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Oscar drops me out front. I quickly grab my bits from the boot and go back to the window.
“I’ll see you in a bit.”
“I’ll be an hour, two at the most,” he assures me.
Now that Oscar is heading back to his mother’s, I decide to grab a shower and freshen up. I feel worn out after today, plus I can make some food to give me a boost. I drop all my bags in the hall with a clatter and head up the stairs with intent, mentally planning my outfit as I go. I push into my bedroom and stop dead. Callan is sitting at the bottom of my bed. His legs are placed firmly apart, his suit trousers pulling under the tension being placed on them. He shifts, bringing his hand round where I see my silk nightgown scrunched up in his grasp.Hiseyes shift from me to the cream silk, and he lifts it, brings it to his face and inhales. His eyes roll shut, and I’m witnessing this big, commanding man sniffing my nightwear. If any other man did that, I would call them out for being a sex pest, but with him, Callan, I can only watch and absorb the same sort of euphoria he seems to be experiencing.
He looks to me, then the spot between his thighs. I know what he wants. He need not ask. His unspoken question is as loud as his tattoos. I oblige with little thought, gravity pulling me to him. I walk with quiet purpose until I’m at his feet, then I'm on my knees, face twisted to hold that cool gaze.
We don't speak. Only this time, Callan leans forwards, resting himself on his knees, bringing himself closer to me. His breath floats out over my face, and my lashes flutter as a result. Time slows and slips away all at once. I’m back in that space again. The world ceases to exist, and for a fraction of time, I’m free from a world of hurt. Free from previous pain. Free from the restraints of life. I no longer can think, only feel, and it’s all because this man cannot take his eyes from me. He views me as a rare heirloom. Precious. To be protected. Safe.
My breath stutters out, and Callan shifts on the edge of my bed.
“You look tired,” he says gently, eyes sweeping over my face.
“I've had a long day.” He nods in understanding and stands swiftly, side-stepping me and heading into my en-suite. I twist, watching him over my shoulder. The last thing I expect is for him to run me a bath. I rise slowly and walk through to watch him. “Is that so you can drown me?" I lean into the doorframe, taking an odd amount of satisfaction at seeing his big, burly body doing such a domestic task.
His laugh is light but genuine.
“No, I have work to do. I'll see you soon,” he says, walking past me. I frown at him, not able to fathom his plans for me. How much longer does he intend for this staring game to go on for?
“So you can stare at me again?” I muse, watching his wide frame exit the walk-in to my room.
“Yes. Get some rest.” He doesn't turn back, just leaves, so I’m left alone in my big townhouse.
I sink into the bubbly water and rest my head back. Callan. Callan. Callan. I say the name over and over in my mind, trying it out. It’s such an unusual name. A strong name. I like it. My fascination with him should concern me, but for now, I just float around with it. It’s an intoxicating change from constantly being on edge. I know he is someone to be feared, yet I have found myself feeling more relaxed in his company than I have ever before.The way he looked at me.I huff out a shocked sigh, and the hairs over my skin prickle until they are standing up. Never have I been in someone’s company where their sole purpose was to just look at me. Most people want something from me, some insight or some recognition, and I know that Callan wants something, but for now, this heightened intensity I’m enduring, all because of his black-as-night stare, is the calmest I’ve felt in a long while. It’s refreshing.
Chapter Eight
Oscar and I move around the bar. He is more than tipsy, and we have danced our way through song after song. I think we both needed this night out, me more so than I realised. Masego comes on, and Oscar grabs himself a shot and me a soft drink. I suggest we move to the dance floor, where we can move a bit better.
He sings to me, rocking his way along the floor before he necks his shot. He grabs my hand and spins me out. We’re both laughing when he tugs me to him and says into my ear, “Oh, brunette in the gold dress.” I’m flung out before I can answer. I see her, though. I know it won’t be long before I’m on my way home, and Oscar is no doubt trying to get her out of her knickers.
Twenty minutes later, and he is over at the bar kissing the brunette. I nip to the ladies and freshen up, ordering an Uber whilst I’m at it.
“Holy shit, you’re Zara Reid!” I twist, finding a room full of women now staring at me. The one girl who noticed me knocks into the sink and blinks at me. “Zara Reid. Hi!” She stumbles and falls into me.
“Hi, having a good night?” I ask, smiling at her drunkenness.
“I am so sorry.” She is slurring, squinting, and I find it oddly endearing.
“No need to apologise.”
“Yes, best night. I can’t believe you’re in here.” She spins around. “See, I told you, Nina, this is the place to be.” Nina rushes over, apologetic.
“I’m sorry, she’s so drunk.”
“I am noooot!” The girl stumbles back into me, and I hold her up, her head on my shoulder. She looks back at me. “Selfie pleeeease?”
I grin and say, “Sure.” I turn her and wipe under her eyes and re-fluff her hair. She is glassy-eyed, but at least she doesn't look bedraggled. She smiles at me. I know she will be pissed off if she looks a mess in the photo. Her friend looks at me, unsure.
“Honestly, it’s fine,” I say. Sheholds the camera up, and I point at it, encouraging her friend to look there with me, and we both smile as a few snaps are taken.
“Thank you so much,” the girl shouts happily. I see a few other girls looking at me expectantly and, one by one, I take a multitude of selfies with them all under the agreement that my location isn’t shared. It’s only when I get a notification off my Uber that I’m able to pull away.
I find my ride quickly and settle in. I didn't see Oscar on my way back through the club, and I suspect he is already on his way to the brunette’s. No doubt I will be asked to go and save him in the morning. I send him a quick message to let him know I’m heading home and to check in with me as soon as he can. The traffic is fairly heavy, and due to road closures, we are diverted through several side streets. I check my phone to see if Oscar has come back when the car comes to a sudden halt. I jolt forwards, grabbing the belt when it pinches my neck.
“Bloody hell!” I cough, looking up out the front window. Callan is standing in the middle of the road, with his big car haphazardly blocking the street.You have got to be kidding me!“Here is fine,” I say when the driver begins to reverse. I don’t allow him time to question me.
