At 8 o’clock sharp, Roman Gallagher burst into Chloe Carmichael’s bedroom and ordered her to take off the most beautiful dress she had ever owned.
Chapter 2
For several seconds, Chloe could not move.
Roman thrust the coat into her hands. “Put it on.”
She obeyed because the sound outside the room had stripped away every illusion she still possessed. This was no longer an argument between an employer and an employee. Somewhere beyond the bedroom door, armed men were entering the penthouse because a stranger she had trusted had offered them her life as currency.
Another burst of gunfire sounded in the distance.
Chloe flinched.
Roman immediately looked at her. Beneath the hard authority in his expression was something she had never seen before.
Fear for someone other than himself.
He opened the door. Declan stood outside, broad-shouldered and grim, holding a rifle across his chest.
“The Callahan crew came through the service levels,” Declan said. “Oliver gave them building information. They expected to grab her downstairs and use her to force a meeting.”
Chloe gripped the coat around herself.
Declan finally looked at her. “When you didn’t show, they changed plans.”
“They’re coming here?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Roman’s jaw clenched. “Take the east corridor. I’m moving Chloe through the study.”
Declan nodded and disappeared.
Roman caught Chloe’s hand.
She pulled back.
Even with gunfire echoing beyond the walls, some part of her remained stubbornly herself. “You do not get to drag me anywhere without telling me what’s happening.”
Roman stared at her.
Then, incredibly, he nodded.
“The Callahans are a Boston crew trying to take my territory. Oliver owed money to both sides. He promised them access to you because he believed threatening you would force me to negotiate.”
“Why would they think I mattered that much?”
Roman went still.
Chloe wished she could take the question back.
The hallway seemed to disappear. The distant shouting vanished beneath the silence between them.
Roman stepped closer.
“Because people have been watching me,” he said. “Apparently they noticed something I was trying very hard not to admit.”
Her heart began beating faster for an entirely different reason.
“What?”
“That you matter to me.”
“Roman—”
“For eight months I have watched you walk through this place as if you belonged in it more naturally than anyone who has ever visited.” His voice was low, stripped of command. “You laugh with the doorman. You know which flowers Mrs. Alvarez downstairs likes. You remember how Declan takes his coffee, even though he has never once thanked you properly.”
Despite everything, Chloe almost smiled.
Roman continued. “And every morning, this place feels less dead because you’re in it.”
Chloe stared at him.
“That doesn’t give you the right to order me around.”
“No.”
“Or decide who I date.”
“No.”
“Or call me yours.”
His eyes darkened. “That one may take work.”
“Roman.”
“I said work.”
The ridiculousness of the exchange cracked through Chloe’s terror. A breath escaped her that was almost a laugh.
Roman looked startled by it.
Then Chloe’s expression sobered. “You frightened me when you came into my room.”
Regret crossed his face.
“I know.”
“You made me feel like I had no choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
“Then remember that.”
“I will.”
The promise mattered because Roman Gallagher did not appear to make many promises.
A heavy crash sounded from the far end of the penthouse.
Roman moved instantly. He drew a handgun from beneath his jacket, then opened the door and checked the corridor.
“Now we go.”
This time, he held out his hand instead of taking hers.
Chloe looked at it.
Then she placed her hand in his.
They hurried through the penthouse. The home Chloe knew so well had become unfamiliar, transformed by security lights and armed men. The marble floors she polished every week now reflected men rushing toward danger.
Roman pulled her into his study.
He locked the door behind them and crossed to an old oil painting beside the bookshelves. Chloe had dusted that frame dozens of times without knowing what was hidden behind it.
Roman pressed his thumb to a concealed panel.
A section of shelving slid away.
Behind it stood a steel elevator.
“You have a secret elevator?” Chloe asked.
“I have several secrets.”
“I’m beginning to notice.”
He almost smiled.
They entered.
As the doors closed, an explosion shook the penthouse.
Chloe screamed.
The elevator dropped.
She stumbled, and Roman caught her.
Suddenly she was pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat hammer beneath his shirt. For all his outward calm, he was not calm at all.
“Look at me,” he said.
She lifted her face.
“No one is taking you.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“Yes, I can.”
“You’re not God.”
“No.” His mouth tightened. “But tonight I am extremely motivated.”
Another tremor traveled through the shaft.
Chloe closed her eyes.
Roman’s hand moved gently to the back of her head. “Breathe.”
She did.
When she opened her eyes, his face was inches from hers.
The moment that had begun in her bedroom returned between them—the confession unfinished, the years of restraint suddenly exposed.
“I need to ask you something,” Chloe whispered.
“Anything.”
“If none of this had happened tonight, would you ever have told me?”
Roman’s silence gave her the answer.
“You would have watched me leave with Oliver?”
“I was trying to.”
“Why?”
“Because you deserve a normal life.”
“And you decided that for me too.”
His eyes closed briefly.
Chloe shook her head. “You really do have a terrible habit.”
“I am discovering that.”
“Roman Gallagher admitting he has flaws. We should alert the newspapers.”
His eyes opened, and this time he smiled.
It transformed him.
For the first time Chloe saw the man beneath the reputation.
Then his expression turned serious.
“I was jealous,” he said. “Ugly, unreasonable, furious jealousy. But that was not why I stopped you.”
“I know.”
“I need you to believe that.”
“I do.”
The elevator slowed.
Roman’s hand remained at her waist.
Chloe should have stepped away.
She did not.
“What else do you need me to believe?” she asked.
His eyes moved to her mouth.
“That when I looked at you in that dress, I forgot how to be civilized.”
Heat rose into her face.
Roman lifted one hand, then stopped before touching her cheek.
“May I?”
The question surprised her more than anything that had happened all evening.
Chloe nodded.
His fingertips brushed her skin.
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
Tears stung her eyes.
She hated them immediately.
Roman frowned. “What did I say?”
“It’s not you.”
“Then what?”
Chloe swallowed. “Men say women like me are beautiful when they want us to be grateful. Or when they’re making a joke. Or when they want something they’d never admit to wanting in daylight.”
Roman’s face hardened.
“I spent years learning not to care,” she continued. “Then Oliver made me believe he actually saw me.”
“I see you.”
“That scares me more.”
“Why?”
“Because you could hurt me worse.”
Roman looked as if she had struck him.
Before he could answer, the elevator stopped.
The doors opened onto an underground garage filled with black SUVs and armed security.
Declan was already there.
“We have to move,” he said.
Roman guided Chloe toward the middle vehicle.
Behind them, alarms began screaming through the tower.
Chloe climbed into the back seat. Roman followed, and the armored convoy surged into Manhattan traffic.
Only when the building disappeared behind them did Chloe realize she was shaking.
“This is my fault,” she whispered.
Roman turned sharply.
“No.”
“If I hadn’t gone out with Oliver—”
“No.”
“If I hadn’t believed him—”
“Chloe.”
His voice stopped her.
“This is my world coming through your door,” he said. “Not yours entering mine.”
She looked away.
Roman gently took her hand.
“You trusted someone who lied well. That is not a crime.”
Outside, sirens streaked past.
Chloe looked at the man beside her. “What happens now?”
Roman glanced toward the rear window, where two vehicles followed them through the night.
“We go somewhere safe.”
“And after that?”
His hand tightened around hers.
“After that,” he said, “I make certain no one ever mistakes you for leverage again.”
