Page 66 of His to Protect
"Of course, please take all the time you need." He studied my expression over the rim of his glass. "I did notice that your rooming situation was eventually resolved. How is that particular arrangement working out for you?"
"Everything's fine."
"Hmm." He tilted his head, his eyes scanning my face for any sign of weakness. "Riven is undeniably a brilliant surgeon, but he isn't the easiest man to work with. I can only imagine that living with him presents its own unique set of challenges."
I turned to look him directly in the eye. "Is there a point you're trying to make, August?"
"Merely making conversation with a colleague." His smile remained perfectly pleasant.
"I'm perfectly comfortable where I am."
"Are you?" He gave me a knowing look that made my skin crawl.
"Excuse me. I need to find my group."
I turned and hurried toward the exit, desperate for air away from the suffocating crowd.
The elevator ride back up to the fourteenth floor felt like it lasted for several hours. Every floor that passed brought me closer to the room I had to share with the man I could not stop thinking about.
I stood outside door 1447 for a long minute, gripping my key card until my knuckles turned white. The electronic lock clicked open, and I pushed my way into the dim room.
Riven was standing by the large window, looking out at the city lights below. He had removed his suit jacket and loosened his tie, his white sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms.
He held a glass containing a small amount of amber liquid, and an empty miniature bottle of whiskey sat on the table beside him. His other hand was shoved deep into his pocket. He turned his head the moment I entered, and our eyes locked in the silence of the room.
For several heartbeats, neither of us said a word as the silence between us pulled tight like a wire.
"You decided to return from the reception early," he said finally, his voice sounding raspy.
"I wasn't in the right mood for networking tonight," I replied, setting my bag down on the chair.
"Neither was I," he admitted, turning his gaze back toward the window.
I kicked off my uncomfortable heels, trying to move naturally despite every nerve screaming awareness of his presence.
"Why didn't you just tell me to my face?" he asked quietly, his back still turned toward me.
I didn't pretend not to understand. "It felt like it would be easier for both of us if I put my resignation in writing."
"Easier for whom, exactly?"
"It felt like the more professional way to handle the transition," I argued, though my voice lacked conviction.
"Professional." He repeated the word with a grimace, as if it tasted foul. "You’re moving out of my home, and you chose to tell me through an email?"
"I honestly didn’t know how else to approach the conversation without it becoming difficult."
"You could have just talked to me. We could have sat down like two adults and discussed it."
"Would a face-to-face conversation have changed the end result, Riven?" I stared at him, barely breathing.
He didn’t offer an answer to that question, which felt like an answer in itself. I walked over to the window and stood a few feet away from him.
"August offered me a very good position at his hospital," I said, trying to justify my choice. "It comes with better pay and a spot in a specialized cardiac unit. It's a significant opportunity for my career."
"I'm aware of what he offered," he replied sharply.
"And I found a two-bedroom apartment for Mom and me. It's not a mansion, but it's ours."
