I’m close to collapsing by floor nine as we climb up to his penthouse, and Miller’s knowing look is a clear sign that he can detect my regret. But my hot face and aching calves also remind me of the first question I’d like to ask. He unlocks his black shiny door and stands to the side, holding it open for me and revealing the inside of his palatial apartment. The urge to run overwhelms me. ‘I’m not allowed to physically restrain you, so I beg you don’t run away from me.’ I turn my face up to his and find blue eyes full of pleading. He’s being that respectful, loving man, the one I love most of his split personalities. ‘I won’t run,’ I promise, stepping over the threshold and tentatively rounding the table in the entrance hall. The front door shuts behind me and Miller’s fancy shoes click on the marble as he approaches. ‘Would you like some wine?’ he asks, removing his jacket and draping it neatly over the back of a chair.
