Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
IT WAS ALL SHE COULD think about for the rest of the day.
I want to make you mine. His possessive, white-hot statement swirled around and around in her mind, tormenting her, throbbing through her.
And the papers on the dining table were like a talisman, calling to her, pleading with her to add her signature.
And yet, she didn’t.
At first, she couldn’t tell why she was holding back. A non-disclosure agreement was no big deal. He was wealthy and well-known; he wanted to protect his privacy. Fair.
But if she signed the contract, she’d be like the others. The other women he boxed neatly into a compartment in his mind, slept with and then moved on from. Forgot about. If she signed the contract, she’d be like anyone else, and she railed against the very idea.
Because Roman wasn’t like anyone she’d spent time with.
Roman wasn’t some one-night stand she intended to hook up with then leave, in the small hours of the morning. Roman wasn’t meaningless.
The knowledge of that should have driven her towards the contract, not away from it.
If he wasn’t meaningless, then what was he?
And how did she protect herself from him?
He wouldn’t be some one-night stand she left without a backward glance, but they’d agreed to an end point to this, and she intended to honour it.
Because staying would lead to her wanting more, and there was never going to be more on offer here.
Roman didn’t want more.
That’s why he kept pushing her towards the contract. For all she didn’t want to be neatly partitioned in his mind, that was exactly what he sought from her. To turn whatever it was they shared into something he could process and comprehend. Something he could control.
She understood the instinct, even when she had no interest in giving into it.
But wasn’t there power in meeting him toe to toe?
Wasn’t there a power in signing the contract and forcing them both to accept the terms of when this would end?
After all, Kate had spent her childhood being discarded on terms that were not her own.
The rug was pulled out from under her more times than she could remember.
With Roman, they had a date. There would be no surprise, no dramatic argument, no hurt as a door was closed in her face.
It was as safe as a relationship could get for Kate; and the contract would help with that.
She suppressed a groan as her thoughts went back and forth, and all the while, his statement clouded her ability to think logically. Sign the damned contract. I want to make you mine.
The sun was low in the sky when a knock sounded on the doors of Roman’s apartment and shortly after, four women walked in with polite smiles locked in place. Roman didn’t look up from his laptop.
“Erm,” Kate said quietly, sitting up straighter. “Roman?”
He glanced at her then. “Dinner.”
Her stomach looped as the small army set to work in the kitchen, removing containers and setting the table, lighting candles, decanting wine.
A moment later, someone pressed something, somewhere, and muted piano music began to play through the apartment.
Beyond them, New York was starting to glow, the lights of the high rises striking against the dusk sky.
“Mr Hayes, dinner is ready,” one of the women said, coming towards Roman and Kate.
Roman nodded without smiling. “Thank you.”
“Would you like us to stay and serve?”
“We’ll manage,” he responded.
“Very well, sir. Good night.”
Kate waited until they were alone and then an incredulous laugh escaped her.
“Problem?” Roman asked, watching as Kate moved to standing, testing her ankle. It was getting better each day.
“No. No problem. It’s just…a sort of absurd way to live.”
“I would have suggested a restaurant, but that would mean being around other people.”
“We don’t like other people?”
“We prefer to be alone.”
Heat simmered in her veins at the possessive way he was looking at her, and a second later, he was scooping her up and carrying her towards the dining table.
“You have to stop!” She laughed once more. “I’m quite capable of walking now.”
“I know.” His eyes clung to hers, all dark glittering heat.
Two things were clear. The first, that he just liked to hold her.
And the second? That she was better sooner than he’d anticipated.
Technically, there was no reason for her to stay in his apartment.
Then again, she supposed that had been true all along.
His act of being a good Samaritan had ended from the moment he’d restrained her attackers.
Everything that came after that had been above and beyond.
And yet, it all just fit with who Roman was. He was extra, as a personality trait.
But as their eyes met and held, Kate couldn’t think properly. She lifted a hand to his chest, pressed it there. “Roman?”
Her voice was thick with emotions she couldn’t understand. She stared up at him and felt a rush of need, of uncontrollable want, which scared the heck out of her. Because Kate liked to control who was in her life, and in what capacity, and with Roman, it was all too much.
