The wrong billionaire

ChapterFive

Harper’s POV

He was too close to me, his bare chest pressed against me, a warm jolt travelling through my skin. Damien’s eyes were on me, those dark clouds crashing into mine. His heart beat echoed from his body through mine, tugging at threads I didn’t know existed.

His warm breath teased my face as he lifted a finger, placing it against my lips. My eyes widened, just as a pair of footsteps came to a halt at the other side of the door. A rapt came next.

Neither of us moved.

“You’re sure he’s in there?” The voice asked.

Marcus.

I expected a response, but none came. He was on the phone.

“What do you mean you are not sure?” He barked after a minute. When he knocked the second time, Damien and I had grown too used to being in the same space, our lips sealed shut.

But it didn’t do anything to calm my racing pulse, or the flush that had erupted through every inch of my skin.

“Damien Knight is dead as far as Seattle knows. What if you are wrong about it?” Marcus continued. I could hear the frustration in his tone, but there was something else.

Reverence.

The person on the other end of the call must have been pretty important to make cocky Marcus worked up like that.

I heard him when he turned around and walked out of the hallway. But even then, I remained huddled in front of the door, with Damien right in front of me, his finger still on my lip.

He released a breath, and I felt the tension on that finger ease. Still, it didn’t drop. He looked at me, really looked at me, like he was seeing me for the first time.

I tried to see if this strange warmth in the pit of my stomach or the nerves racking through my bones had anything to do with Christian, but when those stormy eyes dropped to my lips, I felt another emotion.

Fear.

“Erm…” I cleared my throat, the tiny sound piercing abruptly through the silence. But that was all we needed to jump apart, for me to take a few steps backwards, tucking my hair behind my ear.

My eyes scanned every surface of the room like they were the most interesting things I had seen in my entire life.

I still felt him watching me, but he had pulled away, now lingering by the stack of boxes next to the door.

“You were saying…”

“Yeah….right. Erm…” My cheeks stung, and I just wished I could rush out of his apartment. It was either that or hope the earth would open up and take me with it.

But in that split second, my eyes fell on the clock hanging above the door.

“s**t!”

“What is it?” He leaned away from the boxes, something that resembled panic crossing his features.

“I have to use your bathroom,” I said in one breath, moving toward what I guessed was his room since all the flats were built similarly. Or so I thought.

Damien didn’t answer, watching me from underneath his lashes. I didn’t know if that was permission to go ahead, but then, I heard his soft sigh slicing through the air. “Last door on the left.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, keeping my eyes away from his as I brushed past him. My arm grazed his, and my skin tingled immediately, causing me to take in a sharp breath. I hated the way my body reacted.

It was wrong.

All of this was wrong.

For f**k’s sake, Christian just died.

Inside the bathroom, I shrugged out of the bathroom and turned the knob, heaving a sigh of relief when the water trickled out. Steam clouded the glass just as I stepped under the shower spray, intent on getting down with this as fast as possible.

I needed to get out of Damien’s hair.

Refusing to think of all the strange things that had happened, I brought my hands up, tangling my fingers in my hair. With closed eyes, I reached for the bathroom rack, tapping item after item, coming up empty.

Risking the water getting into my eyes, I opened them, my eyes falling on the nearly empty rack. There was no shampoo anywhere in sight.

“Christian,” I called without thinking, before I could stop myself. My voice was muffled by the running water, barely leaving the bathroom.

Nothing moved on the other side of the door.

“Ch…”

The door cracked open slightly. I didn’t see his head, but I knew he was there. “What do you need?”

“I’m so sorry, but erm…”

“I haven’t got all day.”

“Right.” I swallowed. “Do you have shampoo?”

He didn’t reply immediately, and a part of me thought this was probably a wrong idea, that I could have driven all the way to Cindy’s house. But in a minute, I heard the sound of footsteps, soft and calculated.

A knock on the glass came next. “Here.”

He was standing right outside the glass. I could see the outline of his form from the other end, a stoic expression on his face, his left hand clutching a white bottle. I pushed away from the door, trembling slightly as I pushed it open.

Damian had turned his back, holding the bottle out without looking. His fingers brushed mine for the tinniest second when I reached for it. Calloused, but warm. It was a small touch, but in that moment, I forgot how to breathe.

The apology and appreciation hung on my lips, but he was out of the bathroom in another second, leaving me to the blood roaring harshly against my ears. When the door clicked softly, I released my breath and closed my eyes, wondering what the hell was going on.

When I stepped out of the shower, I grabbed my robe again and padded out in bare feet. I heard my phone beep in the distance, and I increased my speed. That had to be a message from the company.

Marcus must have gotten there already. I still had no idea why he was here in the first place, or why he was searching for Damien.

“Damien, why is…”

My feet came to an abrupt halt when I moved into the living room, taking him in and my phone in his hands.

But that wasn’t what made me take a step back.

It was the look in his eyes, like he was about to burn the house to the ground. And then, very quietly, he said. “Humor me. Why were you f*****g my brother?”