Tempted

Hailee

We park in front of the Lewis Mansion. I don’t recognize the building. I haven’t spent much time in Manhattan’s wealthiest neighborhoods, because if I had seen it, I’d remember it.

The building occupies the entire corner of the street. In my mind, I was expecting one of those New York City mansions wedged in between buildings.

This place looks like one of the great big colonial mansions from my hometown in Virginia was lifted up and plopped down here.

It’s somehow not dwarfed by the taller buildings around it. Perhaps because I know it’s a private residence. And in a town where the average price per square foot is fifteen hundred dollars, this house is an absurdity.

I don’t care that I’m staring up at it with my mouth stupidly agape. I gawk like a schoolgirl.

It’s all dark granite and elaborate stone carvings. And is that a gargoyle? I squint up. A whole cabal of them squat along different parts of the roof. My Lord.

I’m going to have to try hard to not make a hidden sex dungeon joke to Lucas. He might think there’s something more to me making that kind of comment about Alex’s house, and I don’t want him getting the wrong idea.

I walk up to the tall oak doors, and the doorman, an older man with a trimmed gray beard bows his head a little. “Ms. Barnes,” he says and ushers me forward with a sweep of the hand.

“Thank you,” I say with an awkward tight smile and my butt clenched. I duck inside, and the doors clank shut behind me.

Oh boy… I look around. Where to begin. I think I stepped into a museum. The floors are tile mosaics. The walls are wood. Presumably Mahogany. That’s the only fancy wood I know. The foyer is lined with plants and paintings and a few sculptures of naked women. They aren’t lewd, but two show plenty of nipple.

Rock hard. I know Alex seems to have that effect on ladies.

I’m expecting a butler to come get me, but when I take a step forward, Alex himself turns the corner.

We stare at each other for a moment. He’s in a black suit and white dress shirt. The black seems to show off just how tan his skin is. How blue his eyes are. The perfect cut of his jaw. His expression is one I can’t read, but it’s not classic, stoic Alex. No, he looks pained.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” he says. His gruff voice seems thicker in this extravagant foyer. The deep sound is more at home here alongside the heavy woods and marbles than it is in our glass-and-steel office.

I’m almost afraid to speak. My body betrays me around this man, and I feel like my voice—small, unimportant and cutesy—might crack.

“I had to do my best Neo impression. Go all Matrix .” I sway my shoulders and start to limbo backwards like I’m Keanu Reeves about to dodge a bullet. I’m such an idiot.

What are you doing? What are you doing?

I limbo back as far as I can, committing to the bit, and when I swing myself back up, I hold my breath, expecting Alex to be pointing me out the door.

But that’s not what happens.

Alex laughs, and he shows me a wide, genuine smile. There it is. Mission accomplished.

His smile is an entity that has never even been photographed to my knowledge, and it’s a damn shame.

You know a man has a good smile when it makes his eyes look twice as gorgeous. His teeth are white and toothpaste-commercial perfect. But I can hardly be bothered to look at his mouth.

His eyes beam. Kind yet sexy. I stare at them so intently that I’ve forgotten to smile back. I blush and turn my head to the floor.

“I’m even happier to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor. Come. We’re waiting for your brother.” Alex turns and starts down the hall.

The mansion is very much a closed floor plan. There are countless rooms branching off the main hallway. After what feels like a full minute of walking, we reach the back, and by now I’m trying to orient myself to where we are in the house.

The east end? West?

I’m already lost in this maze.

Alex opens a set of wood doors and reveals a large living room. I’m sure the room has some fancy English term. Drawing room. Entertaining room. Parlor. I’m not that classy, but it looks like a living room.

There’s an enormous Oriental rug that runs from one wall to the next. In the center is a fireplace, and in front of that is a horseshoe of seating. Two comfy armchairs to make the bottom of the shoe and then a set of leather couches facing each other. In the middle of the horseshoe is a large round coffee table. It’s strewn with books and magazines and binders.

The low ceiling keeps the large room cozy, and it’s coffered with big wood beams that have been carved to depict what looks like ancient scenes. Men on horseback charge one another. On another beam, monks carry pails of water from a well.

Okay, so this is the nicest room I’ve ever been in. I wonder who lived here throughout the last century. Some of the most powerful people in America no doubt. What kind of historic decisions have been made in front of this fireplace?

“We’ll shoot Jack in November and Bobby if he tries to make a run for the Whitehouse himself later,” I imagine an old fat cat saying while munching on a cigar.

“Take a seat,” Alex says and sits in one of the armchairs.

I choose the couch and sit forward with my elbows on my knees like I’m ready for business.

He, meanwhile, couldn’t look more at home. I suppose he is home, but still. He sinks into his armchair. For once his posture isn’t perfect. Today must’ve gotten to him.

