Page 10 of The Watcher's Bride

“I don’t have any plans yet,” I admit cautiously.

“Come over for dinner,” he suggests.

“I told you, I don’t date,” I reply.

Dating is too messy, too complicated. As much as my body might be responding like crazy to his presence, I’ve been burned in the past when I’ve considered letting a man I found attractive get close, only to immediately freeze up and be unable to go through with it. Much to his annoyance and my shame. I can’t imagine my hot new neighbor Max would be interested in a twenty-two-year-old virgin who’s terrified of intimacy. If he knew, he’d be running for the hills right now.

“And I don’t take no for an answer easily,” he says seductively. “Consider it a thank you, a housewarming party.”

“So others from the building are invited?” I ask.

“Sure,” he replies nonchalantly.

“Alright, next Saturday,” I agree.

“It’s a date,” he replies with a grin.

“Not a date!” I insist.

But I’m unable to keep the dopey grin from my face as I go inside my apartment and shut the door.

I’m in trouble with this one.

Chapter 8

Leo

Itold myself I’d only watch. I told myself I’d stay in the shadows.

But here I am… carrying boxes into the apartment across the hall from hers.

AsMax.

The brown contact lenses make my eyes sting, but they serve their purpose. When I first approached Nora, I’d been wearing gloves and a ski mask, but I know my eyes are distinctive, so that was the first thing I had to disguise. I have tattoos but as her watcher she wouldn’t know that.

I’d wondered how I could get closer to her, and luckily when I checked out her apartment block, I found this apartment was vacant. The family hadn’t had the heart to clear it out since the old man died, but the apartment had finally been listed—privately, discreetly. They were asking too much for it, which explained why it hadn’t been snapped up.

A short conversation, some made up reason why I wanted to sublet an apartment in the neighborhood for six months. A bank transfer. A forged identity. And I was in.

They were thankful. Apparently, Josef’s family had been carrying the costs and were relieved to have someone take it off their hands, even temporarily. They didn’t ask too many questions. Good. I don’t like answering them.

Now I’m inside. Close.

Her door is directly across from mine. I timed it—eight steps. Eight steps between me and the woman who’s been living in my head like a fever I can’t sweat out.

Nora.

Everything in me tells me what I’m doing is unhinged. Deranged. I should have reported back to Dimitri two weeks ago. Confirmed her identity. Given him what he wanted. Walked away.

But I didn’t.

Because every time I thought about her being handed over to that monster like some pure-blooded peace treaty, my chest burned like it was full of smoke. I didn’t want her to vanish into that gilded cage. So instead I told my uncle it was taking time. That I had to observe her more closely.

I watch her through the peephole sometimes. I know her movements better than she knows them herself. I can hear the soft shuffle as she walks past. The sound of her keys clinking together as she fumbles at her door. The quiet mutterings she says to her cat when she comes home. I memorize them all.

I’d planned to stay out of sight the first day. Let her get used to the idea of a new neighbor. But when her grocery bag tore open and spilled everything across the floor, instinct overrode strategy. She was down on her knees, cheeks flushed, mumbling to herself, and I couldn'tnotgo to her.

Seeing her up close again? It damn near knocked the breath from my lungs.

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