CHAPTER24
A small flash startles me abruptly.
Damn.
They call out his name from beside us, but he pays no attention, leading me towards our destination while pulling me close against his body. His grip tightens, keeping me by his side. I lower my chin, watching my feet, and for the first time, I'm grateful that my hair shields my face. We continue walking, and despite my reservations, there's something disturbingly reassuring about being led by him. Surprisingly, I feel safer than I expected.
The photographers are stopped by tall, uniformed doormen just beyond the enormous glass doors. In the quiet air, a voice from the paparazzi shrieks, "Mr. Carrero, are you here to see Daniel Hunter?" Another one shouts, "Are you consoling your friend over his breakup with the porn star, Candy Kane?"
I cringe.
What the hell? He mentioned someone important, not a damn porn star!
"Jake?" A male voice greets us from inside the lobby, and I'm introduced to Daniel Hunter, another billionaire playboy from a wealthy family. The two men fist bump in a laddish way and perform that typical guy arm-embrace, bumping shoulders in a macho manner. I watch in disbelief as my boss acts like a street thug, while his friend drags along a leggy supermodel-like creature.
He got over his porn star pretty quickly.
Daniel noticeably sizes up my appearance. "She's not your usual type," he smirks, his eyes openly undressing me.
Laughing, Jake nods towards the disinterested bimbo. "She's definitely yours, though." Daniel grins. Instantly, I dislike him. He's tall and well-built like Jake, but he sports sandy blonde hair and dark brown eyes. He's handsome in a classic American way, but there's something shifty about his features. Sleazy, maybe.
The other girl appears bored. With her dark hair cascading over fake breasts, she stands tall in stilettos and a short playsuit. She picks at her red nails as we continue, following Daniel back into the hotel.
Jake keeps hold of my hand. Glancing back at the lenses pointed through the glass entrance, he throws an arm around my shoulders, shielding my face from view. Internally, I freeze. My lungs refuse to function, constricting with panic.
"Try to relax; you're tense," he says, smiling down at me. It's a close enough proximity that most onlookers would assume he lightly kissed me, and I know he's deliberately creating that impression. Holding my breath, I'm suddenly overwhelmed by how good he smells and how good it feels to have him so close. It's unexpectedly sensual, and intimacy sends me into full-blown panic mode.
Reacting instinctively, I defensively lift a hand to his chest as my heart pounds wildly, ready to push him away. Overwhelmed and scared, I can't handle the closeness. He grasps my fingers with his free hand, gently holding them, masking my reaction and making it appear as something entirely different.
Focusing on my breathing, I attempt to block out the creeping fear overwhelming me.
Don't fall apart. Keep yourself together, Emma. It's just pretend, and he's barely even touching you.
"I have a suite," Daniel winks at us, as if implying something is going on, and I nearly faint. "I figured I would have a use for it afterward," he says, glancing toward the leggy, bored supermodel who seems as enthusiastic about it as she is about being here. I grimace and flush at his insinuation.
Jake releases me as soon as we enter the elevator, throwing me a smile as if in approval. However, I don't respond; I'm too preoccupied with calming my pounding heart and normalizing my breathing.
Upon reaching the desired floor, we follow Daniel, who already has his key card in hand.
"I took the liberty of ordering breakfast. I know you like to eat, Jakey-boy," he grins at Jake, receiving a smile in return.
"I'm starving, and I'm sure Emma needs to eat too."
I nod shyly, still shell-shocked and quiet as I recover. I hadn't had time to eat this morning, but I'm not sure how he could even know that.
Finally, in the hotel room, I feel disconcerted and foolish. This whole situation has left me completely unsettled. The heat from Jake's hands lingers where he touched me, a lasting sensation as though they're still there. I mentally shake myself and pull myself together as best I can.
I need to stop overthinking this.