“I heard everything about the incident from the police and your brother. I don’t want to make you go over the entire thing again.”

“That’s okay. There’s not all that much to tell. It all took place in just a few seconds.”

Alex nods. His eyes are far away, looking to where a fire would be, but now there’s nothing but the black-stained bricks.

“I’m glad you got here before Lucas. There’s something you and I need to talk about.”

I tense but stay in my business-casual position.

Why’d I choose to sit like this? I look like a junior high volleyball coach about to give a pep talk. I’m just glad Alex is too distracted to make eye contact. He’s quiet, and I wonder if he wants me to respond.

I don’t know what we have to talk about. We’ve exchanged quips that could be a little too flirty for business, but no. As much as a part of me, my clit, my ego, wants this to be about us , I know Alex is about to bring up business.

“I know your position has never been busier or higher stakes, but you’re free to take a leave of absence if you need it. It’d be indefinite. You’d come back when you’re ready.”

There it is. Why am I disappointed? This shouldn’t bother me. If anything, I should be thrilled.

I could take a leave of absence and avoid the shit show that’s happening. I could keep my resume clean and use my near-death experience as a reason to shift career focus if I decide not to return to the company. If I quit now, I wouldn’t be at the end of Alex Blackwell’s barrel. I could apply tomorrow to the reforestation job.

This is great, but something bothers me. I’ve sat in silence for too long. And when I look up, Alex’s blue eyes are on me, unblinking.

My hands grow warm. So does my crotch. He can heat me up with his look alone. And when my mouth moves, I don’t understand what the fuck I’m saying.

“I think I’m good. Thank you, though, Alex. I appreciate your concern.” I can hear my common sense screaming in my head, but I’m too much of a coward to let Alex down.

“If you’re sure,” Alex says. “You’re valuable to us during this time.”

Say I can sleep on it. Say it’s okay if I change my mind. But Alex says nothing. Instead, he stands up. I sit straighter as he walks directly towards me. “I’ll admit,” he says, his thick voice like chocolate. “You don’t seem broken.”

“I’m not.” I say, weakly. It’s hardly a whisper. His crotch isn’t far from my face. I swear I can feel the heat of him. I could reach out. Unbuckle his belt. Feel him grow hard in my hands.

Something seems to have overtaken him. His eyes flash as he moves his thumb to my bottom lip. He pinches it gently and my heartbeat hurries like a hare darting between bushes.

I stare deeply into his eyes as I let my tongue creep out and ever so slightly lick his thumb.

Is this happening? Is this real life?

The world is ultra-clear again like it was during the gunshots. He grunts and works his thumb into my mouth, and I suck. I do so slowly, expertly. I’m shamelessly selling myself for the part where I unbuckle his belt. Where I wet his tip and take as much as I can.

All my reservations have shut up.

I want him to take me like an animal on this rug. I want to ditch skirts for the next week because my knees are stained with a rug burn blush.

An intercom on the wall suddenly buzzes, and an older man’s voice comes over. “Lucas Barnes is here to see you, sir.”

Alex doesn’t fling his hand back to his side. Instead, he slowly removes his thumb as if to say, this isn’t over.

He walks to the intercom on the wall. Its faceplate is gilded. It’s probably original from when the place was built. “Send him in,” Alex says. He walks back to his armchair.

“Lucas doesn’t get a guide back here? I could’ve gotten lost.”

“Lucas knows where to find me.”

Of course. Lucas has probably been here plenty of times. Alex spares my embarrassment and keeps talking.

“Would you like anything to drink? If you’d like to stay for dinner, the chef is in this evening. He’s still taking requests.”

“Oh.” I hold up a hand. I have a hard time taking hospitality from others. I have to remind myself Alex won’t be lifting a finger if I say yes. But it means more work for some private chef. A private chef who probably makes a lot more than I do. “If my brother does, I might. I’d like to see him some more today if he’s not super busy.”

“Of course. You’re invited to dinner either way.”

“Thank you.” I nod at him like he’s a king on a throne. I wouldn’t even characterize myself as socially awkward, but I can’t stop with the stupid gestures. I’m too busy being embarrassed to properly think about his invitation.

It doesn’t feel like he’s asking me to dinner. He’s not. Alex is just being polite.

“Hey everybody,” Lucas says through a big sigh. The words come out with more meaning than just a greeting. They also say, What a shit day.

“Lucas.” Alex stands, and the two bring it in for a quick back-slapping hug. I didn’t take Alex for the type. In fact, I know he’s not. I’ve never seen him hug anyone.

Circumstances are different today.

“How’d your meeting go?” Alex asks.

“Not great.” Lucas walks over and sits on the couch opposite me. He’s lost his brown suit coat, and his dress shirt is a mess of wrinkles. He’s shaking his head like he’s remembering something about the meeting that is still making him angry. “They want to send Rob, Marty, and me to our offices on the West Coast.”

