Beauty in the Broken
“We need to lay down the rules.”
Silence.
“Russell, the bodyguard you met downstairs, is at your disposal. You won’t leave the grounds without him.” As much for her protection as to ensure she doesn’t try to run away. “My housekeeper will show you around. If you need anything while I’m gone, Zane will take care of it.”
“You’re leaving?” she asks with a tinge of hope she hides too late.
“Not by choice. I have to take care of urgent business, but Zane will play host until I’m back.”
“Zane?”
“Yes, my housekeeper is a man. Is that a problem?”
Something akin to panic sparks in her eyes. “You’re leaving me alone with him?”
“You have nothing to fear. He’s a good friend, and he also happens to be gay.” Which is the only reason I trust him with her. I take the new phone from my pocket and hand it to her. “This is yours. My number is programmed.”
She hesitates but takes the phone after a moment.
“Play by the rules, and it’ll be smooth sailing.” More or less. “Any questions?”
She licks her lips. “No.”
“I’ll be home tomorrow night. I suggest you get some rest. It’s been a taxing day.”
I grip her slender fingers and press them to my lips. The touch is to remind both of us to who she belongs. Like her, I have patience. It’s only a matter of time. I would’ve preferred to not leave straight away, but the business I’m about to conduct can’t wait. Maybe this trip is the best thing that could’ve happened. I haven’t had sex in six years. I shouldn’t trust myself around her, especially not when my lust is tainted with anger. With a squeeze, I drop her hand and take my leave.
At the door, I turn. “One more thing. Your father isn’t welcome in my house. He won’t visit whether I’m here or away, and neither will you visit him. Are we clear?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I trail my gaze over her one last time, imprinting the dishonor she bestowed on me to memory before calling my driver and ordering Zane to the study.
Lina
Has Damian really gone, letting me off the hook? With the new phone clutched in one hand, I grip the edge of the desk behind me with the other, unable to believe my luck. He hasn’t taken me like I thought he would. He hasn’t punished me, although I’m sure it’ll come. For now, I’m all right, and I’ve become good at living in the moment. Letting my shoulders drop under the strain of the day, I alternate between dragging in breaths and puffing them out. My act slips and my bravado falls away, leaving my knees weak in the aftermath of all that could’ve been. I’m still gasping like a fish on shore when the door opens, and a man enters.
I give a start but am incapable of adopting my earlier proud posture. I simply don’t have enough strength left.
The glint is his eyes is sardonic. “Did I give you a fright?”
Dressed in a black T-shirt, dark jeans, and white sneakers, he’s not the stereotyped butler in a stiff waistcoat and bowtie I expected. He’s young—early twenties with a bronze complexion and brown hair. He’s not attractive by general standards, but he has an open face, the kind that would elicit trust if he’s not scowling, like now.
Crossing the floor, he does a visual inventory. His perceptive gaze misses little.
“It was a beautiful ceremony.” The compliment sounds sarcastic. “I brought some of the flowers from the church home to put in the entrance.”
“You were there?” I don’t remember his face from the crowd, not that I’d been taking in much of what was going on around me.
“For the whole fiasco.” He looks me up and down. Satisfaction laces his tone when he says, “Not exactly a wedding dress.” He’s happy I look nothing like a bride. “I can’t imagine Dami liking it. He hates black.”
“For a man who hates black, he sure owns enough black suits.” Given, I’ve only seen him twice, not counting our first meeting, but he chose black for both occasions. Or maybe it was just for me.
“I meant on a woman.” He smirks. “Although, I can’t say I’m surprised that black’s your choice of wedding gown color after unpacking your bags.”
If I don’t own any other color than black, it’s none of his business. “I didn’t expect you to unpack my bags but thank you.”
He shrugs like it’s nothing, but the tense set of his shoulders gives away his resentment. “It comes with the job.” Seeming to consider me for a moment, he continues, “I’ll be honest with you, no one here is pleased about the turn of events, so do yourself a favor and do as I tell you. Otherwise, try to stay out of my way.”
I smile. “Glad we’re on the same page.”