Miller turns and my gaze that was happily focused on his buns is now staring at something else firm and smooth and . . . ready. My eyes fly up to shimmering blues but a straight face. And I blush. Why do I blush? My cheeks are on fire as he regards me, my bare feet shifting as I’m bombarded by pure, raw, inexorable shots of heated desire. I’ve lost my poise completely. My earlier resolution is being beaten down by his intoxicating presence.

‘I want to worship you,’ I breathe, reaching back with shaking hands and unhooking my bra, letting it drop down my arms and tumble to my feet. His eyes drop to my knickers and I do as I’m silently bid, removing them slowly. Now we’re both na**d and his desire mixed with mine is creating a heady cocktail that’s rife in the quiet air around us. I nod to the bath. It’s that or fall to my knees and beg him to indulge me with some Miller-style worshipping, but I need him to see I’m strong, that I can help him.

Licking his lips is his last-ditch attempt to make me fold. I struggle terribly but manage to sustain my strength, nodding to the bath again. His mouth doesn’t smile, but his eyes do. He climbs the steps and settles in the bubbly water.

‘Would you do me the honour of joining me?’ he asks quietly.

I answer by taking the steps unhurriedly, using the time to weigh up my best position, settling on behind him. A c**k of my head tells him to shift forward, which he does with a very slight pucker of his brow, allowing space behind him for me to sink into. I spread my thighs, slide my hands over his shoulders, and pull him back to my chest. His dark, wet waves tickle the side of my cheek and his body is a little heavy, despite the water lightening him, but I’m coiled around him, breathing him into me, giving him my thing.

‘This feels so nice.’ His voice is soft and low. Peaceful.

I hum my agreement, encasing his shoulders with my arms, undoubtedly restricting his movement, yet there are no complaints. He answers my constriction by relaxing his head back and feeling out my lower legs that are linked and resting on his stomach.

‘This isn’t going to be easy.’ His words are spoken with an edge of pain. They confuse me. I already know that.

‘It wasn’t easy yesterday or the day before, but you had fight in you. What’s changed?’

‘A reality check.’

I want to see his face, but I worry what I might find in his eyes if I do. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Some decisions I’m not at liberty to make.’ He utters the words quietly, reluctantly. The stiffening of my body is unavoidable, and I know he’s noticed because he squeezes my calves almost in reassurance. I’m not sure Miller feels any reassurance himself, so trying to comfort me is a silly venture.

I try to process what that could mean and come up with no obvious answer. ‘Elaborate,’ I instruct sternly, making him turn his face into my cheek and bite down lightly.

‘As you wish.’

‘I do,’ I affirm.

‘I’m chained to this life, Olivia.’ He doesn’t look at me when delivering his shocking declaration, making me gently cup his rough cheek and pull his face up so I can see him, all the while Tony’s words bouncing around in my head.

I use his one-word demand again. ‘Elaborate.’ Then I kiss him tenderly on his beautiful mouth, hoping I’ll give him back some of the strength he fills me with. Our mouths move slowly together, and I know he’ll make it last for ever if I don’t break it, so I do. Grudgingly. ‘Tell me.’

‘I’m indebted to them.’

I try to keep a brave face, but those words fill me with dread. There are two questions I need to ask in response to his statement and I can’t decide which should take priority. ‘Why are you indebted to them?’

He blinks on an uncomfortable sigh. I can see him becoming more and more reluctant as the conversation progresses and the enlightenments unfold. His minimal answers are a sign. He’s making me ask, rather than openly share. ‘They gave me control.’

Another puzzling answer, leaving a huge hole for further questioning. ‘Elaborate.’ I sound impatient when I’m trying my hardest not to be.

He breaks free from my palm and rests his head back. ‘Remember me explaining about my talent?’

I stare down at the back on his head, wanting to remind him of his manners. ‘Yes.’ My reply is slow and cautious. It makes him shift slightly.

‘My talent earned me a certain amount of freedom.’

‘I don’t understand.’ I’m beyond confused.

‘I was a regular male prostitute, Livy. I had no control nor received any respect.’ He spells it out, making me flinch. ‘I ran away from the orphanage when I was fifteen. Spent four years on the streets. That’s how I met Cassie. I broke into empty houses for shelter.’ I gulp back my shock before I can interrupt his flow, but he turns and catches my stunned face. ‘Bet you never considered your man was an expert lock breaker.’

What does he want me to say to that? No, I didn’t, but I also never considered that he would be an escort, a drug addict . . . I halt that train of thought immediately. I could be here a while. And Cassie. She was homeless, too?

Miller smiles a little and turns back away from my startled face. ‘They found us. Put us to work. But I was beautiful and on top of that, I was good. So I was taken from the lowly and utilised to my full ability. Glamour and sex. I make them a fortune. I’m the Special One.’

I go cold, life itself draining from my body, horrible chills jumping onto my wet skin. It’s happening too often. And I’m struck dumb. Taken from the lowly? ‘You’re my special one.’ I can’t think of anything else to say, other than reinforcing my feelings for him, making him feel like more than a walking, talking pleasure machine. ‘You’re my special one, but special because you’re beautiful and adoring, not because you give me mind-blowing orgasms.’ I roughly kiss the back of his head, squeezing him to me.

‘But it helps, right?’

‘Well . . .’ I can’t say no. How he makes me feel physically is amazing, but it comes nowhere close to how he makes me feel emotionally.

He laughs lightly, annoying me, not because it’s quite inappropriate to find anything about this humorous but because I can’t see it. ‘You can say yes, Livy.’

I yank his face to mine, finding that mild boyish grin. ‘Fine, yes, but I love you for reasons other than your sexual capabilities.’

‘But I’m good.’ His grin widens.

‘The best.’

His grin falls away instantly. ‘Tony called me.’

I’m tense again. Everywhere. The cameras were off, but Tony saw me. Would he have told Miller? I can’t be certain, although Miller’s loss of control outside Ice that time should make Tony’s silence easy. He studies me, assessing my reaction. I must look as guilty as sin. ‘I—’

‘Don’t tell me.’ He turns away from me. ‘I’m likely to kill.’

My eyes dart all over the bathroom, mentally thanking every god in existence for Miller’s initiative in turning the cameras off. I hate that I reacted that way, and I hate that he predicted it. In an attempt to divert my guilt and Miller’s thinking, I prepare my next question. ‘And Cassie?’