by Lynda Chance
He waited a prolonged moment before answering, his eyes searching hers as if debating something and coming to a decision. “Calm down. I’m not talking about sex. I have someone who takes care of that aspect of my life. I don’t anticipate needing anything else from you besides housework. But if it comes up, I’m referring to other types of domestic chores. Shopping, organizing, that type of stuff. You think you’re up to it?”
She swallowed and licked her dry lips. “Yes, that’s fine.”
His eyes fell to her lips and stayed there a heartbeat too long before he spoke again. “Okay. That part is settled then. I appreciate you cooking supper for me tonight, but it won’t be needed on a daily basis. I’m usually out at night. I’ll let you know beforehand if I’ll be in. I have a service that delivers groceries as needed, and we’ll keep using that, although you can begin placing the orders.”
“How long—how long will you need me?”
“How long will your sentence last?” he qualified.
“Yes.”
“A year.”
“A year?”
“It would take you four or five years at the least if you began paying me in installments. This way you get it taken care of quickly, and I don’t have to worry about you skipping town on me.” The look he gave her was like an arrow hitting its mark. “And Natalie, don’t for one second think about skipping out on me. Trust me, I’ll find you, and you won’t care for the outcome. You do as you’re told, work hard, and you’ll find I’m extremely easygoing.”
Natalie sat back under the cold precision of his dark eyes. “When can my cousin get his car back?” she asked him softly.
“Write the address down for me and I’ll have it towed to his house.”
She shifted restlessly and then said, “I was hoping to have it repaired. I need to drive—”
“You’re not driving without insurance, and you can’t afford the cost right now. If you need to go somewhere, I’ll arrange a driver to take you wherever you need.” There was absolutely nothing in his tone that implied he might bend on the subject.
“Where’s it at?” she asked.
“The car? It’s being stored at a lot.”
“How much is that costing me?” As she asked the question, he reached across to her and handed her a pen, motioning for her signature. She accepted it from him, took a shuddering breath, and scribbled her name on the contract before she changed her mind.
He leaned back in his seat and the expression that passed over his face was one of satisfaction that he didn’t seem to try to hide. “I’m covering it. You don’t need to worry about it.”
He folded the contract in two and then once again before holding it tightly in his hand. Natalie tried to keep her mind on her immediate needs and not on the inexplicable expression on his face and the unrelenting grip he had on the document she had signed. “Do you have access to it?”
His eyes penetrated hers. “What do you need?”
“My clothes,” she said simply.
“You’ll have them in the morning.”
****
Two weeks later, Natalie had a routine established. Her nerves still fluttered whenever Marco was around, but he wasn’t around often. He rarely ate in, and he came home from work late at night, and looked at her only briefly with hooded eyes before he locked himself in his study. She had only been asked to cook for him twice, and both times, she had retreated to her bedroom after putting his meal on the table. He was unstintingly polite to her at all times and she attempted her best to remain the same.
The bedroom that he had placed her in on that very first night became hers. She silently wished for the room farthest away from his, but was too afraid to rock the proverbial boat by asking him if she could make the move and she wasn’t brave enough to do it without asking. Except for its location near him, the bedroom she was using was extremely comfortable. It came equipped with a flat screen television, a writing desk, a small sitting area, as well as an en-suite bathroom.
The day her clothes had shown up, so had a sleek, thin, state of the art laptop. After she’d finished in the kitchen, she found it on her writing desk, out of the box and ready to go. She’d had the opportunity to ask him about it that very same evening. “I think there’s been a mistake. There’s a laptop in my room.”
“Do you have a computer already?” He had to know she didn’t.
“No.”
“Then it’s for your use. There’s wifi in the building.”
“Thank you. And thank you for the cell phone as well.”
He nodded his head once and then looked back to his own computer screen, dismissing her altogether.
And that had been that. He hadn’t bothered to ask if she had a dedicated phone number—so she sent out a mass text message to her contacts informing them of the new number.
Natalie had also spoken to her mother and assured her of her welfare. She hadn’t told her the complete truth, only that she’d gotten a temporary job as a cleaner. She’d learned from the conversation that her mom still had the live-in boyfriend. Someday, she reminded herself, her mother would see that he was no good. Until that day came, Natalie consoled herself with the thought that he was very likely only a cheater and a loser; he didn’t seem to be a drug user or an abuser of alcohol. He’d never shown any violent tendencies. Hopefully, her mom would come to her senses and Natalie could move back to the small town she loved and the job she knew she’d be welcomed back to at the title company, where she’d worked for the last four years.
As far as work sentences were concerned, so far, hers had been a breeze. She almost felt guilty, and it occurred to her with a flare of conscience that crashing into him had possibly been the best thing she’d ever done. She was so used to long work hours, that taking care of his home, so far, had been the easiest job she’d ever had. Granted, she wasn’t earning any money, and she didn’t have a car at her disposal, but after a few easy hours in the morning of wiping the counters, running the vacuum and straightening up, the days were hers.
So far, she’d spent them catching up on her sleep, taking long hot baths, and watching scads and scads of cable television—something she’d never had access to before on a regular basis.
