Chapter Three
Elena
“Hmm…” I moan softly, slowly coming awake.
I roll over on soft sheets, feeling small and lost in the luxuriously large bed. Gradually, I open my eyes, and the first thing I notice is the absence of ache in my head as I take in the brightly lit room. I push myself upright, shifting until my back presses against the headboard, and I look around, my eyes widening in surprise. The bedroom is bigger than any I’ve ever been in. An image of my apartment, basically a cardboard box with barely enough room to fit in a small closet and a twin bed, flashes in my mind.
I let my gaze move around the bare room. Except for the feather-like queen-sized bed and the luxurious furniture, the room has an impersonal feel. Just like its owner.
With that thought, the events of last night flood my mind—the cold-eyed stranger who swept me off my feet, and how strange it is that I feel safe with him.
Lucian Devereaux.
Not only did he catch me when I lost consciousness, he made a public declaration that I belonged to him. I also remember that he brought in a doctor to check me out the moment we arrived in his mansion, though I must have fallen asleep shortly after that.
Despite the gaps in my memory, I know a dangerous man when I see one. Yet I find myself wanting to get closer to him.
I wonder what it’d be like to see him laugh. Would his piercing blue eyes brighten up and crinkle at the sides just like they do in my imagination? Unlikely.
He’s difficult to read—a man whose face is set in stone. I shouldn’t fantasize about him, but I can’t help the butterflies in my stomach at the thought of him. His mere presence sets my heart racing and my body burning with a need I don’t fully comprehend.
What about him affects me so much?
Sure, he’s handsome—and more than that. He’s Adonis in the flesh. A freaking god. Any woman would fall for that gorgeous face and perfectly sculpted body, right ?
Even one with half a brain who doesn’t remember how she got into this mess.
I let out a sigh, struggling against the void opening up in my chest. I’m safe now, and that’s all that matters. Still, something tells me I shouldn’t let my guard down. Lucian Devereaux is a consuming fire, and if I’m not careful, I’ll soon be engulfed in his flames.
Exhaling softly, I push the soft, white sheet off my body. I need to get it together and focus on regaining my memories. I don’t have the luxury of fantasizing about a devilishly handsome man who’s obviously way out of my league. I frown down at the white shirt covering my body.
“Did he…?”
Heat flushes my cheeks at the thought of Lucian changing my clothes. Still, I suppose it’s better than waking up in that obscene dress I was made to wear last night.
I push off the bed, the smooth hardwood floor cool against my bare feet. As I walk out of the room, my mind wanders, and I find myself in another large room that adjoins the bedroom. It’s a bit livelier than the bedroom, with three dark couches arranged around an exquisite glass table, and art displayed on the cream-painted walls.
My gaze catches on a particular piece—a landscape with rolling hills and green fields. There’s nothing truly spectacular about it, except for the sharp brushstrokes and bold details that make it stand out.
As I admire the piece, a memory niggles at the back of my head. It seems important, and my mind unconsciously grasps at it, but it slips away. My frown lingers as I leave the suite and walk down the hallway. There’s an urgency inside me, and I’m filled with the need to remember something connected to a piece of art—a painting. Is it connected to my amnesia?
My head starts to ache. I immediately push away the urge to remember as I’m reminded of the unbearable pain in my head last night. Instead, I focus on searching for the stone-faced Adonis who rescued me.
My guardian angel.
At the end of the hallway, I walk down a set of steps, landing on the main floor of the huge mansion. The living area is a huge room with modern fixtures and opulent furniture. I can’t help but wonder what the owner has against decorations and knickknacks to spruce up his home.
Except for the few pieces of art on the wall, the room is bare and sterile, like the bedroom suite. No pictures or personal touches. I walk deeper into the living room, my hands gliding along the backs of the couches and my feet sliding on the smooth and marbled flooring.
Before long, I’m standing at an entryway and peeking into the kitchen. I let out an unconscious sigh at the sight of the modern appliances, and my mind is flooded with memories of me as a young girl, giggling with my mother in a small kitchen, baking and cooking together.
I let the memories wash over me, the nostalgic feelings bringing tears to my eyes. Knowing that I still have those memories makes my chest swell with a feeling of joy. If I can remember all of my life up to about a week ago, surely the rest will come back soon enough.
I move away from the kitchen and walk down the wide corridor. Short, deep grunts reach my ears, and a delicious shiver runs through my entire body as I draw closer to the origin of the sound.
When I reach the doorway at the end of the hall, a soft exhale leaves my lips as I take in the scene in front of me. Lucian is next to a large floor-to-ceiling window, shirtless. Dots of sweat line his wide back, his muscled shoulders flexing as he pulls himself up on a bar a few inches above him.
