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Which only made it more arousing.
His back straightens as his finger slides away from my chin, the rough surface surprising me from a man in a suit costing well into the four-figure range.
“Eight o’clock tomorrow morning. My office. Don’t be late.”
I nod again, not trusting my voice one bit.
“I’m serious. Don’t test me on this. It’s for your own good.”
I pivot on my heel, figuring it’s best to get out while I’m ahead, and apparently now gainfully employed.
I clear the reception area and luckily find an elevator ready and waiting, despite being on the top floor.
As soon as I step inside and the door closes I let out an exhale that I didn’t know I was holding, and a majority of the tightness in my chest fades with it.
There are roller coaster rides longer than the amount of time I was in that man’s office, but I can guarantee none take your breath away like that adventure just did.
My heart is racing, and I remember the old saying that rumors run marathons in small communities, the high brow art world being no exception.
Now I was one step closer to finding out if the rumor that had been circulating had any weight to it, because word on the street was that if anyone knew anything about my dad’s death it was Mr. Steele, or sir, as he wished to be called.
And I had the unsettling feeling that sir would be only one of the titles this man would demand I call him.
I wasn’t sure what else, but I knew there would be more. The only question was, would I accept?
2
Silas
I pace the length of my office, my hands behind my back. When I reach the row of expensive whiskey bottles I brush my fingers across their tops.
I only have that bar here for guests, never to partake myself.
Until today.
The moment I saw her face in the reception area on my CCTV there was a certain recognition, a moment where
I just knew this girl was so much more than just a job applicant.
She’s mine.
It’s a thought that’s never crossed my mind in all my thirty-nine years. I’m not even one for dating, at all. I have no time and no interest, as witnessed by the unopened invite to tonight’s black tie affair to be hosted in some swanky rooftop lounge in Brickell, the wealthiest district of Miami.
There’s a possessiveness over this girl that’s growing inside of me. It’s new, unlike any pull to another human being I’ve ever felt. Although the thought of having children has never once crossed my mind, suddenly there’s something paternal going on inside me. There’s a growing feeling that she belongs to me, and I want everything good and wonderful in the world for her. And I want to be the one who drops it at her feet, right in front of the glass slipper that I already know fits her and only her.
I barely know her, yet I’d fight to the death to protect this girl. My girl.
When it comes to her background I’m already behind, and I want to learn everything there is to know about her as quickly as possible. Not just the good, but also the bad. It’s not that I want to judge her or don’t trust her, it’s that I want to know the bad things in her life so I can search them out and destroy them.
My phone lights up with the caller ID from the temp agency, and I lunge for the receiver, wanting to make sure I claim her before any other company where she may have interviewed has the opportunity.
“How was your interview with Ms. Jones, Mr. Steele?” the overly friendly voice requires.
“Did you really think you’d send me an angel and I wouldn’t want to keep her?”
“Um…so that’s a yes?”
I can practically hear the voice on the other end counting their commission check.