Of course, she’d used the computer to Google him. His name was the first thing she’d put into the search engine. She hadn’t found out as much as she’d expected, mostly information about his bank. It was a family entity, started by his grandfather in the early days after the Second World War. Its home base was in New York, making her wonder why he made his home in Houston. The major stockholder was Marco, who inherited the majority holding when his paternal grandfather had died. His own father had been killed, in a plane crash alongside his mother, when Marco was a boy of nine. Natalie silently winced for him when she had read that he had been orphaned at such an early age. He seemed to be basically alone now, although he had numerous cousins and a few aunts and uncles spread around the world. He was thirty-two years old, his middle name was Rafaele, but she couldn’t find any information on his private life.
She’d given up that endeavor when she’d become frustrated from lack of information and from the sorrow his childhood circumstances caused her. She’d pushed it from her mind and gone back to exploring.
She’d explored the penthouse from top to bottom, and had found the lovely and very private rooftop balcony. The area was designed strategically to block off any high winds, and she’d spent a few pleasant hours here and there working on a suntan she’d never had time for before. She hoped he never caught her during her moments of leisure, but surely she wasn’t supposed to be working twenty-four-seven? There wasn’t possibly that much work available for her to do.
All and all, except for being nervous around him, she was content with her temporary life, if only it weren’t for the nagging guilt that she shouldn’t be having such a restful time. She didn’t have to worry about anything. Not bills, not food, not her mother’s boyfriend trying to sneak into her room in the middle of
the night.
Marco had only called her on the cell phone he had given her twice—the two times he wanted to eat in. And now, inactivity making her claustrophobic, she slipped the phone into the pocket of her shorts and laced her tennis shoes. It had been too long since she’d gotten any real exercise, and surely a building as nice as this one had a gym?
She grabbed the extra key card from the entryway table and took the elevator down. In the two weeks she’d been living here, except for the rooftop, it was the first time she’d been out of the penthouse. Suddenly, she was itching to see the world again and decided to take a brisk walk instead of looking for the gym.
Natalie smiled at the concierge as she walked past, and then again at the doorman. She had a ten-dollar bill in her pocket, just in case, and she set out walking at a brisk pace. It was the noon hour, and the sidewalks of Downtown were full of business-type people. She made a mental note of the corner she started from, and made a quick decision to turn right and take off from there. She quickly caught on to the ebb and flow of traffic; how the lights would change, and the wave of people would cross in front of the stopped cars. She walked up and down the streets rapidly for about half an hour before she became out of breath.
She was hot and sweaty, needed water or a Coke, and decided to head back. There was a commuter train that ran just a few blocks from Marco’s building, and she decided it would be fun to ride it. It only took a few minutes standing on the platform before the train arrived and she was able to board. The train was comfortable, and she watched the sights as they sped by.
She hopped off when she thought she’d gone the correct distance and looked around to get her bearings. She didn’t see anything even vaguely familiar and a tiny sense of foreboding hit her, but she refused to panic. She had her phone if she became lost, and anyway, it was still early in the afternoon.
As she wandered around, she wished she could call her cousin, but knew he wouldn’t be home for weeks. She didn’t know anyone else in the city except Marco, and she wasn’t quite that desperate yet.
She strolled up and down the block. She seemed to be in the hospital district, and wandered around for another fifteen minutes, trying to figure out what to do. The train that had been so easy to catch before didn’t seem to be coming back around, and she didn’t think the money she had would be enough for a cab ride back to her building.
She was waiting at another crosswalk for the next wave of cars to pass when a sleek black Audi pulled up beside her. The window lowered silently. “Get in.”
A mild sense of shock hit her that Marco would appear at the exact moment when she needed him, and the hows and whys of it didn’t occur to her immediately.
She opened the door and slid inside. “What are you doing here?” she asked him.
The light changed, he accelerated and then his eyes briefly left the road and touched on her. “Buckle up, Natalie.”
She did as he said with fingers that trembled and after a few minutes of silence as he drove, she tried again. “How did you happen to be there?”
He didn’t answer immediately, and when he did, his voice was curt. “Coincidence.”
But he didn’t explain further, and she lapsed into uneasy silence, her mind working on the problem in her brain. She didn’t for one second believe it was a coincidence. He had known she was there. And it didn’t take her long before she came up with the only answer there could be to the equation of how he could have happened upon her in a metropolis of over four million people. He was tracking her with her cell phone.
He expected her to do a runner, and the angry tension on his face confirmed it.
But she was innocent of that, and she didn’t want to argue with him. She also didn’t want him to know she’d figured out what he was doing. She wasn’t brave enough to call him on it, and if it was ammunition in her arsenal against him, then all the better. “Thanks for finding me. I was about three minutes away from panicking.”
“Why were you out?” he asked through teeth she could see were clenched. Another wave of apprehension took flight in her stomach.
