by Ebony Olson
I smirked. “What makes you think talking with you would put me to sleep?”
Darius smiled. “I can be very boring.” He held out his hand to me.
I sucked in a breath of courage and took his hand. He didn’t lead me to his study as I expected, but to his bedroom. He opened the heavy wooden doors, waited for me to pass, and closed them after us. The corridor leading forward was lined with what I took to be wardrobe doors. The door at the end of the corridor was open and the tiled floor and wall indicated that was his bathroom.
Darius walked forward two meters and opened a door on his left, leading me into his bedroom. The bed backed onto the corridor wall, bedside table on either side, door at the opposite side to reach the bathroom faster. There was a large window opposite the bed, a pop up television cabinet at the foot of the bed, and that was it for furniture.
I stopped. “I don’t think this is the place for talking, boss.” I didn’t use his name so I could pointedly remind him of our relationship.
“You need to sleep, I am ready to sleep. I believe, after the shock you suffered today, you need comforting. I respect your boundaries, Mora. We will sleep, nothing more.”
I started shaking my head and backing out of the room. Darius caught my face in his hands.
“Trust me, Mora. You need this.” He pulled me into his arms and hugged me. It wasn’t sexual, his hands held my upper back and the back of my head. It felt so nice being held by those strong arms, so safe and protected. I felt like I belonged in those arms. He held me to him tight until I relaxed into him. Then Darius eased his grip but continued to hold me a little longer.
Pulling back Darius looked down into my eyes, his hazel eyes soft with emotion. “Now get into bed, Miss Ellis, and I’ll hold you while you sleep.”
He stepped away, pulling back the covers on his bed and holding them till I complied. To say I felt uncomfortable climbing into my boss’s bed would be an understatement.
“Just to clarify. This isn’t considered breaking your rule about sleeping with guys under your roof?” I asked as Darius lifted his shirt over his head revealing his torso to me. My body reacted immediately. Nope, this was not a good idea.
Darius didn’t smirk like I expected. He unbuttoned his jeans, casually pushing them down before kicking the pile of clothes to the side. I thanked the gods he wore boxer briefs.
“To clarify,” Darius climbed into the bed beside me, pulling the covers over us before hitting a button beside the bed which turned out the lights, “the only man you are permitted to sleep with under my roof, or at work, is me.”
He pulled me into his arms, and for one heart-stopping moment I thought he was going to kiss me again. His breath rattled out of his chest as if he was straining himself, his arms tensed around me. This was hard for him, he was struggling in allowing me into his bed. I put my hand on his muscled chest and tilted my head back to try and see his face in the dark.
“This isn’t going to work, Darius. We are both tense and uncomfortable trying to force this. I should go back to my room.” I pushed on his chest, his arms tightened like a boa constrictor.
“Stay. I’ll relax as soon as you do.” His breath breezed across the top of my head. “What would make you feel more comfortable? How do you normally sleep with your boyfriend?”
“Naked,” I answered automatically. I tensed and backtracked. “Not that I’m suggesting we get naked, I just...”
“What position, Mora?” Darius growled with a deep voice that sent my pelvic muscles into a spasm.
I took several deep breaths to calm myself, both my hormones and my anxiety. Darius waited patiently.
“Lie on your back,” I instructed.
Darius released his hold and rolled onto his back, his arm still under my neck. I molded my body to his side, placed my head in the nook of his shoulder and my hand above his heart. I closed my eyes and took a few more deep breaths, telling myself it was Jasper I was lying next to. My body started to relax and as soon as I did, so did the body I was lying on.
I woke in the morning by myself. I looked at the clock beside the bed and saw it was already after eight. Normally, I was in the office by now. Darius usually went running and to the gym in the morning. He showed up at the office with the brothers before nine.
I sat up in the bed and looked around Darius’s room. I felt the emotions hit me like I’d been punched in the stomach. I curled over myself and started crying. This couldn’t be happening. I’d been so sure I could keep things professional between Darius and me. I wouldn’t have taken the job otherwise. Last night crossed a line.
After several minutes of purging the guilt I felt, I pulled myself together and climbed out of my boss’s bed. On the bonus side, everyone would be at work, so I could get back to my room with no one knowing what happened. Everyone, that is, except Steffen. He was in the kitchen as I walked past.
“Miss Ellis,” he called. “Would you like some breakfast?” His voice was tense and I wasn’t greeted with the customary ‘good morning’.
With a deep breath I stepped into the kitchen. Steffen stopped to look at me. I imagined it was the look he gave his daughters when they did the walk of shame in their older years. It broke me. I started crying again.
“Steffen. I’ve made a huge mistake.”
He nodded. “I know, Miss Ellis. You should never have taken the job.”
***
“Everything looks in order with the financial side of things, Miss Ellis. I will chase up the deeds to the property for you. They should have been included with everything else, but it could be the bank are holding them until you tell them where you would like them sent.” John Hicks explained. The former supreme justice was forced to stand down after an infidelity scandal. Now, he was my father’s attorney, the one who knew I was Marshall’s biological daughter.