“What?” I say quickly. “But you weren’t a target.”

“Our security consultants said they can’t rule out that I wasn’t. And they made some compelling arguments. I told the CEO of the company to his face that I wasn’t going anywhere, but he wouldn’t have it. I’m supposed to be on a flight to San Francisco tomorrow morning.”

“Assassins can get on planes, too,” says Alex. “Why do they think you’d be safer there?”

“It’s all hush-hush. The company is pretending like we’re just going to be working from home. They have it arranged to drop off fake DoorDash orders to our New York apartments and everything. They say it’s just for a couple weeks, but I don’t trust them.” He puts his head in his hands and runs his fingers over his face before taking a deep breath.

“So you’re going?” I ask.

Lucas closes his eyes and nods. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Hails.”

“It’s okay. I can manage on my own for a little bit, you know?”

Lucas is quiet for a moment before he speaks again. “That gunman saw you with me. They saw your face.”

My skin prickles at the attention. I can feel unease creeping down my spine. I don’t like where he’s going with this. “What are you getting at?”

“I asked our security consultant if that might be a problem, and they also couldn’t rule that out. Family is leverage. They could use you to get to me.”

I realize now how optimistic I’d been that Lucas wasn’t the target. It’s very possible they had been waiting for him to arrive to the lunch before opening fire. “Shit,” I say quietly.

“I wouldn’t have brought this up without a solution. It’s easy.”

“And what’s that? I follow you to San Francisco. Live in a cramped corporate apartment for an undetermined amount of time?”

“No. You stay here.” Lucas looks at Alex. “In this house.”

“Whoa.” Alex holds his hands out.

“What?” I say simultaneously.

“This place is a fortress. That’s why you’re here right now, right, Alex?”

Alex is slow to respond but eventually nods. “Yes.”

“And there’s forty bedrooms.”

“Fifteen,” Alex corrects.

“Oh, never mind, then. There’s no room you, sis.” He rolls his eyes. “Come on. Think about it. You two work in the same office. It’s the same commute. There’s so much space here that could spend a month wandering the halls before you even ran into each other.”

Alex and I are both quiet.

“Look, I’d ask to stay here too, if it were an option. But the optics of me living with the billionaire whose company allegedly helped launder this money with the sale of metals… It’s not really an option.”

I almost want to protest. I don’t want to live as a guest under Alex Blackwell’s roof. But Lucas’s mention of what his security consultant said has made me nervous.

Am I not safe? I look over at Alex, who seems bothered. Maybe it’s because he can’t come up with a good excuse for me not to stay.

I realize now this is why Lucas didn’t consult Alex prior or tell him to think about it. He wanted to put him on the spot and leave no time for him to make a chess move out of it.

“Of course,” Alex finally says. “I’m embarrassed I hesitated. Just old business instinct is all. Keeping your sister safe is an honor.” Alex stands, and the two shake hands.

“Thank you, Alex. It’s a weight off my mind. Even if I’m just being paranoid. I wouldn’t be able to sleep on the other side of the country knowing you were out and about with those people still on the loose.”

“She can borrow my security personnel when she goes out,” Alex adds.

“I can’t thank you enough, man. You know I’ve almost never asked a favor of you.”

“It’s why I like you, Lucas. I don’t know anyone who isn’t always trying to pry something out of me. But let’s leave it at this.”

“Of course.”

I’m trying to read Alex. I hate to admit it, but I think he looks tortured. I realize I’m an affront to his privacy, even if the house has fifteen bedrooms.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” Alex asks.

“I gotta turn on a heel, man. I’m sorry. We’re doing emergency meetings all night to prep for what we’re telling the press, and then I’ve got to pack. I don’t know if you’ve opened the news, but these assassination attempts have blown this story up.”

“I’ve heard.” Alex sticks his hands in his pockets. “You go. I’ll get a ride back to her apartment so she can collect some of her things.”

“Alright. I’ll call you from San Fran. I love you, .”

I get up and give him a long hug. “Will I see you in the morning?”

“Probably not.”

“We’ll Facetime.”

“If I ever have time again,” Lucas jokes, but there’s exhaustion in the words.

“Remember, Lucas. You went into banking. You don’t get to complain about that,” I tease and pat his shoulder.

He grins. “I’ll make it up to you when I’m back.”

“Can I walk you down the football field?” I ask, gesturing down the marble hall.

“Please.”

We say our goodbyes all over again at that front door, and then my brother gets in the back of a black company SUV, and he’s gone.

I have to hold back tears. Busy as we both are, I’ve seen Lucas pretty much every single week since we both moved to New York, and now I might not see him for a month. A month sounds like a long time right now.

