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“Sir.” One of them sighs after realizing who it is. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“Well, this is my home, is it not?”
“Yes,” the other one, blonde, thin lips, says with a shrug. “But we were told to—“
“Guard me and Espie’s rooms?” I arch a brow and slowly step forward— the way I’ve seen my father intimidate people. They both nod vigorously, and I press my lips together.
“Just so we’re clear, Espie and I are engaged. We don’t need extra security detail. If anyone tells you otherwise, you will refer them to me. You got any problems with that?”
“No sir.” They nod in unison, and I nod back.
“Goodnight.” I say more like a warning, and they turn around, heading back down the stairs, whispering about something, but I can’t hear and don’t care.
I run up the stairs, press the button for the elevator, feeling pretty proud of myself for figuring this all out, though I know that talking to three of the guys won’t change the orders, the rest of our boys got from God knows where. So, I should still make sure Espie and I are locked away with no interference from any other misinformed men.
The elevator is a good meeting spot. It’s huge, first of all. And I think it can fit at least twenty people comfortably. It was a special request of my father when we installed them. It’s necessary in our line of work to be able to move large quantities of bodies— dead or alive— in a short amount of time. Thus, the extra large elevator was born.
The doors part and I step inside, laying out the comforter and pillows and lining the outskirts of the elevator with fairy lights. Just as I turn to lock the elevator in place— another wonderful and necessary feature, the doors part open again and Espie is standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a red lingerie dress. And when I say nothing else— I mean… nothing else.
My jaw drops and I have to stop it from falling much further, or I know I’ll look ridiculous. I grab her hand and pull her into me, kissing down her neck and shutting the doors behind us. Locking them and the elevator in place. The dim lighting and mostly the fairy lights on the floor keep us from stumbling around.
When I make it to the library, I shut the doors behind me, striding to the center of the room where there is a lounge area. I pull the longest couch between the two smaller seats on either side of the fireplace, making an area on the floor where I lay the blankets down, placing the Champagne and two flute glasses on either side of it.
I don't know how much time I have, but I hastily grab more pillows because the floor still seems a bit empty and I place them around nicely before adding some more wood to the dimming fire, and pushing it around with the poker stick. The large wood doors knock together as one of them parts, and I turn my head calmly, though I hope it is who I summoned.
“Hi.” Espie pokes her head around the open crack in the door and my heart rate increases drastically.
“Hello.” I grin. “Come in.” She steps inside, a bright red frilly nightgown, that I'm sure is lingerie, is draped over her petite frame. It looks almost see-through, but I pretend not to notice just to keep her from getting angry at me and leaving.Seduce her– that’s all I have to do. And seduction is always a bit of a back and forth game like this.
“What’s all this?” she asks after closing the door and nearing me. Her eyes focus on the nest of blankets and pillows behind me and I rest the poker stick back in its place before crossing the floor to her side.
“It’s to celebrate our engagement, of course.” Her shoulders slump a little as she slowly nods, eyes trailing over towards the fireplace.
“I see.” She presses a finger to her bottom lip and I take her hand, pulling it from her face and down towards the champagne on the floor.
“Would you like some?” I hand her a glass as I pop it open and the cork flies somewhere deep into the library. She watches it like she can see where it went, though there’s no way she could.
“Sure.” she says, barely above a whisper and I pour her some, then me. She’s distant, and I can't figure out why. We clink glasses and I attempt to catch her drifting gaze as Icheers to us.
“Are you upset with me?” I take a sip of my champagne, making every effort not to sound like I'm desperately searching for a response I want or can work with– I definitely am, though.
“No.” She shakes her head. “Not right now, anyway.” Her smile is soft, but her wandering glances are far from me. I’m a bit fed up with it at this point, so I take her chin in between my fingers and force her eyes to mine. They’re greener than normal, fervent with something I cannot guess if I tried.
“Then what’s wrong?” I whisper and her eyes get glassy.
“Why did you propose to me?” She whispers back and I let go of her chin because I have her attention now; I’m sitting on an answer she needs.
“I told you why…”
“I want to hear it again.”
I purse my lips, narrowing my eyes at her. “Because you deserve a proposal. Just because we are contractually bound, doesn't mean I don’t…” I bite my tongue until it hurts and her head flicks so fast to me I think I hear her neck crack.
“Don’t what?”
I clear my throat, fixing the almost slip-up that would have cost me more than proposing, and more than seducing her combined. “... It doesn’t mean I don't choose you. If I could, I would have chosen you.” I lean in, lips closer to hers as I betray the truth of why we’re here, why I'm seducing her, and whisper, “I do. I choose you, Espie.”
“You smell remarkable.” I whisper in her ear, pulling her hips into mine. She grabs my hand and guides it to her breast, and I oblige, immediately cupping in firmly and bringing my lips to hers.
