The Billionaire Beast(39)

He managed to get himself out of the office and into the hallway, moving behind her to the entranceway, because for some reason he didn’t want his last sight of her to be in his office.

She paused by the front door, her hand on the handle, and turned back, giving him another of those hesitant smiles. There was something in her eyes, that even now, he couldn’t read and didn’t understand.

“Goodbye, Nero,” she said.

Stay. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me here alone.

He clenched his teeth together hard. No, he wouldn’t say it. He was going to let her go. “Good-bye,” he forced out.

Whatever it was in her eyes flickered and disappeared. Her lashes fell and she turned away, opening the door and stepping through it, not looking back.

The door closed after her, the sound heavy and solid, like a mausoleum door shutting on a tomb.

He felt it then, the deep sense of doom flooding in on him, crushing him, all the air leaving his lungs, all the air leaving the entire room.

She had gone, and she had taken all the light, all the air, all the life with her. Leaving him alone to rot in the dark, leaving him trapped in his house.

Go after her.

Nero heaved in a breath, staring at the door, feeling parts of himself begin to crack, to shatter. This house had been his haven, his safety for so long, but now . . .

It is your tomb.

He couldn’t go after her. He’d promised himself he’d do the one unselfish thing he’d ever done in his life and let her go. Because that had been her choice and he had to respect it. He had to honor it. And if that meant he had to die here in this house without her then he would.

She wouldn’t want that.

No, but what other choice did he have? It was either he keep her here forever with him or he let her go.

There’s another option: You could go with her.

His breath caught painfully, a shudder going through his entire body. The front door loomed large in his vision, the end of a long, dark tunnel.

He’d never loved anyone in his life, but he knew he loved her. He knew it with everything in him. Just like he knew that if she left without him, he would die here alone. And his death would hurt her, a hurt she didn’t need.

What she did need, though, was love. It’s what she’d always needed.

So give it to her.

Nero moved toward the front door, forcing his feet to walk one step, then another, then another. He reached for the door handle and instantly the sense of doom tripled, the vice closing around his chest, squeezing his lungs, his mother’s voice in his head, warning him to stay safe.

But he wasn’t going to let that rule him, not anymore. Phoebe needed him, and he would walk through fire and bullets for her.

He made his numb fingers grip hard to that handle. And he pulled it.

The door opened, the air from the outside world blowing in, overwhelming him. Exhaust fumes and oil, hot pavement and trash, and jasmine . . . Phoebe’s scent.

Phoebe. He had to think of Phoebe. Her soft skin and her beautiful hair. The way she felt under his hands and around his cock. The way she looked at him as if he was a puzzle she was trying to work out. The way she touched his back to soothe him, her fingers in his hair, stroking . . .

He looked at the steps, concentrated on them and not the massive open bowl of the sky or the buildings that loomed over him, threatening to fall on him, forcing his feet to move. One step. And another.

The vice around his chest was crushing him, making him gasp, and his muscles threatened to seize.

Think of her. Think only of her.

Her silky hair in his hands, sifting through his fingers. The cool sound of her voice, agreeing to his ridiculous needs. The hard crack of her palm across his cheek as she’d given him the slap he so richly deserved.

The steps were hard to manage and he didn’t know how he got down them without falling, but he did. Then there was sun on his head, the pressure of air on the back of his neck, and he didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to see where he was, but he needed to see if she was still there, if he was too late.

So he forced his head up.

The sun was too bright, and his vision was doing strange things. Everything felt too big, and he was too small, an ant crushed against the earth. He fell to his knees, unable to bear the pressure of all that emptiness above him. Unable to breathe with all the buildings, all the things pressing in on him and no walls to keep them out.

Then he saw a figure at the end of the path, right by the gate, and the sun was shining on her hair.

“Phoebe,” he roared, except it came out as a whisper because his voice had broken. “Take me with you.”