And I haven’t even had time to process what has been agreed to. I’ve been too busy digesting the news that Lucas is leaving to even consider my new situation.

But as the doorman shuts the heavy oak doors, feelings start to build in my gut. It’s anticipation. Anxiety. Giddy, crush-like lust.

It’s silent in the foyer.

Alex and me.

Again, alone.

Are we going to resume? I doubt it. The circumstances have changed the charge in the air. I’m his responsibility now. I wasn’t a few minutes ago. Besides, I have my own end of the bargain. I’m not going to betray Lucas’s trust.

Alex appears in the door to the hall. “I can have a car sent around for you to go get your things whenever you like. I’ll be assigning Clyde to you.”

“Huh?”

“He’s one of my bodyguards. One of my best.”

“Thank you.”

We’re both quiet, and although he’s staring right at me, Alex is standing a little farther away. He’s closer to the staircase. I don’t know where to look. The floor? His eyes? His perfectly wavy brown hair?

I settle on not being a coward, and I return his gaze. My skin pricks up. Thousands of little goose bumps. My breathing gets so shallow and my chest so tight that it feels like I’m wearing a corset.

“Look…” Alex bites his lip and raises his brow. He’s annoyed. “If you’re going to be living under my roof, I have a set of rules.”

“Yeah. Like no feet on the coffee table?”

“Not like that.”

“No…dirty dishes in the sink,” I try again, but the joke falls just as flat as the first attempt. Alex is being serious.

Deathly serious.

“No boys, do you understand me? I know it might be a few weeks, but we can’t be allowing any strangers in here.”

A few weeks? I’d be mortified if Alex knew I already haven’t gotten laid in a few months. “Okay. No boys. What about girls?”

He misses my joke and assumes I’m talking about friends. “Give me their names, and I’ll have them vetted.”

“Like they’re running for office or something?”

“You make a lot of jokes for someone who was just shot at. I thought maybe that would make you understand how serious all of this is.”

His criticism is a little gut punch. I can process my trauma however I damn well please, but he’s right about how serious this is.

“I do know. I’m sorry. I’m just…” I can feel my cheeks sear crimson. I don’t care. I take the cloak off and tell him the truth. “I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t be. I’d be willing to bet there’s nowhere safer in the city than right here.”

I pause for a moment. I chew my lip, and my heart beats faster. “I meant nervous of you.”

Alex doesn’t say anything. He just lets out an amused breath through his nose.

I meet his eye. “I notice you’re not saying don’t be this time.”

“Don’t break any rules, .”

“Is there just the one?”

“There’s two.”

I lock eyes with him. I think of Alex walking over to me. Wrapping his hand around my neck. Squeezing gently. I’m sure my flushed cheeks and short breath give my thoughts away. He knows I want to suck more than his thumb. “What’s the other rule?”

He lowers his head and narrows those dangerous eyes. “I’m looking after you. I made a promise. So, with that being said… Don’t tempt me.”

All I can do is give him a little nod. I can’t speak. Although it’s ten feet away, it feels like his big hand with its long fingers is squeezing my neck.

“I promise. I’ll behave,” I finally eke out.

“Good.” Alex puts one foot on the stairs. “Dinner is at seven. The kitchen is through the first door on the right. I’d introduce you to Pierre, the chef, but I’ve got a phone call. If you want to go to your apartment and get your things, just knock on the front door and tell Cooper. That’s the doorman.”

“Great.”

“And this is going to sound funny, but text me if you need me. If you think it’s a maze downstairs, you don’t want to come to the third floor.”

“Sure. I won’t come knocking.”

“I’ll see you for dinner at seven.” Alex heads up the stairs, round and round until he reaches the third floor.

I feel stuck in the foyer. I should just go out the front door and have my car called, but this is my first time to process everything that has just happened in the last five minutes. I’m not sure I’ll enjoy my time here.

This place is more of a castle than a home, and at the moment, I’m picturing my bedchamber as a cold, cobwebbed dungeon with a creepy portrait hanging on the wall over the bed.

Maybe I should’ve pushed back against this. The idea of having all my meals cooked for me is appealing and all, but I like my creature comforts. And I guess this means I can’t even sleep in my bed tonight, and I was really looking forward to that after getting shot at.

I’ve yet to see a TV in this place. I’m sure there is one, although I have an extremely difficult time picturing Alex booting up Netflix. But he’s a good host. There’s got to be a television and potato chips and toilet paper for the mortals who stay with him.

I make a mental checklist of what I should bring and open the door to call the car around. All this time, my heart hasn’t stopped its stupid pounding.

I don’t even like Alex. I’m worried about my brother. About myself. That’s where this anxiety is coming from. At least… that’s what I try to believe.

I step outside onto the sidewalk with a new feeling tunneling into my core. Truth be told, the drama of earlier is far from my mind.

All I can think about is Alex.