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There was only one camera in the room, and I zoomed it in on the woman’s delighted face as she opened a gold-wrapped chocolate and took a bite. She licked her lips, and I felt my cock stir in my pants.
Then she moved, exploring the other side of the shelf, and I lost sight of her. Mumbling under my breath about the stupidity of only one camera in the room, I set the tablet down and sighed. There was an itch to go to the tasting room myself just to get a look at her in person. I kept stopping myself from doing it since discovering she was here, but I had been compelled to do it. I was already too attracted to her.
* * *
I had to force myself to work. The woman was a distraction I didn’t need, so I answered emails and reviewed reports for an hour. Finally, I took a break, and my hands reached for my tablet again without my conscious decision to do so. I pulled up the live security feed, flicking through all the cameras, trying to find where she was now.
But there was no sight of her.
Concern had me out of my chair in seconds, followed closely by anger because I didn’t want to care about where she was. She was an unwelcome visitor. A squatter. Still, I stormed out of the office and headed for the last place I saw her. I passed Barclay in the hallway.
“Sir, lunch is ready in the dining room.”
I gave a curt nod but didn’t slow down or speak to him. Going to the tasting room, I stepped inside, my steps faltering.
There she was, curled up on her side on the plush carpet with a few empty gold wrappers bunched up in her hand. She looked so peaceful that I automatically lightened my steps and crept forward, not wanting to wake her.
I stopped when I reached her side, just staring down at her lush body. She took deep breaths in and out through her parted lips, sleep erasing all traces of the fear on her face that I’d seen in the camera feeds when she was awake.
She was truly beautiful, despite all the grime and dirt on her body.
I crouched beside her, taking it all in. I wanted to touch her, so I glided my fingertips over her arm, the warmth and soft skin making my breath hitch. She was completely vulnerable to me like this, her short dress barely covering her body.
It would be so easy to touch her everywhere. To take her, block her screams with my hand and force my length into the depth of her tight pussy, and I’d be a fucking liar if I said I didn’t want to. My heart held on to the promise that I would never love again, but loving and fucking were two different things, and my cock leaked as the pads of my fingers lingered on her thigh.
Different aspects of my desire conflicted, making me feel like her hero and her villain. I left her alone, and allowed her to relish in luxury as she ate my food, and slept in a bed I owned. My dead wife would call me empathetic. I call it a pity, a weakness, a fucking flaw coming from a man with a heart charred blacker than coal. But I so desperately wanted to know what it would feel like to sink my cock into her. I knew I was a dirty bastard. A dirty bastard with a hard cock, and in need of a release.
I couldn’t help it. Something about this woman ignited a passion in me I hadn’t felt in a very long time. I ran my hand over the back of hers, and the burn scars along my skin made me pause. Horrible memories threatened to rise to the surface, and I pulled my hand away, forcing them back into the depths of my brain.
The woman yawned and stirred in her sleep, so I hastily backed away into a dark corner as ifIwere the one in the wrong, the one who wasn’t supposed to be here.
If I could help it, I didn’t interact with anyone directly outside of staff and my executive assistants. If meeting with clients was necessary, I did it through video calls with my camera off. They could deal with my voice alone or I wouldn’t meet with them at all.
The fire not only took the love of my life, but it took my confidence. Even if I wanted to get involved with a woman–this woman–it didn’t matter. She’d never be able to look at me with anything other than disgust. I resembled a monster. Something to be ogled and pointed at. My face was mostly untouched, but the rest of my body was a different story, and it was impossible to hide it completely. Burn scars covered my arms, legs, torso, and neck. I was grotesque.
I never cared about vanity, but being the center of attention for the wrong reasons wasn’t in the cards. I didn’t want to deal with people staring at them in fascination or, even worse, pity.
I watched from my spot in the corner as the woman sat up and stretched, waking slowly after her sugar crash. She rose to her feet and, in a gesture that was almost amusing, attempted to smooth down the tattered dress that draped her body. She looked around the room for a moment, as if trying to remember where she was, when her spine stiffened. Somehow, I knew she sensed my presence. She knew she wasn’t alone.Hello there, little dove.
She stood between me and the door, preventing me from getting past her without being seen, so I stayed rooted in my spot, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to fully see me in this dark corner between the two shelves.
Still, her head turned in my direction and her gaze landed on me. My eerie presence forced a yelp from her throat and she stumbled back a couple of steps as fear flashed in her eyes.
But then, something changed in her demeanor, and it was fascinating to watch. When the shock of my presence passed, a fire lit in her eyes. There was strength there—it was apparent in the way she straightened her posture and lifted her chin. She even hid the way her hands shook at her sides before she balled them into fists.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
So assertive for someone that looked damn near broken. Why did that make my cock ache?
“I think I should ask you that. This ismyhome, after all.” My voice was deeper than usual, and I thought I saw the woman’s eyes darken just a little.
“But I… I asked first,” she spat.
I suppressed the urge to chuckle. How could someone who looked like the dirt you would find on the bottom of a shoe also be so damn cute?
“Very well. I’m Sebastian Carrington.” I waited a moment to see if there was a spark of recognition in her gaze, but I didn’t detect any. I felt an odd sense of relief at that.
Either she was a very good actress, or she didn’t know who I was. She wasn’t here to seek a reclusive billionaire.
