‘Julian invited us here and as I understand it, you have a contractual obligation to go through with this. So we’re not leaving.’

His eyes blazed. It was like staring into an inferno. It made her eyes water, her throat close. ‘You’ve got twenty minutes to pack your things—’ His voice was a low growl.

‘No,’ she said again, ice to his fire. ‘You don’t need to like me. You just have to work with me.’

His mouth curled into a sneer. For someone so beautiful, he could be grotesque too. ‘You’re not listening, Clover Phillips. I don’t give a damn what Julian Orsini-fucking-Rosenberg wants. I don’t need his sponsorship that mu—’

She heard the scrape of a chair and suddenly Ari was standing beside them, between them, his hand on Kit’s shoulder. ‘Mate, you’re hung to hell. We all are. Now’s not the time for discussions. Why don’t we all just take a minute and work things out when our heads are clearer? Hey?’

He looked at Clover and subtly jerked his head towards the stairs, in a gesture intended to convey her immediate departure.

‘That’s probably best,’ she said quietly. She didn’t want to run from him – with Cory she’d needed to establish a position of trust, but with Kit she saw she had to establish a position of strength from the start. But Ari was throwing them both a lifeline here. ‘We’ll leave you to enjoy your breakfast in peace.’

At the mention of ‘we’, Johnny and Matty pushed their chairs back too and came over to her, standing around her in a huddle. There was a brief silence as their opposing parties faced off, then Clover turned and walked away.

She was amazed her legs supported her and as she rounded the corner, out of sight in the stairwell, she put a hand to the wall for support.

‘Fuck!’ Johnny whispered, catching up with her. ‘That was savage.’

But Clover wouldn’t say a word until they were safely back in the bedroom. She waited for the door to be closed as she began to pace, her hands on her hips and her face upturned to the ceiling. Her heart rate was at triple time. She had never encountered someone so stridently aggressive before. He had only used his words, his voice, his bulk, yet she felt like she’d been roughhoused. She’d never been in a physical fight in her life, but her nervous system was telling her it felt just like that.

‘That was intense,’ Johnny said, watching her with a concerned expression. ‘He looked like he wanted to burn you to the ground.’

‘He does,’ Clover muttered.

Matty put out a hand to stop her pacing, to force her to look at them. ‘You okay?’

‘. . . Sure,’ she lied.