Dark Savior: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (24 page)

Of course, that is not a story I am willing to share.

“Careful investment with little starter cash,” I lie. “It took some time, but if you play the market well and don’t lose your head over hasty decisions, it can be done.”

“Mhm,” she says, dreamingly looking down at her empty glass.

She is starting to falter. It is barely visible, but her stance has lost a lot of its stability, and I can tell that she is struggling not to let it show.

I glance over to her friend. The black haired girl is no longer paying attention to us, but is deeply immersed in a conversation with another guy who is towering over her, possessively shielding her from others in their immediate proximity.

I know she will be informed about whatever will happen tonight. Yet another reason for me to be careful.

“I think you could need some fresh air,” I suggest.

She raises her head, her cheeks blushing even more than before.

“Care to take a step outside?” I ask—and she doesn’t hesitate one second before she nods.

CHAPTER TEN

Nike

My head is spinning. It’s the alcohol for sure, but also the fact that this man is actually showing interest in me. This incredibly handsome, wealthy man!

He is so out of my league! How can he not see it?

When I stumble back to Amanda and her boss to let her know that he just asked to step outside with me, she casts me the broadest grin I have ever seen on her face.

“You go girl!” She cheers, luckily in a whisper that no one but me hears. “Go with him! I knew all you needed was a little nudge in the right direction!”

I hesitate and throw a quick look back over my shoulder. He is watching me from afar, his face unreadable.

“We’re just getting some fresh air,” I say, turning back to Amanda. Even I don’t believe that and I cannot blame her and boss for exchanging a suggestive look.

“Text me, if you’re not coming home,” she says, winking at me. “Just so I don’t have to worry.”

“Yes, Mom,” I joke, sticking my tongue out to her, before I turn around and make my way back to him.

Joe Mars.

He is standing where I left him, tall, dark, with his legs slightly apart, hands in his suit pants’ pockets and his broad shoulders pulled back. A faint smirk appears on his face when I get back to him. He places his hand on my lower back and gently pushes me toward the exit of the venue.

When we reach the elevator, he pushes the button for going up instead of down. I look up at him in surprise.

“I thought we’re stepping outside?” I ask, hugging my little clutch as if I was trying to protect myself from him.

He winks at me. “We are. I just prefer the view from up there.”

“Is there a terrace on the roof?” I want to know.

“I don’t know,” he replies, shrugging. “We will have to find out for ourselves. I just have a thing for rooftops.”

I flinch at his words, trying to fight the colder shudder that takes a hold of me.

Of course, he notices.

“You don’t?” he probes.

I shake my head. “Not in particular.”

That’s a huge lie. Rooftops have always been my escape. The one place I felt comfortable in.

Until that night…

“You seem distressed,” he says when we step inside the elevator.

I shake my head.

“It might be a little cold,” I try to interject.

He ignores me and pushes the button for the top floor.

“We won’t stay long,” he says. “Just to clear the head a little. I think a fresh breeze would do you good.”

He gives me a look from the side, somewhat dangerous and threatening. The elevator starts moving and I am almost surprised that he doesn’t make a move to get closer to me. Grab me. Kiss me. Isn’t that what they do in the movies once the guy has the girl lured into the privacy and confinement of an elevator?

But he is a gentleman, it seems. He keeps his distance, even though I am sure he can feel the tension between us just as much as I can. He has to. It’s undeniable.

I’m almost disappointed when the door opens and reveals an empty hallway in front of us. He beckons me to step out before him.

“Now what?” I ask, sounding a bit more bitchy than I planned.

“Now we’ll find a way to get on the roof,” he says, stepping out of the elevator behind me. He scans the hallway, but there is not much to see. It is just one long corridor that gives way to a bunch of doors, all of them looking exactly the same. The hall is painted in a light gray and lit with bright and unflattering lights.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be up here,” I whisper.

He nods. “Probably not.”

I expect him to turn back to the elevator to bring us back down and head out on the street as I originally thought we would, but instead he takes my hand and leads me across the corridor.

“What are you—”

“I like being in places that I’m not supposed to be in,” he says. His voice has changed. He sounds more like an excited boy right now than the sullen man he was before.

“I said I want to go up on the roof,” he adds. “So that’s what we’ll do.”

“But how?” I ask while he keeps pulling me along the hallway.

He is checking every door as we walk by, but I don’t know what he is looking for. They all look the same and seem to be locked. He tries a few of them and checks the locks on them, but none open.

“Ah!” he exclaims as we reach one of the last doors on the right. He squats in front of the door handle and examines the lock in more detail, while I stand next him, confused.

He looks up at me, casting me a mischievous smile.

“Don’t tell anyone about this,” he says. “This will be our little secret.”

“Um,” I utter, unsure what is going on.

“Can you keep a secret?” he asks, and his gaze darkens. It’s intimidating. I don’t know if he is trying to scare me of if he is just joking around.

Either way, it excites me.

“Sure,” I say, trying to sound cool.

“Look away,” he orders.

“What? But w—”

“Look away!” he repeats, now glaring at me. “It’s for your own safety. If you don’t see anything, you don’t know anything. Simple as that.”

