Page 71 of Obsessed with Her

"Powers Udow." My colleague accepts the hand, but a quick look at his face is enough to see that he is scared to death.

He stands up, silently, and picks up his backpack without making eye contact with me.

Excellent!

When I accepted the invitation for lunch, it didn't even cross my mind to make him a fling or anything like that—only to make friends. But honestly, I don't want to be friends with someone who runs away at the slightest hint of danger.

He says goodbye quickly, and the arrogant Greek, the last person I want to see right now, takes his place.

"Your friend must be in a hurry," he says sardonically.

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Why not?"

"Because people will think we're together." I get up too and exit the diner, leaving him to pay the bill.

I see a security guard walk towards me, but I ignore him. Luckily for me, a taxi is passing by at that very moment, and I get into it, giving the driver my address. He takes off, and when I look back, I see Ares standing on the sidewalk, shooting poison darts out of his eyes.

I haven't been in my apartment five minutes when I hear the door open.

How could he have arrived so quickly? He must have been on a motorcycle.

"Get out. You can't come in like this. It's my house."

"What the hell was that? Why did you run away? By the way, why did you run away all day?"

"I understood your message,guardian. The usual flowers and also the jewelry."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not stupid. To silence your conscience for not having visited me over the last two years, you always sent me three dozen calla lilies and a piece of jewelry. Even after everything that happened yesterday, you returned to your old routine, treating me like a child."

"I sent your favorite flowers and a piece of jewelry made just for you, as I have done over the past few years."

"What?"

"I know that you didn't open any of the ones I gave you in the past. Yesterday, when I was leaving your room, I saw all the untouched boxes inside your closet. I wanted to understand why, so I sent one more today as a test."

"A test? Exclusive jewelry? Wasn't it with my money that you bought them? I thought you had your secretary send them or something. In the romance books I've read, the arrogant tycoon doesn’t even bother to buy jewelry for his exes. He orders his secretary to do it."

He doesn't say anything, and I'm not stupid: it's clear he's done that with girlfriends too.

But not with me?

I leave him alone in the living room and run to the closet. I take out all the boxes I've never opened and sit on the floor with them around me, including the one I got today.

When I start to unpack them, I feel like crying. They are all ballet-themed, but clearly unique. They also have deep blue stones, the same color as my eyes.

I look up and see him standing in the closet doorway, his jaw clenched.

We don't say anything, but I don't need words right now. The gifts say a lot because now I know he thought of me when he sent each one of them.

I stand up, and he watches me like a hunter watching his prey as he considers his next meal. There's not a hint of humor or softness in his expression, but I've just discovered that I like the danger he exudes.

Without saying anything, I throw myself into his arms. He picks me up and buries his head in the crook of my neck, biting with relative force. The sting of pain excites me.

"Don't run away from me again."

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