by Emma Slate
I nodded at his explanation. “It makes sense, it’s just—well, there’s nothing personal here, nothing to make it seem like you.”
“Seem like me,” he repeated. “And who do you think I am?”
“I don’t know.” I frowned. “I know you like functionality over flash. That makes sense. But I guess—where are all your personal touches?”
“Such as?”
“Pictures? Artwork…anything…”
“Pictures. Do you mean photographs of me through the years?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
It took me a moment to realize I’d made an insensitive mistake. He didn’t have photos that marked the passage of time.
“You don’t have any of those, do you?” I asked quietly.
“No, I don’t.”
I nodded, my heart fracturing just a tiny bit. I wanted to offer him some measure of understanding, and before I could think about why I wanted to share another insight from my past, I dove in. “We moved around a lot when I was a kid. There was never any point in putting up photos. We’d just have to take them down again.”
“They were more trouble than they were worth?”
“Yes.” I didn’t tell him that there hadn’t been any photo albums either. No moments captured on film of my first few years of life, and even less later on as I developed into what I would look like as an adult.
There hadn’t been anything personal in my childhood because my mother had felt the need to shield me from people who would do terrible things if they found me. People my mother had fled for good reason.
“Don’t pity me,” he snapped.
I looked at him in confusion. “I wasn’t pitying you. I was pitying myself.”
The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I clamped my jaw shut, wishing I hadn’t let emotions get the better of me.
I thought for sure he’d pounce on my vulnerability. Instead, he gently touched my hand and said, “I love standing in the middle of this walkway when there’s an ocean storm.”
I let out a breath of relief. “Where does it lead?”
“You’ll see.”
The enclosed glass bridge connected Hadrian’s main house to an Olympic-sized pool. The walls looked like chiseled stone, and I knew we were inside another mountain. Dim lighting fixtures cast shadows on the gray stone walls.
“I feel like Gollum,” I said with a laugh. “Traveling deep within a mountain full of tunnels.”
“Fancy a swim?” he asked, letting go of my hand and going for the buttons on his shirt.
“What about showing me the rest of the house?” I asked.
“I’ll show you later. Right now, I want you naked again.” He bared his skin and then reached out to tug the collar of the sweater I wore.
“Aren’t you tired?” I asked in enjoyment.
“No. Now, stop stalling and get naked.”
While I was still removing my clothes, Hadrian took the pool stairs until he was standing waist deep.
I stuck a toe in and shivered from the warmth. “It’s heated,” I said with a smile.
“It’s also saltwater.”
I waded into the water, and Hadrian immediately placed his hands on my hips to drag me closer. I wrapped my legs around his body, his hands moving underneath my bum to hold me up.
My fingers dragged up and down his pectorals and then his abs, lingering on the scar on his body. He was such an enigma.
“Do you really pity yourself?” he queried quietly, pressing his lips against the apple of my cheek.
I sucked in a breath, wishing I’d never let my weakness show. “I don’t know if pity is the right word,” I said slowly. “It’s just, well, it would’ve been nice to live in the same place long enough to have photos on the walls.”
His fingers drew up and down my arms. “Why did you go to work at The Rex? It can’t just be because you were poor.”
“That was blunt,” I said dryly.
“Was it?”
“There are less complicated ways to earn a living, Hadrian.”
“So I’m right. It wasn’t about the money then,” he stated.
“It wasn’t about the money,” I agreed.
“You needed a new identity, didn’t you?”
I froze. “No. I wanted something new. Something different.”
We stared into each other’s eyes, and I knew he could see right through me.
“Money doesn’t motivate you,” he said. “Aye. I knew that already. I knew it the night I met you.”
I hesitated. “It motivates you though, doesn’t it?”
“I grew up with nothing,” he said, his tone hard. “I knew that money would make everything easier. But this isn’t about me. It’s about you.”
“Has it filled the void?” I deflected.
“Void?”
I inhaled a shaky breath. “The void that comes with being an orphan…”
Hadrian released me and I almost went under, splashing in an attempt to catch my balance. While I got my bearings, Hadrian was wading toward the pool steps to leave.
“I have some work I have to do,” he stated as he climbed out of the pool and walked to a shelf with folded white towels. He wrapped one around his waist, hiding his stunning body from me. “Feel free to use the home gym or the theater room. If you get hungry, make yourself something to eat.”
I stood in the water a moment contemplating what to say, but he left before I could ask him when I’d see him again. I blinked in confusion and spread out onto my back to float while thoughts swirled in my head.
When he’d gone, he’d taken his dynamic, robust energy with him. His mercurial mood left me bereft. I swam to the edge of the pool and hoisted myself up over the ledge and trod naked to the shelf. I grabbed a towel and quickly covered myself.
Hadrian hadn’t bothered taking his clothes, instead leaving them in a makeshift pile. I scooped them up, along with mine, and carted them out of the pool area. I walked through the covered glass walkway, shocked to find that the sky had darkened and droplets of water were already beating against the glass.