“Thank you, John.” Marshall Blake shook his hand and the lawyer left the table.
There was no denying Marshall was my father. The black hair, the pale blue eyes, and pale skin. Thankfully, I didn’t have his square jaw. Alex, however, was a replica of Marshall. The genetics were obviously very strong.
We were seated in Gordon Ramsay’s restaurant in London, not far from Marshall’s home in Flood Street. I sat back throwing my napkin on the table. Marshall looked at me.
“She’s kept the property, perhaps already transferred the deeds to her name,” he explained as he took a drink of water. “What do you want to do?”
“Let her keep it.” I picked up my own water. I was pretty sure my headache had nothing to do with the amount of wine I drank last night, but where I slept.
“You do not intend on going back there to live?” Marshall queried. He signaled a waiter for the bill.
“No.”
“Okay, we will let her keep it, but she will pay you for it. That property must be worth a few million.” Marshall signed the bill the waiter brought him.
“I already have the inheritance.” I dismissed. I’d cashed the check before meeting my father at his office.
“So how does it feel to be a millionaire?” Marshall smirked at me.
“Not quite a millionaire. I feel the same as I did yesterday with only $20,000 in the bank.” I took a couple of Panadol hoping to cure the thumping in my head.
“When you get the money for your grandmother’s waterfront property, you will be a millionaire,” Marshall smiled. “At which point, I would like you to reconsider working for me.”
“Marshall.” We’d been having this argument for a year.
He held up his hand. “You wanted to make your own way in the world, just like Alex did. I understood. I did the same. This will not be about the money now. One day you will have a fifty percent share in my business with your brother. I think it is time you both came on board and started earning your staff’s respect.”
I shook my head. “Blake Industries will be Alex’s inheritance. He’s worked toward proving himself good enough
to follow in your footsteps. I’m happy in the job I do. I don’t want to be someone’s boss.”
Marshall tapped the table. “You want to spend the rest of your life as an executive assistant?”
Well there you go. Alex didn’t tell Marshall everything. He didn’t know I was working as a personal assistant now.
“No. Eventually, I want to get married, have a few brats just like me, be a good mother and wife, and work hours that enable me to be home for my kids after school,” I revealed.
Marshall raised a brow. “I didn’t know that. I never expected those career aspirations from Liza Ellis’s daughter.”
“Did you expect them from yours?” I countered.
Marshall smiled gently. “I never gave much thought to what a daughter of mine would do. I believe all I ever hoped for, was for you to be a good person and nothing like your mother. You have not disappointed me.”
“Well then, we have the same aspirations for my future. My plan is to be the exact opposite of my mother.” I set my glass of water down after another mouthful. “Speaking of which. I believe you were going to give me your side of the story?”
“Yes, but not here.” Marshall put his napkin on the table and stood.
A waiter pulled out my chair as I started to stand. I nodded my thanks and followed my father out the restaurant. We walked quietly until we entered Physic Garden.
“Your mother interned for Blake Industries as a grad student. At first I would just see her around the office while consulting with my managers, but then she kept turning up in the pub I frequented after work. Soon enough, we were sleeping together. Never at work, but she was at my place more regularly than not afterwards,” Marshall started.
“It certainly was not love for either of us. Once we were done in the bedroom we barely had anything to talk about. After several weeks, Liza started talking about her degree finishing, and how she would need to return to Australia unless she could find a job here.”
Marshall looked out over the park. “I wrote her a glowing reference to aid her in getting a good entry level role. That’s not what your mother expected.”
“She expected you to give her a good role in your company?”
“Yes.” Marshall slipped his hands into his pockets. “Liza wanted a manager’s role.” He turned his topaz blue eyes to my matching ones. “I did not become the director of a fortune five hundred company by making stupid decisions. Liza was fun, she was not a commitment. I realized in that moment she was a risk to my business.”
“So you showed her the door.”
“Yes. She was not happy.” Marshall looked ahead again. “That was the last I heard from, or anything about, Liza Ellis, until six years later.”
“Freida contacted you?”
“My personal assistant received a call from directory telling her a Freida Ellis was on the line and that it was very important. Your grandmother was very lucky I was in a good mood that day. I had actually forgotten Liza’s surname and did not even connect the two. Then I got on the line and Freida kindly explained she was Liza’s mother, and that our daughter was currently in hospital fighting for her life. She thought I should at least know you exist before you died.”
“That must have been a shock?” I kept my eyes on the path in front of me. We were circling the park.
“It was. Knowing Liza, I expected had she bore me a child she would have come after me for everything. I asked for confirmation. Freida emailed me a copy of your birth certificate and a photo. I was named as your father, but it was the photo that convinced me. You are the spitting image of my mother, Mora. There was no denying the connection.”
He smiled at me. “I was on a plane within an hour, and by your bedside thirty hours later. You were badly injured and unconscious. The doctors did not think you would make it, and, if you did, they believed you would never walk again.
