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“They need to know that we’re together. Their job protecting us depends on it.” His tone brooked no argument.
He knew me so well, better that anyone had ever known me, and in such a short time. Unsettling, to say the least. The three knights watched me expectantly. For my agreement, I suppose. I was caught, trapped in a prison of my own making, and there was no escape. I could only hope that their professionalism extended to keeping secret affairs secret.
“Miss Sava, I assure you that you have nothing to worry about,” Gideon Hirsch coolly stated. He seemed to be the brains of the outfit. “We will do our best not to get in the way but I advise you to check in with us whenever you leave the premises––as a precaution.” An intriguing accent. His R’s were soft, not quite rolled as with a French accent.
A dull ache was developing between my eyes. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I said, “I’m sure Mr. Horn has confided in you that…umm, that…our relationship is not public knowledge…and I would like to keep it that way. How is this going to work? I don’t see why I need protecting. They aren’t after me.”
Gideon Hirsch’s eyes were hooded when he spoke again. “The quickest way to hurt someone is to target the people they care about.” I stiffened and kept my gaze pinned on Mr. Hirsch, too proud to measure Sebastian’s reaction. I couldn’t have borne it had I found indifference. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize Mr. Horn’s safety?”
“Of course not,” I said, chastened.
I left shortly afterwards, after what felt like a scolding by Mr. Hirsch. As I paused outside the door, I heard words that weakened my knees.
“What do you know about her? I’m running a full check.”
“No, you won’t, Gideon. I know all I need to know.”
“For fuck’s sake, Sebastian. Let me do my job.”
“I mean it––she’s off limits.”
My heart was pounding as I walked back to the kitchen. I didn’t doubt that with Gideon Hirsch’s resources, he could uncover in an hour everything I was so desperately trying to hide. All the years of sacrifice…I had forsaken friendships, a social life, anything that would reveal my identity. I had been a ghost these past six years and now it was all in jeopardy because of one misstep. Never once did it occur to me that desire would be the instrument of my undoing.
* * *
A day later, Sebastian found me in the library, one foot perched on a stepping stool, the other wedged on the bookcase I was dusting. I didn’t see him the night prior. A message from him popped up on the computer screen around midnight. I lied about having a migraine and begged him not to come to my room. I knew it took a lot for him to obey my wish, and yet he had. I was fighting an uphill battle not to fall into a comfortable routine spending every night making love until I barely had the energy to crawl back to my room. It was dangerously easy for us to be together.
“I’m staying at the apartment tonight. I have a late business dinner, but I’m taking you to Geneva tomorrow afternoon. We’ll stay there overnight.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Be ready.”
“I can’t get the time off!” I replied in a shouty whisper.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, buried his face among the folds of my skirt, and bit my rear end.
“Ouch!”
“That’s what you get for arguing.” His devilish fingers coasted down my waist and up my skirt. My legs trembled.
“I will fall and split my skull if you don’t stop that immediately!”
He caressed the inside of my thighs, cupped my sex, acute sensation lingering everywhere his skilled fingers had been. My hands curled into tight fists in an attempt to hold onto the feeling as long as possible. He rubbed me in an achingly lazy rhythm with the nail of his thumb running along the seam of my sex, over the pantyhose. When my legs failed, he placed me on solid ground and nudged my body forward. My sweaty palms landed on a wall of first editions and my head dropped, my heavy breathing matching his. Trapped between his tall, muscular body and the bookcase, I felt the heat emanating from him all around me. The weight of him, from the top of my spine to my heels, was deliriously arousing.
The sensation of being completely overpowered, dominated, was so exhilarating that it shocked me. Where had this part of me been hiding the last ten years? Never once, in all my time with Aleksander, did I ever feel this overwhelming desire to be taken. I always thought my taste conventional when it came to sex, almost staid, and this new discovery shamed me. There had to be some perfectly good Freudian explanation for this…or maybe it was Jungian. Regardless, this was not who I thought I was.