A flash of lightning in the distance over the ocean made me stop and stare for a moment. I’d never seen an ocean storm because I had never been to the ocean. Mama had moved us through small towns in the middle of the country. I’d been to lakes and rivers but never the ocean.
What other firsts would I experience with Hadrian?
I made my way through the quiet house. I had no idea where Hadrian had gone and peeked into his bedroom, but he wasn’t there. I threw our clothes into a hamper in the closet and then went to shower. I didn’t take long and when I got out, part of me hoped he would be sitting on the bed and we could make amends.
I’d asked him a pointed question, sure, but it wasn’t fair for him to leave me. Whenever he wanted to know about me, he would battle his way into my brain with relentless queries. Why couldn’t I do that to him?
Hypocrite.
Righteous anger coursed through my veins. It was a good thing that Hadrian had disappeared. He wasn’t going to like what I had to say when he saw me again.
Chapter Twenty
I woke up alone. My hand went to Hadrian’s side of the bed, but the covers were undisturbed, and it didn’t look like he’d slept next to me.
For a moment, I stared at the ceiling, letting the fog in my brain clear. Weak morning light peered through the half-drawn curtains of the balcony doors.
Stifling a yawn, I sat up, perching on the side of the bed for a moment.
I needed caffeine. And then I’d find Hadrian and have it out with him. I felt like I was being punished and we needed to clear the air.
After using the bathroom and quickly brushing my teeth, I went to the walk-in closet. I opened the drawer on one of the dressers that had been relegated for my use. I pulled out a pair of gray cashmere leggings and a black wool sweater that fell to the middle of my thighs.
I padded my way to the kitchen, peeking my head into the roo
ms as I passed. No sign of Hadrian.
A woman with graying blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and dimpled cheeks smiled at me when I walked in.
“Good morning,” she said in Norwegian-accented English.
“Hi,” I said. “You must be Ingrid.”
Ingrid continued rolling the dough in front of her with a rolling pin as she nodded. “Yes.”
“I’m Eden,” I introduced.
“I know.” She winked and then brushed a stray lock of blonde hair that had fallen across her forehead with the back of her hand. “Coffee is on, and the biscuits are going into the oven in a few minutes.”
“Biscuits?” My mouth watered at the thought of buttery, flaky biscuits. Perfect to eat on a cool morning.
“Biscuits and gravy. They’re worth the wait, I promise.”
“They sound delicious. I’ll definitely wait.” I moved around the kitchen to grab a mug and filled it with coffee. I drank it black, so I had to wait for it to cool.
“Do you know where Hadrian is?”
Ingrid didn’t reply right away as she used a glass to make perfect circles in the dough. “He’s gone.”
“Gone?” I repeated. “Gone where?”
“Left this morning on business.” Ingrid didn’t meet my eyes.
Gone the morning after he brought me here? After he’d just admitted that he didn’t travel often for work?
“You know something,” I accused.
She shook her head. “I know nothing.”
“You’re his housekeeper.”
“Hadrian doesn’t confide everything in me.”
I continued to stare at her. “You do know something. Otherwise you’d be able to look me in the eye.”
She set the raw biscuits on a cookie sheet and then placed the entire thing into the oven. Ingrid pressed a few buttons, including the timer, and then faced me directly.
“I’ve known Hadrian for a decade,” she said. “He’s my employer, but I also take care of him the way I take care of my own children.”
“Your loyalty is to him, then,” I said with a nod. “I get it. But did he really have business? Or was that the excuse he gave you when he left?”
She shrugged.
“I guess it doesn’t matter. He left without saying goodbye though.”
“He’ll call.”
I wasn’t sure that he would.
“I’m not hungry anymore,” I murmured. “It was nice meeting you, Ingrid.”
Not wanting to see her look of pity, I turned and left the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. I took it back to Hadrian’s bedroom. I plucked my cell phone from the nightstand and went out onto the balcony.
There were no texts or calls from Hadrian. Disappointment washed over me.
I set my coffee on the balcony table and took a seat in a comfortable chair. I found Tiffany’s number in my favorites list and called her.
“I was just about to text you,” she greeted.
“Really?”
“Yup. You’re a wench. Did you know that?”
Despite my low mood, I laughed. “Why am I a wench?”
“Because you didn’t call and tell me everything that happened the night you had dinner with your mysterious benefactor. All I got was a lousy text message saying that you were getting on a plane to Shetland.”
“It wasn’t just a plane. It was his private jet,” I said drolly. “And mysterious benefactor? Can you not call him that? It makes me feel like a—”
“Kept woman? Mistress? Courtesan? You are those things. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I guess I am.” I sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Not nothing. You should be squealing like a girl who won the lottery, because you kind of did. So come on, tell me every detail.”
“I can’t tell you every detail,” I reminded her.
“No, I guess you can’t. But you can tell me some things. I’m going mad here. I’m dying to know who this guy is and how this even happened. You were only at one event and you gave away your key to—oh. Is it him? The guy from that night?”
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “It’s him.”
