Chapter 4

I sighed and shook my head, but even the noise I made seemed forced, as if I were trying to push away what was directly in front of me. It was hard to ignore this reality.

An unrecognized number flashed on the screen of my cellphone on the coffee table. But I didn’t need to check the caller ID to know who it was. When Roman Lysander had given it to me, I had nearly memorized it.

I sat there staring at the phone for a few moments, telling myself to let it go to voicemail. But my hand moved almost of its own accord, pressing Accept, holding the phone to my ear, and asking, “Hello.”

Despite my exhaustion, and despite the truth screaming at me, I found myself gazing at my now-closed laptop. I had no intention of declining Roman Lysander’s offer.

That realization, more than anything else, terrified me.

Roman had approached the Clover office three days prior and asked me out. For three days, I had been mulling over what I’d discovered about him online.

I felt torn about what I should do versus what I was actually going to do. For 24 hours, I struggled internally. I should have declined, told Roman I was unwell, or that I’d be out of town, or offered any plausible excuse for why I couldn’t meet him.

Yet here I was, staring at the clock on the wall, waiting for Roman to pick me up for our date.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment, trying to regain my composure and avoid embarrassing myself. Nerves, anxiety, eagerness, and worry swirled inside me. But beneath it all were two much stronger emotions: arousal and exhilaration.

I glanced down at myself after opening my eyes, smoothing my hands over the clothes I’d chosen for tonight. I selected a black knit dress that hugged my curves and featured button detailing along the front, as Roman had suggested a casual dress code. I completed the look with a synthetic leather jacket that reached my waist. I lifted my gaze to the small round mirror in the entryway.

I’d straightened my dark-blonde hair, leaving it down to a few inches below my shoulders. I wore minimal makeup: blush, eyeshadow, mascara, and a touch of nude lipstick.

In the little foyer where the front door was, I gazed at my reflection. I looked calm and collected on the outside, but I felt anything but on the inside.

I had never considered myself to be subservient or gentle. I usually wore my heart on my sleeve. A part of me knew I’d question Roman about what I’d discovered online during dinner. I’m naturally curious, so letting it slide was a big deal for me.

Did I believe he’d be honest with me? No. But I liked to think I could read people well. And I wanted to believe that if he did lie, it was for a good reason. Perhaps to protect me. Though I admitted to being naive and somewhat irrational for thinking that way.

Since my apartment was at the back of the building, I couldn’t see Roman coming up the street even if I glanced out the window. Despite giving him my apartment number, I decided to go down and wait for him on the street. It seemed more practical than having him drag me up three flights of stairs only to come back down.

Besides, having him come up to my place felt too personal. With a man like Roman, I preferred to have a bit more control over the situation than I did now.

I grabbed my bag, checked my makeup once more, and ran a hand through my hair as I looked in the mirror. I turned, reached for the doorknob, and opened the front door.

When I saw Roman’s large, imposing figure standing on the other side, I let out a tiny squeal of surprise. My cheeks flushed from the intensity of his gaze, and his hand was raised as if he was about to knock.

He looked impeccable in his white button-down shirt, which highlighted his broad chest and muscular build. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his vein-ridged, powerful forearms.