Page 28 of One Midnight Kiss

Finally, she huffed out a breath and stomped toward my car like a petulant child. I opened the passenger door for her, allowing her to slip inside. I got in on the driver’s side and closed the door, feeling a little victorious despite myself. I cranked up the heat and turned on the seat warmers.

“Where to?” I asked, glancing over at her. She was staring straight ahead, her teeth chattering. “I’ll take you home.”

“Just call me an Uber,” she snapped. “I can handle it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why are you being so difficult?”

She turned to me then, her eyes narrowing. “Because I don’t invite men back to my house. Ever. Period.”

“Can I call a tow? Triple A?”

“I’ll deal with that later,” she said. “I’ll call roadside assistance to unlock my car so I can get my phone and purse.”

“Do you know the number?” I asked.

She frowned. “My insurance card is in my car.”

I nodded, kind of figuring that was where it would be. I sat back, studying her. The rain drummed on the roof of the car, filling the silence as I waited for her to make the decision. She wasn’t just being difficult. She was being guarded. She didn’t trust me—or anyone, it seemed.

I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to make her this way. My research on her had been brief. It was all surface level. Numbers, accolades, business deals. I knew she had been married and divorced, but clearly, there was some drama behind it. What would she say if she knew Christa had pushed for me to propose the fake engagement as a way to make me look better? A way to make the launch of my new tech successful. She would probably strangle me with her bare hands. That was not something I was going to bring up. Especially not now.

I sighed, realizing she needed help but was never going to ask for it. She would turn into a popsicle if someone didn’t step in. She was tough as nails and was clearly afraid to show any weakness. I didn’t want to make her feel less than or weak, but she couldn’t just sit out in the rain all night.

“I live nearby. You can warm up, get some dry clothes. I’ll call someone to sort out your car.”

Her jaw clenched. “I said, just call me an Uber.”

“Let me help you,” I said, more sharply than I intended. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked almost hurt. Then she closed herself off again, like a book snapping shut.

Without waiting for her response, I pulled out onto the road and headed toward my apartment.

She didn’t say a word the entire drive. I wasn’t going to add insult to injury by lecturing her about the danger of sitting out on the street alone. I wasn’t going to tell her she was being stubborn and foolish. I had a feeling she already knew all of that.

We got back to my place. She didn’t say a word as I unlocked the door. She said nothing as she stepped inside. I turned on the lights, watching as she took in my space. My penthouse was pretty basic. I knew I could afford something out in Montlake or Bellevue, but I didn’t want a house. It seemed silly to have a big ass mansion for just me. The apartment in the high-rise had everything I needed.

“Follow me,” I said, turning on more lights as I led her down the hallway. I walked into my room with her waiting in the doorway, like she was afraid to enter.

I grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie from my closet. I motioned toward the bathroom. “You can change in there.”

She hesitated for a second, then took the clothes from me without meeting my eyes. I watched the door close behind her and ran a hand over my face, feeling more drained than I should have. I didn’t usually care this much about anyone’s problems but my own.

I made a few phone calls while she was changing, arranging for her car to be towed to a shop my brother swore by. The weather was getting worse by the minute, the rain now mixed with sleet, and the roads would be a mess for hours.

When Natalia finally came out of the bathroom, she looked like a completely different person. Her hair, which I’d thought was straight, had curled into wild, dark waves that framed her face. She wasn’t wearing any makeup. She looked younger, softer. Vulnerable.

She was my damsel in distress.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice coming out gentler than I’d expected.

She glanced up at me through her thick lashes, and for the first time, I saw it—the broken pieces she was trying so hard to hide. It made me feel like a complete asshole for pushing her earlier.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly.

I didn’t believe her for a second, but I didn’t press. Instead, I went to the fridge, grabbed a beer, and handed it to her.

“I don’t have much else,” I admitted with a shrug. “Unless you want a protein shake.”

She took the beer, her fingers brushing mine briefly. It was such a small touch, but it sent a jolt through me. I cleared my throat and leaned against the counter, watching her as she took a sip.