Betrayed By The Billionaire

274

The master bedroom in the Bishop Manor was a landscape of elegant mahogany and silk, but for Chloe Bishop, it felt like a cage of high-stakes social duty. She watched Xavier Grayson as he remained silent, his profile as sharp and cold as carved obsidian.

"You mentioned a car accident on your way here," Chloe said, her voice carefully neutral as she tried to bridge the icy gap between them. "If you suspect it was intentional, it isn't safe to leave tonight. Stay here. At least for the night."

Xavier turned his head slowly, a mirthless, paper-thin smile touching his lips. "If it was intentional, then coming back with me is perfect. You can serve as my human shield."

A human shield?

The words weren't a joke; in Xavier’s ruthless world, they were a distinct possibility. Chloe felt her heart sink. The man standing before her wasn't a husband; he was a predator who viewed her as a tactical asset. Without a word, she bent down and scooped up Liam Jr., who was nodding off on the velvet sofa.

"I'm not going back," Chloe said, her voice firm. "If you want to leave, leave. But we are staying."

She turned and marched toward the stairs with the boy in her arms, leaving Xavier standing in the silence of the drawing room.

The Vulnerability of a Tyrant

By the time Chloe finished bathing Liam Jr. and tucking him into the soft guest linens, the boy was already in a deep sleep. She stepped out of the nursery to find Xavier sitting on the sofa in their suite, his back ramrod straight, radiating a lonely, untouchable arrogance.

She retrieved a set of his spare clothes from the wardrobe. "Do you want to shower first?"

Xavier shot her a glacial look. He stood up and strode toward the bathroom, but paused at the threshold when he realized she wasn't following. "Are you just going to stand there? Come in and run the water. I’m injured—do you honestly think I can manage this myself?"

Chloe didn't argue. She followed him into the steam-filled room, her movements mechanical. It’s just a bath, she told herself. It isn't like I haven't seen every inch of him before.

She sat on the edge of the marble tub, watching the water rise. The sound of the faucet was deafening in the silence. Even with two people in the room, the night felt more desolate than if she were entirely alone.

"It’s ready," she said, testing the temperature and standing up to leave.

"Don't mistake this for indulgence," Xavier said suddenly, his face an unreadable mask. "I am only staying because of the injury to my arm. It’s a matter of necessity, nothing more."

"Oh. I know," Chloe replied, her tone flat.

Xavier felt a surge of irritation. Why had he even bothered to explain? Perhaps it was the oppressive silence of the night. In the past, Chloe would have been a whirlwind of chatter, filling every void with her voice. This new, cold silence was an ill-fitting garment that made him profoundly uncomfortable.

The Breaking of the Zone

He shrugged off his heavy jacket, tossing it aside. Seeing Chloe standing there like a statue of white marble, he crooked a finger toward her. "Come here. Help me undress."

Chloe didn't hesitate. She stepped forward and reached for his belt, her fingers working with clinical efficiency. She kept her gaze low until the task was done, then looked up into his dark, brooding eyes.

"Should I continue?" she asked.

"Continue," Xavier commanded, his voice dropping an octave.

Chloe instinctively averted her eyes, but before she could pull away, Xavier’s hand shot out. He gripped the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her forward, crashing his lips against hers in a punishing, possessive kiss.

It lasted a long time—long enough for the ice in Chloe’s veins to thaw into a frantic heat. Her breath hitched, and a faint, involuntary flush crept up her neck. For the first time all day, Xavier felt a twisted sense of accomplishment. Seeing her react, seeing the crack in her armor, made the clouds in his mind momentarily part.

But the moment he released her, Chloe spoke, her voice laced with a biting irony that cut through the steam.

"I thought your lips were a forbidden zone?" she asked, her breathing still uneven. "You said I wasn't as good as the others. You said I was 'sickening.' So why do you keep touching me?"

She looked at him, her eyes searching his for an answer he wasn't ready to give. This was the third time in forty-eight hours. If he loathed her as much as he claimed, his actions were a loud, hypocritical lie.

The steam in the bathroom is thick with unspoken truths. Xavier is standing half-clothed and wounded, caught in a lie of his own making. Will he admit his attraction, or will he use his injury to force Chloe into a deeper level of submission before the night is through?