Chapter 14


If she hadn’t stopped at the gate to wipe the tears from her eyes, she would never have heard the harsh scrape of sound that was her name.

But she did hear it and she turned, expecting James, though she had no idea what he would be calling her about.

But it wasn’t James.

Nero was at the bottom of the steps on his knees. His bronze skin had gone deathly pale, his eyes black as pitch, his lips drawn back in a fierce snarl of determination. His hands were balled into fists, and he was looking at her like he was trapped on a desert island and she was the ship come to rescue him.

The ship that was sailing away.

And it hit her all of a sudden: He was outside.

The breath rushed into her aching chest, and she had to blink a couple of times to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her, that the tears in them hadn’t created some sort of illusion.

But even after she’d blinked, he was still there. On his knees, his chest heaving. Looking like he was slowly being crushed by some massive force.

She’d been quite certain that leaving was the right thing to do. Because she had to do this for herself. She had to know who she was when she had no one to look after, no one to care for. And she had been sure of that right up until the moment she’d put her hand on the door handle and looked into Nero’s black eyes, all ready to say good-bye.

And she’d realized that she didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to leave him. A hope had crept inside her heart, that he would tell her to stay, and she knew if he did, she wouldn’t have found it in herself to go.

But he hadn’t. So she’d forced herself to turn around and walk through that door, tears streaming down her face. Telling herself she was making the right decision, that she had to do this. That she had to take this step.

Yet all her certainty vanished in an instant as she looked at him, kneeling on the concrete, the sun in his glossy black hair, his beautiful face gone pale.

He’d come after her. No one on earth had ever come after her, so why had he? She had nothing to offer him, no help to give. She was only the stand-in daughter for a couple of people who didn’t really want her in the first place, so what could she possibly give him? He needed so much more than what she had.

But her heart was flinging itself around in her chest, and the only thing she could think was that somehow he’d known. He’d known exactly what she needed. And she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t leave him.

So she didn’t think. She dropped her purse and ran. Through the gate and down the path, and not because he needed her.

She ran to him because she needed him.

He watched her come, breathing fast, hard. And she dropped to her knees in front of him, heedless of the concrete, taking his face between her palms. Then she kissed him, holding on to him, feeling his mouth move on hers, opening, responding. Giving the kiss back to her, desperation creeping in.

Then his arms were around her, holding her tight. Holding onto her as if he was drowning. “Take me with you,” he murmured against her lips. “Please, Phoebe. Don’t leave me here alone.”

There were more tears in her eyes. “You’re outside, Nero. Why on earth are you outside?”

“Because I don’t want you to go.” He turned his head against her hair, nuzzling her neck, his arms tightening around her. “I tried to let you leave. I tried to make it your choice. I didn’t want to trap you here with me. But . . . You left me, Phoebe.” His voice became hoarse. “I knew that if you left, I’d die in that fucking house. And that the only other choice I had was to go with you.” His mouth moved against her neck, a brush of his lips that made her shudder. “I know you want space, that you want to figure things out on your own, and Christ knows you don’t need a fucking broken piece of shit like me. But I love you. And if that’s what you need, I can give it to you.”

Her heart felt too big, too full, and her throat hurt and there were tears running down her cheeks.

She put her arms around him, feeling him shudder against her. “You love me? But I thought—”

“I called my mother,” he said, his voice was rough and shaken. “It’s a long story, but there was no stepfather. My mother was sick and she kept me in that room because she was delusional and thought the outside world would harm me. I’ve been denying the truth for years, because I just couldn’t handle it, but . . . You made me see the truth, Phoebe. You forced me to see it.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I should never have done that.”

“No, that’s exactly what you should have done.” His head turned, his dark eyes looking into hers. “You broke down the walls, Phoebe. And you opened the door. And I was going to let you go. I swore to myself I wouldn’t do what Mom did and lock you away in the dark with me. But I don’t want to be alone in that house anymore. I want to walk through that door with you.”