Fearless Hero

CHAPTER 7

Autumn

I had been the one to tell Brady that things needed to stay strictly professional between us, and as the days passed, controlling my less-than-professional thoughts about him had started to feel like one of the hardest things I’d ever done in my life. Every time I saw those muscular arms and luscious lips of his, I wanted to feel them all over my body again.

Occasionally, I would catch the way he looked at me, and hoped he felt the same as I did. But whenever I thought I saw a meaningful look in his eyes when he gazed at me, he’d abruptly turn away, leaving me wondering if I had imagined the whole thing.

It was unsettling how he had changed so drastically after his flirtations with me in the library that day my father had delivered the news he’d be working for us. He had wasted no time in reminding me of that passionate night we’d spent together in Turkey and had seemed to have all the confidence in the world about us reliving that night. Now, however, it sometimes seemed like he didn’t remember that night at all. His indifference toward me made me wonder if something had happened to change the way he felt about me.

Had seeing me in an everyday setting turned him off? Made him no longer think of me as attractive? Had he been fooled by my tight dress and makeup in Turkey, only to find out that the sexy woman he had encountered back then had only been an illusion?

Had he just been drunk when I first met him?

It drove me crazy trying to figure out why Brady no longer seemed remotely attracted to me. Not to mention, it was giving my self-esteem quite a beating.

My dating history wasn’t extensive, but I always contributed that to the fact that my life was so busy. Plus, so much of my time was spent with my father that there just wasn’t much room for dating. But with the way Brady was treating me, I now wondered if I just wasn’t all that appealing to men. While I had been blaming my busy schedule for my lack of a love-life, I now

worried that it was really because I couldn’t hold anyone’s interest for a significant amount of time.

I found myself growing more and more nervous each time Brady was around—my heart breaking a little more each time he seemed to consciously avoid getting too close to me.

I wanted to ask him flat out if there was a problem, but I just couldn’t work up the nerve. So I stayed quiet in my agony, growing more and more depressed along the way.

I tried to tell myself that maybe it was a good thing that he no longer wanted me because it gave me more time to study and keep my mind on-track. But it was useless. I was falling for Brady more each time I saw him, finding more than just his looks attractive. I was drawn to his mannerisms, his quiet-strength, and the respect and admiration he showed toward my father.

All the while, he just continued looking past me, as if I was merely a job he had landed but didn’t really want any more.

I was just the means of keeping food on his table.

* * *

There was a tentative knock on my bedroom door and I didn’t need to be psychic to know it was Brady.

Dad had gone out for the day to a meeting that he insisted would be brief and consequently felt he wouldn’t need my company.

“You can stay here, darling,” he had said. “I know I’ve been asking so much from you lately, but you have your own stuff going on. Stay in and study, and then get some rest. I’ll be back before you know it. I’ll tell Brady to stick around the house just in case you need to go somewhere.”

I knew Brady wasn’t there just to escort me though. He practically camped out at our house every day, especially on days when I was home alone. He had become the eternal look-out, making sure there was no suspicious activity happening anywhere near our home.

“Yeah?” I said glancing to my closed bedroom door.

“Just letting you know I’m ready whenever you are,” his voice sounded through the door.

I sighed, pulling on my sports bra and then reaching for my yoga shorts. Although I should have been studying, I had decided to go out to a yoga class instead, figuring it would refresh my mind so that when I got back home, I could focus on studying better.

“Be there in a second,” I said, my tone lackluster. I already felt annoyed, thinking about the expressionless gaze Brady always kept on his face whenever he was with me.

I supposed yoga would help distract me from him as well.

I stood in the mirror and reached for a comb, detangling my hair before pulling it up into a high ponytail.

Suddenly, it occurred to me that I no longer wanted to go out to a yoga class.

I looked toward my door, practically sensing Brady’s presence on the other side. Visions of that night in Turkey began to replay in my head, making me quiver at the memory of his skin on mine.

My imagination spinning into overdrive, I began envisioning recreating the night, right here and now, in my bed while we had the entire house to ourselves.

Indecent thoughts prancing through my mind, I slowly approached the door. There was a certain level of shame underlying what I was about to do, but I couldn’t stop myself. I needed to know once and for all whether Brady still felt the slightest bit of attraction toward me, or if it had all been a meaningless drunken fling that he wished to forget.