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Magnus leans over a large mahogany desk and I can’t help but stare at the wide expanse of his muscled shoulders under his blue dress shirt. His suit jacket is slung over a chair. In my mind's eye, I see myself stepping behind him, rubbing his stiff shoulders, ridding him of any and all stress in only a way I can.
“You needed me—” I begin in a voice that I hope is strong and confident, but he raises a hand.
“My mother hired you to work for me,” he says, not looking up from his work.
“She did,” I answer, moving forward hesitantly. “She said you needed me.”
He looks up and I want to cower away from the intensity of his gaze, but I don’t.
“Did my mother perform a background check? Did you pass?” Magnus stares hard at me.
“I’m Renner's daughter,” I tell him as if that will save me. “I didn’t need a background check.”
Apparently, I’m struggling with my word vomit. I hadn’t meant to sound so entitled.
“You’re a lot older than I thought you were,” Magnus murmurs. His voice is so low that I have to move closer to hear him. “Renner painted you as a young girl— when he did speak of you, I mean.”
My cheeks burn at his words. All I can do is just shake my head at him.
“He would think of me that way,” I mutter, letting out a long breath to quell my nervousness.
“You don’t see him very much,” Magnus remarks, staring at me without blinking. “Do you?”
The burn of his dark gaze on me is enough to make my toes curl.
“I lived with my mom, so no,” I say, clearing my throat.
“I remember her,” Magnus says, adjusting his tie. “She was a beautiful woman.
Suddenly, I feel embarrassed for being attracted to him. Of course, he would want an older woman. I must look like a kid to him, stumbling over my words.
I say, in a quiet voice, “I didn’t know you ever met her. I actually didn’t know about you for a while.”
“Well, that makes two of us,” Magnus tells me with his mouth quirked into a half-smile.
“Was there anything else that you needed from me?” I ask him, standing up straight, trying to project the confidence I don’t feel.
Magnus looks as if he’s weighing me in his mind, checking me over for any flaws.
“That ring on your finger,” he says, raising an eyebrow as he stares at me with deep brown eyes. The flames in the fireplace make his dark eyes shine. “You’re married, then?”
I glance down at my hand and then back up at him, confused. How had he even seen the little opal on the slim, silver band?
“It-It was my grandmother’s,” I stutter for a second, absentmindedly rubbing a finger over the ring. “She left it to me when she passed. She told me it had magical powers. She said it was meant for love.”
My cheeks burn. Why did I say that? I want him to see me as an adult, a woman, not some kid who still believes in magic and destiny, but the thing is I do.
Magnus smiles slyly though, running a hand through his graying black hair. “Well, maybe she was right.”
“Maybe she was.” I walk forward and stand in front of the fireplace, leaning a hand there.
I can feel Magnus watching me from behind his desk, but I just stare into the flames. I don’t want him to see the thoughts inside my head, the ones that revolve around him and only him. I’m scared that he might think of me as a little girl who has a crush on an older man, and not the woman I know myself to be.
There’s just no way that what I’m feeling for Magnus is anything as careless as a crush. It feels like so much more, like my heart will explode with an emotion I’ve never felt before.
“It gets cold in the manor at night,” Magnus tells me. “The maid should keep the fire high.”
“The maid that comes into my room is Alice, I think,” I say. My hands are shaking and I squeeze my fingers on the polished wood of the banister. “She does a good job.”
Magnus lets out a breath and I feel it ghost over my neck. I can’t help but shiver, realizing he’s standing right behind me. I didn’t even hear him move. For such a tall built man he moves silently on his feet, like a panther stalking its prey.
“I’m sure she does, but if she doesn’t, let me know. I’m just down the hall,” he says.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I reply, swallowing hard.
I’ve never felt a pull so strong as the one that’s tugging me toward Magnus.
For a moment, I allow myself to imagine Magnus coming into my room late into the night as the moon pours a halo of pale light onto my bed. I think of my fire burning low and Magnus closing the door behind him, just the two of us, as he brings a thick fur throw to my bed. In the end, it’s his body that keeps me warm, though, and he slides in behind me. In my mind, he kisses my—