I furl my eyebrows, but follow his command.

“What are you doing?” I ask, once my back is turned to him.

“What do you think I’m doing?” he retorts. I can hear him fiddling with the lock.

“Something you’re not supposed to,” I assume. “Breaking into a door.”

“I’m not breaking anything,” he objects. “I’m opening a door. But you’re right, I’m not supposed to be doing this.”

“How do you know that this one leads out to the rooftop?” I want to know. “It could just be some storage or… whatever.”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “But I have a strong suspicion that it does.”

I hear a click sound and turn around just in time to see him get back up on his feet and open the door. A cold breeze greets us as he slowly pushes it open.

“Thought so,” he says triumphantly, beckoning for me to step outside.

I gulp and hesitate for a moment. A sudden and inexplicable fear claims me as I see the rooftop in front of me.

It’s a different roof. A different building. A different area. Everything is different, except for the fact that it is night and that I am standing high above the city when I step outside.

Yet something causes me to feel exceptionally uncomfortable.

Is it him?

I turn around and see him standing closely behind me. The heavy door closes with a loud click behind us, reminding me that he just fiddled with the lock for a few seconds to open it.

“How did you learn how to do this?” I ask.

He smiles at me. “Boy scouts.”

I furl my eyebrows and throw him a skeptical look.

He laughs and steps forward, placing one hand on my shoulder to guide me forward.

“Don’t worry about it,” he whispers. “Let’s get some air and enjoy the view.”

We walk toward the edge of the roof. It is securely surrounded by a high balustrade that almost reaches up to my chest.

Still, I cannot help the feeling that something is off, something is wrong. I feel as if I am in danger, a feeling that would be easy to explain if I didn’t have this particular rooftop affinity. Despite the height and despite the rather risky steps I have been willing to take to get to where I wanted to, I have never felt unsafe or as if I was putting my life in danger.

Rooftops are my safe place. 

So, why am I feeling this way?

We stop in front of the balustrade and I place my elbows on it, taking a deep breath as I take in the marvelous view that stretches in front of me.

He stops next to me and does the same—and I look at him from the side.

It’s him. His presence is what’s disturbing my comfort. But how can that be?

Because he is a stranger? I don’t trust strangers.

There is no reason not to trust him, though. A patron for charity. A handsome, wealthy man who has been attending a fundraiser for a good cause. Why would I be afraid of someone like him?

He turns to me and our eyes meet for a split second before I turn away, directing my attention back to the city below us.

“Nice, isn’t it?” he wants to know.

I nod. “Yeah, it is.”

His eyes remain on me, while I stare straight ahead, trying to hide the nervousness that his gaze causes.

“Why are you so tense?” He asks, his voice as deep and calm as always. “Am I making you nervous?”

“Indeed you are,” I admit.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “But you were the one approaching me, remember.”

“Yeah.”

“Because there was a bet to win,” he continues.

“Mhm.”

“And now?”

I turn around and look up at him. He is smiling. There’s something malicious about his smile.

“Any dark secrets you’d like to share with me?” he asks.

His question startles me. He looks at me as if he knew. As if he knew that there’s something that I have not been able to tell anybody. A dark secret, indeed.

For a few moments, I find myself wondering whether he might be working for the police. I don’t know how that would even be possible, but what if he was some kind of secret agent? Or a detective?

I chuckle. How ridiculous.

“What’s so funny?” he probes, frowning at me.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m just a little paranoid.”

“Paranoid?”

He raises one his eyebrows and leans over to me, supporting himself on his elbows on the balustrade as he turns all of his attention to me.

“What do you have to be paranoid about?”

Ugh. Why did I have to use that word?

“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head.

“You’re a weird one,” he says, touching my arm as he comes closer to me. I can feel his warmth on my upper arm, radiating from the strong muscles that grace his biceps.

Suddenly, he is very close to me, all of him. I can almost feel his breath on my face when he leans closer, trying to catch my eyes with his.

“Look at me,” he orders, when I try to shy away from him. I do as I am told and raise my eyes up to him, my eyes locking on to his dark hazel gaze.

“Why do I have a feeling that you’re hiding something from me?” He asks.

“Because I am,” I whisper.

His eyebrows arch in surprise. “Are you now?”

“Of course,” I say. “We just met, Mr. Mars. There wasn’t much time to let you in on a lot of things—”

“That’s not what I mean,” he interrupts. “I think you’re hiding something. Not only from me. And it has nothing to do with us not knowing each other.”

I try not to let it show, but his words scare me. Our eyes are still locked onto each other and his dark, hazel stare seems to drill right through me. I feel as if he can read my thoughts.

I try to flee from his gaze and want to turn my head away, but he doesn’t let me. His hand is on my chin, holding it between his thumb and finger and forcing my attention back to him.

Why is he doing this? This gorgeous man looks at me as if I am the most interesting, most enticing living thing he has ever seen. His interest in me confuses me almost as much as it flatters me.

I don’t even think to resist when he claims me with a kiss.

CHAPTER ELEVEN