My legs suddenly grow weak, and it has nothing to do with my condition. I lean against the doorframe, watching his angular jaw clench with every pull, a strange heat blooming in my core.
What am I doing?
I should make my presence known, but I can’t stop staring at him, as if there’s something holding me in place. He lets go of the bar and turns around, giving me a complete view of his glistening, contoured body. A wave of lust punches my gut as my gaze shifts up to his face. He is absolute perfection. His face is all chiseled angles, with perfectly arched brows, a straight nose, and sexy lips.
My fingers tingle as I think about gliding them over his tanned skin. My chest tightens in response and my heart starts to beat impossibly fast. His hands flex as his grip tightens on the bar, and my nipples pebble in response. I imagine those hands sliding down my body, digging into my skin.
“Have you seen enough?” Lucian drawls, letting go of the bar with practiced ease and bouncing on his feet.
I startle out of my haziness, my breath catching in my lungs as I meet his striking blue eyes. He walks over to me, dabbing a towel over his forehead.
My heart jolts in my chest, and I straighten, feeling like a kid caught doing something bad. “No…yes. I mean, I…” I clear my throat and slowly exhale, pushing down my nervousness. “Your place is huge,” I say as he stops a few steps before me. “I didn’t see anyone, so I decided to look for you,” I whisper, my face burning with embarrassment.
Still, my eyes stay unmoving on his, the impact of his stare rendering me breathless. His stern face softens into a tender expression that transforms his whole face for a mini-second. “Sorry about that. The doctor said you needed rest, and I thought I would get in some exercise before you woke,” he says in a rich, deep voice that pulls at my core.
“Oh,” I whisper, curling my fingers beneath the tails of the shirt I’m wearing, feeling nervous and shy under his direct gaze.
“Did you change my clothes?” I ask, blushing harder.
“No, my housekeeper did. Or would you rather it was me?” he asks.
“No! I mean…I just…”
Half of his mouth tilts upward in a smirk, and I realize he’s teasing. When I laugh softly, it turns into a full-blown smile. So he can smile. I find myself gaping at the unexpected transformation. I imagined how he’d look if he ever lost that stern expression, but nothing prepared me for the light in his beautiful blue eyes. I thought he couldn’t get any more attractive, but— boy, was I wrong.
“It’s alright. I’m just pulling your leg,” he assures me, still smiling.
“I didn’t know you could smile,” I say, almost breathlessly. I gasp quietly as soon as the words leave my lips. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t…”
He starts to chuckle, though the sound cuts off immediately. “I didn’t know I could either,” he admits. “I guess I have you to thank for that.” He hangs the towel on a nearby piece of workout equipment.
“Y-you’re welcome,” I squeak in a high-pitched voice that makes my words sound more like a question.
Oh, get it together, Elena!
“How do you feel now? You were out of it last night,” he says, his eyes worriedly roaming my face.
“Much better,” I say. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
“You’re welcome, angel.”
“Funny—that’s what I call you in my head,” I tell him.
“What?” He looks shocked.
“My angel.”
His eyes narrow. “Why?”
“Because I didn’t think I’d escape my fate, and then you came along and saved me.”
He remains quiet for a while, his expression unreadable. He’s no longer smiling. And just when I start to think I’ve committed some kind of faux pas, he moves closer to me, enveloping me with his scent—a heady combination of earth and wood.
“Can I kiss you, Elena?”
I look into his eyes and my breath hitches. He isn’t asking for permission. He’s informing me of something inevitable. My eyes drift closed as his mouth closes over mine. His lips are hard and unyielding, turning my world on its head.
Pleasure zings down my spine as he slips his hand under the back of the shirt, caressing my spine. I shiver slightly under his touch as I open my mouth for his exploration. Wetness floods my core as his tongue glides over mine, heating me up from the inside out.
Tentatively, I slip my hands up his hard chest, clutching his shoulders, reveling in his taste. I moan into his mouth as he nips on my lips, sucking gently and sending shivers of sensations to my core.
He kisses his way down the side of my neck to the pulsating corner of my throat. When he sucks gently on it, pleasure swamps my blood, my knees going weak. His grip tightens around my waist as he holds me up. Then, he lifts me, and I wrap my legs around him.
He pulls back his head and stares at me, his eyes ablaze with hunger. “I’m going to make love to you, Elena.”
Once again, it’s a gentle command. One that I am helpless against.
“Yes,” I rasp, surrendering to the urgent need inside me. “Yes, please.”