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Responding to his kindness, she said, “Please call me Scarlett.” He inclined his head as she returned her gaze to the man beside her. “Who are you?” Her voice lost any shred of warmth.
“My name is Carter. Carter Braxton.” He didn’t bother to look at her, and the conversation faltered.
She knew she had heard that name before, but she couldn’t place it. And with his coldness towards her, she didn’t press him for more information. That would come later she guessed.
Scarlett had been up late studying the night before, and she yawned. They had a two-hour trip ahead of them and she dozed off despite her attempts not to. She was barely aware of her head falling against Carter’s shoulder, and she didn’t see the slight softening of his eye. It wasn’t until she awoke within a few miles of their destination that she realized what had happened, and only because Carter had not moved her head from his shoulder.
Embarrassed, she sat up quickly to peer out the window, knowing she wouldn’t see anything except the lights of San Francisco. When the driver turned off the road they were traveling, it was onto a steep driveway with a gated entrance. After a few seconds, the gate opened smoothly and Scarlett couldn’t help looking back as it closed, feeling as if she’d just been locked in forever.
The house was several miles up the drive, and Scarlett gasped when it finally came into sight. Perched atop a cliff, the mansion was four stories or more. It was white and modern, unlike Terini Manor, and she liked it immediately. The chauffeur dropped them at the front, and Darren opened the door for them.
She followed Carter and Darren up the steps in front of the house, counting them as she went—twenty-four white marble stairs just to get to the front door. The door was opened for them by a stiff man in a black suit, who inclined his head. “Mr. Braxton.”
“Edward, this is Ms. Terini. She will be staying with us for a while. Will you please have a room prepared for her?” Carter handed the butler his coat and briefcase. As he took off his jacket Scarlett noticed just how muscular his was. Why the hell was he so good looking? He was a kidnapper. She tried to push the thought from her mind.
“Which room, sir?”
Carter cocked his head, clearly considering where to put her. Scarlett eyed him carefully before he responded. “The second room from the head of the stairs.” Edward inclined his head once more and disappeared from sight, taking Scarlett’s bag with him.
“Are you hungry or thirsty?” Carter inquired, turning back towards her.
She swallowed, briefly considering a hunger strike, but knowing she’d never stick to it. Food was her weakness, her safety net in times of trouble. With Rocco Terini as her father she spent many nights with her two favorite men, Ben and Jerry. “Yes.”
“What would you like? Zira can make just about anything you can ask for.”
“A turkey and bacon croissant with avocado, and an orange juice.” She knew it was oddly specific, but it was a test. To see how well he really would take care of her.
“That sounds good. Darren?”
“I’ll see to it.” He left Carter and Scarlett alone. She watched him closely, this was her new… roommate? That didn’t seem appropriate. She felt like owner was more of her choice of word. Her ridiculously attractive owner.
Quickly he began to move away from her. Scarlett followed Carter into a sumptuous breakfast room decorated in neutral colors, with thick carpeting, and a sturdy rectangular table. The chairs were captain-style, and upholstered in the same beige color as the cloth wall hangings. “I think we’ll eat in here.”
“What does Darren do for you?” Scarlett asked.
“He’s my personal assistant and bodyguard.” Carter sat down with a small sigh.
Scarlett quirked her brow. “Do you make a habit of pissing off people enough to want to kill you?”
“It’s
happened a few times,” Carter admitted with a small grin. “And believe it or not, I haven’t always provoked the person. Darren is just a precaution.”
The food was brought in by Darren, and he joined them at the table. Scarlett was a little surprised by Carter’s lack of formality with Darren, as her father maintained a stiff distance between himself and his staff at all times. She ate the sandwich amid almost continuous yawning.
“Darren, will you show Scarlett her room? She looks exhausted.”
“I’m not tired,” she countered, continuing to eat.
“Scarlett, go to bed.” He paused and she rolled her eyes defiantly. “You won’t miss anything down here and I promise you can continue your inquisition tomorrow. Fair?”
“Fine,” she huffed pushing herself back from the table. She didn’t like being told what to do, but now that she was his prisoner, she would have to pick her battles carefully.
Darren led Scarlett from the room. They walked up a spiral staircase covered in pristine white carpet. He took her down the hall, stopping before a pair of French doors to swing them open. “This will be your room.”
Scarlett surveyed the room, liking the warmth of the sand and peach coloring. It was no more or less impressive than her room at home, so she didn’t express any enthusiasm. “Thank you, Darren, and good night.”
“If you need anything, four on the phone will connect you to me,” said Darren before leaving.