It was best to stick to the truth. After all, she hadn’t done anything wrong except for assuming she didn’t have to work for him twenty-four hours a day. And somehow she knew that her work schedule wasn’t the problem he had with her leaving the building. She’d tell him the exact truth, all except for the part about knowing he had a GPS locater on her. “I had some extra time and needed some exercise. At first I was going to look for a gym in the building, but the day was so pretty I decided to take a walk.”
“You walked all the way to the hospital district?”
“No, I walked awhile and then tried to take the train back. But it went the wrong way, I guess. I was basically lost when you found me.”
He pulled the car into the underground parking garage of his building and cut off the engine. The light was dim down there, barely permeating the area, and silence enveloped the interior of the vehicle. He turned in his seat to face her, not making a move to get out of the car. That didn’t surprise her. It was too early for him to be home from the bank, anyway. She swiveled to face him as well, putting her back against the door.
He watched her in silence for a moment, his expression held tightly in lines of disapproval and something else she couldn’t quite identify, but nonetheless, had her trembling inside. “You know how dangerous the city can be?” he asked in a voice that only barely contained the menacing anger she knew he was feeling.
Her eyes held his with concentrated effort. “I was never in any danger,” she replied softly, her nerves jumping wildly.
“You think not?” He asked silkily, his hand coming up behind her to land on the back of her seat, trapping her even closer to him and paralyzing her throat with tightness.
“No,” she managed.
“It wouldn’t have taken two seconds for someone to grab you and drive away.” His words were controlled, but with an edge of threat, as if daring her to disagree.
Her breath became shaky, her heart jolting from the smoldering flame in his eyes. “I think you’re exaggerating,” she maintained slowly, licking her dry lips.
His eyes dropped to her mouth. “Do you?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I don’t think you recognize when you’re in danger.” He dropped that softly and it landed like a loaded time bomb between them. Silence pulsed within the confines of the vehicle as she realized what he was saying. Her heart beat erratically and her breath came harder as his eyes left her lips and clashed with hers and refused to release her from his hold.
Her eyelids began to shut, attempting to close him out, and his hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist, denying her even that simple means of escape. Her heart began banging viciously in her chest. “Marco—”
“Shall we conduct a quick experiment?”
She tried again. “Marco—”
“Do you have any fucking idea how beautiful you are?” His voice was pained, and an unbidden image of how it would be if they were to make love crept stealthily through her mind.
Shocked at both his question and the image in her mind, she stammered, “I’m—I’m not.”
“Yeah, Natalie—you are. And you need to be careful. All. The. Time.” His fingers tightened around her wrist, his thumb swirling over her pulse point. “I’d sincerely appreciate it if you’d start taking better care of my twenty-thousand dollar investment.”
A rock lodged in her throat; her feelings were hurt at his blunt assessment. “Twenty-thousand dollar investment,” she repeated flatly. “That’s what I am?”
“You want to be more?” He retaliated quickly, his voice lethally low, his rapier glance passing over her, coming to a halt on her chest, which was rising and falling in agitation.
Her heart banged heavily in her chest as he watched her steadily, waiting for a reaction. She couldn’t form an answer. Her thoughts were disjointed, all over the place. She swallowed hard and tried to still the blood that was p
umping so heavily in her ears that speaking seemed impossible.
His eyes moved to study her lips and Natalie could feel the tension pouring from his large body looming too closely over the console. “Say the word, baby,” he intoned slowly, in a voice that both dared and begged her at the same time.
Her eyes flared at his tense statement and butterflies took flight in her stomach. Dear God, was he saying what she thought he was saying? Or had her fevered imagination only conjured those words up? She couldn’t deal with this—not yet, not now. She pulled on her wrist, attempting to retrieve it from his hold, and tried to defuse the intensity swirling around the enclosed space. “I was lost, Marco—that’s all.”
His eyes narrowed on her, but finally, he released her wrist, while his expression remained tight with strain. “Good thing I found you then.”
She let out a breath, thankful the subject had gotten back on track, away from the dangerous course it had taken moments before. “Yes, thank you.” Her words were polite, but way too stiff. She tried to loosen up the knot of tension in her throat so she could maintain a tone of normality. “Is there a gym in the building?”
A cloud settled over his features and he answered her shortly, “Yes.”
“Do you think it would be okay if I use it once in awhile?”
His eyes were completely remote, gleaming like dark volcanic rock while he studied her within the confines of the car. “I don’t see why not,” he said slowly.
His answer rang false; it seemed to her as if he couldn’t think of a reason fast enough for why she couldn’t use the gym. Curious and alarmed at once, Natalie pasted a fake smile on her face that she hoped he couldn’t see through. “Thanks again. I’ll get back to work. Are you coming up?”
“No, I was on my way to a meeting across town, I’m late as it is.”
Liar. She didn’t believe him for a second; she’d bet her last dollar he’d only left the bank to track her down. “Okay. I’ll see you later.” Natalie reached down and pulled the handle to release the door but it was locked. Still uneasy under his scrutiny, she shot him a questioning look. He held her eyes for the beat of five seconds and then he released the locking mechanism. The second it clicked open, she pulled the handle and jumped from the vehicle.