“Put me down,” she said, panic in the words now. Panic because she was starting to like being held by him too much. Starting to like being here, with him. In a way that made it hard to imagine ever leaving, despite what they’d agreed.
“I’m ready to sign the papers,” she said. She needed it. She needed to know they’d formalised an agreement, that they were dealing with things in black and white. She needed the safety a contract promised.
“Good,” he said, eyes still holding hers.
“On one condition.”
“More negotiations?”
“I don’t want any money.”
“Kate, we’ve discussed—”
She lifted a finger and pressed it to his lips. “I don’t care how rich you are, Roman. I don’t care about all this. And you’ve already been incredibly generous, helping me with my immigration issues and medical needs. That’s more than enough.”
“It’s part of the—”
“No.” She tilted her chin, aware that she was willing to die on this hill. “I will leave, now, tonight, if you don’t agree to this.”
He clamped his lips together, his jaw shifting as he considered that.
“So?”
“At least let me give you money for a flight back to Australia.”
“If I get a visa extension, I can work and save.”
He swore harshly. “I have a private jet. And an airline, come to think of it. This is the smallest thing I can do to help.”
“You’ve done more than enough,” she insisted. “I’m not your problem, Roman. I’m really not. You don’t have to fix everything in my life.”
A muscle jerked in his jaw and she could see that he didn’t believe her. “I need to know you are safe.”
“Why?”
“Because it matters to me.”
Her heart fluttered. When was the last time anyone had cared about her, or her safety?
“I’m going to be fine,” she promised him. “I have the survival skills of an alley cat. I promise.”
It didn’t feel like she’d won him over, but he nodded slowly. “Sign the papers,” was all he said, and then he strode across the room, to where his laptop was sitting, and lifted the contract from beside it. He held her gaze as he walked back towards her and then placed it on the table.
She flicked through it, but having already read it carefully, she simply found the section entitled remuneration, crossed out the obscene amount mentioned and wrote, ‘zero’.
“Initial, please,” she said, determined that he should know she was serious.
His laugh was a harsh bark, but a moment later, he took the pen and scrawled ‘RH’, then turned the page and signed on a blank line. He handed the pen back to her, watching as she did the same, then placed the pen on top of the first page.
“There,” she said, voice breathless and husky. She lifted a hand up and curved it around his cheek. “Is that better?”
It should have been better. It should have felt better and yet, to Roman, it was suddenly so much worse.
So much more dangerous. Because there was no longer a single obstacle standing in the way of kissing her, of taking her to bed and making her his, just as he’d been secretly wanting to almost since the first moment she entered his life.
But something held him back.
He’d thought it was the contract—it was a non-negotiable for Roman to have a solid NDA in place before he got close with anyone. But now? It was something more.
Kate was threatening, despite the paperwork.
He’d already told her more than he should have; more than he had any other woman he’d been involved with.
He’d mentioned Grace, for god’s sake, and he never spoke about Grace.
He couldn’t bear to. How he’d failed his sister was his burden to share—only Tia understood that.
And yet, with Kate, he felt as though there was a part of her that instinctively understood. It didn’t matter what he said; she just seemed to get him.
“So we have a deal,” she said—case in point. Knowing he needed this reassurance in that moment. “On the morning of the fifteenth, you’ll wake up and I’ll be gone—like Cinderella, except I don’t have a single glass slipper to leave.”
“And I won’t search the kingdom for you,” he said, to himself, as much as her.
“That’s our agreement.”
He wanted to kiss her, and he was pretty sure she wanted that, too. But kissing her was the beginning of a path that felt tangled and unclear.
“Would you like a glass of wine?”
She blinked up at him, clearly confused, as though he’d given her whiplash.
That made two of them. He just needed some space; some breathing room.
A moment to regain his grip on the situation, his control, so he could do it justice.
Otherwise this thing had the power to run away from them.
It was like trying to contain a lightning bolt with his bare hands.
“Sure,” she recovered quickly, with the professional abilities of someone who’s had to do a lot of mask-wearing in their life. Which devastated him. Her childhood sounded as fucked up as his own had been, and Kate deserved so much better.