“Wow. You must’ve rocked his world.”
“Oh my God, will you stop?” I laughed.
“How was the flight over?”
“The flight was amazing. First, we flew on his private jet to Lerwick, and then we took a yacht to his island.”
She whistled. “That sounds kind of awesome…so, why do you sound so despondent?”
I fell silent while I pondered what I wanted to say next. “He makes me forget,” I said finally.
“Forget what?”
I let out a slow exhale. “Forget why I’m really here.”
Tiffany paused for a moment and then asked, “How much did he offer you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Bullshit. I think it matters very much. Your time is literally money.”
It was cold and callous and…true.
“A million for a six-month exclusive contract.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“I’m not,” I said. “I don’t even care about the money. I would’ve taken the contract for half that. A quarter that.”
“You would’ve taken the contract for free, wouldn’t you?”
I closed my eyes. “Yes.”
“Oh, Sterling, no.”
“No? No, what?”
“You have feelings for this guy.”
“Damn right I have feelings for this guy. Annoyance, frustration… We’ve only just gotten here and he’s already left. His housekeeper said he went away on business, but he hasn’t called or texted or—”
“You’re not his girlfriend,” she said gently.
It was like a slap to my cheek. “I know.”
“If you know, then why are you expecting him to behave like a boyfriend?”
“I haven’t told you the reason he left. I—I dug into his past and he didn’t like what I asked him about. So, he ran.”
“He’s still not your boyfriend,” she said. “It doesn’t matter what you say or don’t say. All that matters is that you’re paid to entertain him. God, Sterling, this is what the training is for, to teach you how not to get involved in shit like this.”
“So, it’s okay for him to ask questions about my past and demand answers, but I can’t do the same?”
“He’s asking questions about your past?” she queried.
“Yes, and no matter what I say, he won’t stop.”
“Okay, every time he asks you a personal question, just find a way to occupy his brain in a different way.”
I let out a laugh. “If only that would work. He’s relentless.”
“You so like him.”
“I do like him.” I sighed.
“As long as liking him doesn’t turn into something more. He’s a client. It’s about the money. You have to remember that.”
“I don’t know if I can be that heartless.”
“You’re not being heartless. It’s business.”
“It doesn’t feel right.”
“That’s your programming talking. Take the money. You can afford to have principles later.”
“He wasn’t supposed to do this,” I murmured. “It was supposed to be six months of pampering and sex and laughing. Nothing like this. Nothing heavy. He went and changed the rules on me.”
“Babe, hate to break it to you, but you don’t even know what game you’re playing.”
There was a muffled sound on the other end of the line and Tiffany said, “Sterling? I gotta go.”
“But you haven’t told me about London yet,” I protested.
“Magical, beautiful, everything I could’ve hoped for.” She paused. “Listen, every time you forget why you’re there, or you find yourself thinking that you want to know more about him, remember the money. Remember the freedom it will buy you. Okay, that’s the last of my lecture. Cheerio, poppet.”
We h
ung up and I set my phone on the balcony table.
Lifting the coffee cup to my lips, I stared out across the endless horizon. It was tranquil here, a true haven. But this wasn’t my haven and deluding myself into thinking I was anything but a Rex girl was detrimental. Tiffany was right. Hadrian was a client—a client I liked and enjoyed, in and out of bed. But I refused to let it become more. We could be friendly, we could laugh and talk, exchange stories of our pasts, but I wouldn’t let it develop further.
“I wanted to tell you breakfast is ready,” Ingrid said, startling me into splashing lukewarm coffee all over the front of my sweater.
She came to my side and had the grace to look sheepish. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay,” I said, throwing her a genuine smile. “I didn’t hear you and the coffee wasn’t hot. Thank you for the food. That’s very thoughtful.”
“Change your sweater and then come to the kitchen to eat your breakfast. I don’t want it to get cold.”
Ingrid left the balcony before I could reply. It seemed she and Hadrian were cut from the same cloth. Both of them commanded and expected their orders to be obeyed.
I didn’t have the energy to protest. I changed my sweater and then headed to the kitchen. Ingrid was pouring a glass of orange juice when I entered.
“Sit.” She waved to a kitchen stool at the island and pushed the plate in front of me.
“This looks delicious.” I picked up my napkin and set it in my lap and then I reached for the fork and knife. I cut into the flaky biscuit doused in brown gravy and stuck a bite into my mouth.
I moaned in delight. “How is Hadrian not five hundred pounds? Your food is unbelievable!”
She smiled and preened at my compliment. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
Ingrid cleaned up the kitchen as I continued to demolish my food. I was quickly becoming a convert of hearty breakfasts.
“Hadrian has never brought a woman here, ever,” she said as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
I swallowed the last bite of biscuit and patted my mouth. “Never?”
“Never. The fact that he brought you here speaks volumes,” she said.
I clamped my mouth shut. I wasn’t going to ask her if she knew the circumstances of how I’d met Hadrian. He was a private person, and she had already told me he didn’t confide everything in her.
