevators.

The silent one's.

The kind that carried you to a specific penthouse.                                                                                              Namely Damien Voss's penthouse

She stared at her reflection in the mirrored walls as the numbers climbed steadily upward.

10:42 PM.

Two minutes early.

Again.

The worst part was that she couldn't even pretend Damien had forced her this time. Her brother had offered at least four times to help her break the contract somehow, though neither of them actually knew how one successfully escaped a Voss contract.

But she'd still gotten into the car tonight.

Still reapplied the same lotion.

Still changed into soft clothes before leaving the apartment, because somewhere in the back of her mind she'd remembered the way his breathing changed when he buried his face against her neck.

That thought alone was enough to make her annoyed with herself.

The elevator doors slid open.

The penthouse was dimly lit and quiet, the city glowing beyond the massive windows like another world entirely.

Damien was sitting on the couch with a laptop open in front of him, reading something.

Thank god he was wearing a shirt this time.

He looked up immediately the second she stepped out.

Not casually.

Instantly.

Like he'd been listening for the elevator.

Waiting for her.

Something about that realization settled strangely in her chest.

“You're early,” he said.

“You've said that every night.”

“And you've been early every night.”

Fair enough.

She shrugged off her coat slowly. “Traffic wasn't bad.”

His gaze lingered on her for exactly one second too long before shifting away.

“Did you eat?”

Liora blinked.

“What?”

“Dinner.”

The question sounded almost reluctant, like he'd argued with himself before asking it.

“Yes.”

A pause.

“What did you have?”

Now she was genuinely confused.

“A sandwich?”

Damien nodded once slowly like this information mattered for some reason.

Weird man.

“Did you?”

His eyes flicked back toward her. “Did I what?”

“Eat.”

Something unreadable crossed his expression briefly before disappearing.

“Yes.”

She didn't believe him.

For some reason that bothered her more than it should have.

The silence stretched awkwardly after that.

Liora looked around the massive penthouse again, still not fully accustomed to how cold and expensive the place looked and feel. Everything looked untouched. Perfect and flawless, like one of those showrooms shows she used to watch.

Like nobody actually lived there.

Her gaze drifted toward the liquor cart near the windows.

Last time she'd been here there had been several empty glasses.

Tonight it looked untouched.

Interesting.

“You stopped drinking,” she spoke aloud before she could stop herself.

Damien's attention sharpened slightly. “Observant.”

“You had whiskey on the bedside table that first night.”

something curious flashed accros his face.

'And now I don't.”

Liora stared at him for a second longer.

“You slept that well?”

Something in his expression shifted at the question.

Not softer exactly.

But less guarded.

“Yes.”

The honesty of the answer caught her off guard.

No sarcasm.

No arrogance.

No manipulation.

Just truth.

The atmosphere between them changed strangely after that.

Quieter.

More aware.

Liora suddenly became very conscious of the fact that this man, this terrifying, emotionally constipated billionaire had apparently stopped drinking himself unconscious because of her scent.

Ridiculous.

Absolutely and completely ridiculous.

“Miss Kane.”

She looked up.

Damien stood from the couch slowly, closing the laptop. “You're overthinking again.”

“I wasn't.”

“You were staring at me like I was a case study.”

“You kind of are.”

To her surprise, the corner of his mouth moved slightly.

Not quite a smile.

But close enough to feel dangerous.

“Come to bed.”

The words shouldn't have affected her.

Unfortunately they did.

Liora quickly looked away before her face embarrassed her.

The tips of her ears turning red.

The bedroom was colder tonight.

Or maybe she was simply more aware of it now.

She climbed into bed carefully, staying on her side automatically.

Damien joined her a few moments later.

The mattress dipped.

Silence.

Then:

his arm slid around her waist immediately.

Like routine.

Liora stiffened automatically before catching herself.

Because that was the problem now.

It already felt familiar.

Damien exhaled quietly against the back of her neck, pulling her slightly closer until her back rested fully against his chest.

“There,” he murmured, voice already roughening with exhaustion. “Better.”

Liora stared into the darkness.

This was insane.

Completely insane.

Three nights ago she hadn't known this man existed beyond magazine covers and business articles.

Now she knew:

the exact sound he made before falling asleep

how warm his hands felt around her waist

how quickly his body relaxed once he touched her

And somehow that felt far more intimate than sex.

The realization made heat creep slowly up her neck.

Behind her Damien shifted slightly closer.

Nothing sexual.

or deliberate.

Just unconscious seeking.

Like his body had already decided she was safe.

That thought unsettled her more than anything else.

“You're tense again,” he murmured sleepily.

“You keep saying that like this is normal.”

A pause.

Then quietly:

“It is with you.”

Liora's breath caught softly.

Before she could think of a response, his breathing had already started slowing.

Falling.

Sleep claimed him frighteningly fast.

Like his body had been starving for it.

Within minutes the tension left his arm completely.

Asleep.

Just like that.

Liora laid awake listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing while the city lights flickered across the walls.

And somewhere beneath the fear, beneath the contract, beneath the constant awareness that this situation was deeply unhealthy.

something dangerous was beginning to form.

Not trust.

Not yet.

But familiarity.

And familiarity, she was starting to realize, could become something far more complicated.