“I could not believe all that damage was done by a tumble down the stairs. I confronted Freida, who was there with you, and that is when I found out you were home alone when it happened. You were six and your mother left you alone. I could not believe it.”
“Who told you that crock?” I looked at him, disgusted.
Marshall looked shocked. “Freida told me your mother called her and told her she got called out for work and could she go check on you. Is that not what happened?”
“No,” I tempered my response. “Liza was there that day. She was busy with her boyfriend at the time. I had to feed myself and cut my finger trying to butter my toast. I went to show her and get a band aid and walked in on them naked.
“She started yelling at me. She dragged me out of her room and threw me. I slid across the timber floor and then down the stairs. When they saw me lying at the bottom of the stairs they freaked, grabbed their stuff and left. Nan arrived thirty minutes later and called the ambulance.”
Marshall stopped walking, a mixture of pain and anger flashing in his eyes. “She left you there, broken bones, bleeding internally, and left?”
I nodded, keeping my emotions out of it. “Yes. You didn’t expect her to go down for child abuse did you?”
Marshall closed his eyes. “If I had known this, I would have stood a chance of getting custody of you.”
I frowned at him. “Why would you do that? You live a bachelor’s life. You work just as long hours as her. How could the life you offered me been any better?”
“You would not have suffered your mother’s abuse for one,” Marshall replied angrily.
“I didn’t after that. Nan made sure she was there every day and Liza stopped acknowledging my existence.” I turned and started walking again.
“I would have liked to have been there for you, to get to know you, Mora. You are my daughter, I would have gone out of my way to be there for you.”
“As I hear it, you did. I just wasn’t allowed to know about it.”
Marshall hung his head. “I could not believe the judge’s decision. It was bad enough to deny me shared custody, but to deny me the right to even know you—my lawyer suspected there might have been some bias on the judge’s part. No one could believe he gave your mother everything she requested.”
I cocked my head. “It wasn’t Judge Harold Grady, was it?”
Marshall stopped walking again. “How did you know?”
I shook my head. “That was the lover who watched her throw me down the stairs. It was his neck on the line too if he crossed her. They married just before I moved here.”
Marshall gritted his teeth. “That lying, cheating...” He swallowed the rest of it. “I should have followed the decision up by having both of them investigated. John suggested it, I decided it had cost enough emotionally and moved on. Your nan allowed me to be part of your life as best I could, and eventually we introduced you to Alex, even though you never caught on to that either.
“When I got the call from Freida telling me you were on your way to London, I half hoped you had finally found out about me and decided to come and meet me. Freida quickly explained that Liza had purchased you the plane ticket and kicked you out. She asked me to look after you.”
“Wait. Mum didn’t call you?”
“No. I called her. I got a minute of her time. Long enough for her to call me a few foul names, tell me you were an absolute brat, too much like me, and she could not stand having you there anymore. You were my problem from here on in.” Marshall rolled his eyes. “She obviously did not grow as a person with age and experience.”
“So, when you showed up at the airport?”
“As soon as I knew you were coming, I had a room decorated for you and waited at the airport. You were actually only four hours behind me in landing. Tabitha had a field day decorating your room, though the time frame nearly gave her conniptions. When I told her I was taking the week to settle you in—well let us just say, I have never seen that look of shock on my assistant’s face. Of course, I was back at work within two days, after you made your feelings a
bout getting to know me clear.”
“I’m sorry about that. I thought you were suffering my existence as much as Liza had. Plus, the shock of actually meeting my father. It was all a bit much with moving country with a minutes notice and the expectations of going to a world class university,” I apologized sincerely.
Marshall smiled. “You know, I was quite impressed with your version of rebelling. Not every father gets to brag that his daughter rebelled against her parents by getting a full scholarship to Cambridge.”
“You actually bragged about me to someone?”
“To the people who knew you existed.”
“So your lawyer and accountant?” I frowned, looking away.
“And Alex, his mother, Tabitha, my parents.” Marshall put his hand on my shoulder turning me to look at him. “I kept you quiet because explaining the situation was too hard, Mora. Not because I was ashamed of you.”
“So why doesn’t anyone know about Alex?” I found it hard to believe.
“Ah, well.” Marshall returned to walking. “That was his mother’s request. You see, back when Alex was born, it was Merrida’s reputation on the line. Alex was given my name to carry, but, when he went to college, he chose to go by his mother’s maiden name so that he did not receive preferential treatment for being my son.” Marshall looked at me again. “You know, I would be happy for you to take my name and for people to know you are my daughter, Mora.”
“Let’s leave it as it is right now. Maybe when I’m ready to get married we can discuss that again.”
Marshall frowned. “Married? Did Jasper Jones propose?”
I laughed. “No. I can’t see that ever happening. I think he lost his heart a long time ago to someone else.” I swallowed. “I meant the futuristic marriage, when I meet a man who can handle me.”
Marshall’s brows knitted. “I have to say, Mora, when it comes to you and men, I’ve never quite worked you out there. Everything else about you, you are so much like me, I can grasp it straight away. The men you are interested in however, are always men with commitment issues.”
