SCARLET
I stretched my arms above my head and rolled over, coming face-to-face with blond hair and green eyes.
“Good morning!”
I rolled my eyes and groaned. “You’re far too chipper. Also, why the fuck are you in my bed?” I ran my hands down over my face.
“Oh, is Sebastian the only one allowed to grace your bed?” I turned my face towards him, trying to keep my cheeks from burning, but his smile told me he saw it anyway. Tristan let out a deep chuckle and rolled off the bed. “Get dressed.” He had on a white T-shirt and tight black jeans that hung low on his hips.
“Casual today?” I asked as I rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth.
“It’s just you and me for the rest of the morning,” he called from the bedroom. “I had to send the boys out on some errands in the city. Figured I’d give you a tour around the house and grounds.”
I finished and came out tearing a brush through my hair. “You’re going to show your prisoner around her prison?” I searched through the drawers and pulled out a bra, a pair of panties, and a pair of black ripped jeans.
“You’re such a pessimist.”
I scoffed and turned around to put my bottoms on. He got a clear view of my ass as I pulled the lacy thong up into place with a soft snap. But I wasn’t about to go change in the bathroom when he was the one in my room. The jeans were my favorite pair and fit over me like a second skin. I walked over to the closet, keeping my back to him, and tossed the shirt on the floor while I hooked the bra.
“Is it cold outside?”
He laughed under his breath and picked the shirt up off the floor and laid it on the bed. “Yeah, it’s definitely winter in England, Scarlet. Wear a sweater.”
I threw on a baggy black sweater and went back to the bathroom to french braid my hair on either side and throw on some makeup. I knew I wasn’t going to be seeing anyone except them and maybe the staff, but I was in the habit of hiding my scar as best as I could. It wasn’t that I was vain, I just didn’t want to be reminded of my past every time I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
When I was done, I walked back out into the bedroom, and he had lain back down on the bed, his feet dangling off at the knees.
“Can we get some breakfast first? And please tell me you guys keep coffee in this place?”
He sat up on his elbows and smirked. Fuck, I wanted to kiss that stupid look off his face.
Smack. I wanted to smack that stupid look off his face.
“Of course we do.” He stood up to his full height and slung his arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go get our girl some coffee, shall we?”
The walk to the kitchen was a long one. Tristan said the original kitchen in the house was converted into a large commercial-type kitchen for parties and, shockingly, weddings that they rented the place out for in the spring and summer. There was a smaller, more modern one a little bit further down the hall where everyday food was kept. It had large windows against one wall and french doors in the middle that led out onto a sprawling patio overlooking the back gardens.
Tristan motioned for me to sit down at the bar and made his way over to a very fancy-looking coffee maker that I would have had no idea how to work. I was sure we had one similar at my old house, but I had grown up being waited on hand and foot and never needed to work in the kitchen. Yes, that makes me sound spoiled, but truth is, I was. And when you grow up like that, you don’t really see anything wrong with it. Then, when I left and had to make it on my own, I burnt everything I tried to cook for months before I finally got the hang of it.
“Cream and sugar or black?” he asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Black, exactly like my tainted soul, please.”
“Pancakes alright with you?”
I leaned forward on the counter and gave him a look. “You can cook?”
He rolled his eyes at me and started digging through the refrigerator. I watched the muscles in his back work as he lifted all the ingredients out and sat them on the counter.
“We didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in our mouths like you did, Scarlet. We had to work to get to where we are.”
“Work. Interesting word for blackmail and brute force.”
“Oh, because your family did everything by the book?” I shrugged. The smell of coffee filled the air, and I turned my attention back out of the windows while he got to work. After the pancakes were cooking, he sat a cup of coffee in front of me and sipped on his own. He had put a ton of sugar and cream in his own which I scrunched my nose at.
“You completely cover up the taste of the coffee that way, you know.”
He ignored me. “So,” he said with a pause. I looked up at him. “What’s the story with the badass scar?”
I sighed and sat my coffee down. I didn’t like talking about what happened, but part of me wondered if I told them if it would garner me any sympathy. If they knew what I had gone through at the hands of my family, would they let me go? Chances were slim, and I didn’t really want to get into it with a complete stranger. At least not the part about the attempted rape. That part would stay with me, for now.
“Someone tried to kill me.”