15. Alexander
Chapter 15
Alexander
T hree days have passed since the shower incident, and things have essentially returned to normal. Chloe is back in her bedroom, and I’m once again heading to work on my own.
She moved in there of her own accord, which is probably for the best. A part of me misses waking up to find her in my arms. I slept more soundly than I had in years with her beside me. I usually only average five hours a night—if I’m lucky—but I found myself sleeping right through with her there.
Thankfully, the bars were installed on her window while she was still staying in my room, so I don’t have to worry about her escaping again anytime soon. Just the thought of how badly she could’ve been hurt still makes my stomach churn.
I make sure to come home for dinner each night now, though. I’ve learned my lesson—complete avoidance isn’t the answer. I’m just giving her the space she needs, the space we both need. We spend a few hours together in the evenings, and that’s it. I’m not about to push her to the point where she thinks it’s okay to jump out of a two-storey window again.
After dinner, I take her for a long walk around the estate, giving her some fresh air and exercise. It’s the best I can give her right now. My balls are so fucking blue they ache, and if I spend any more time than that with her, there’s a good chance I’ll cross that line and pounce on her again.
Those fucking lips are haunting me.
I’m so desperate for her that I’ve even contemplated—many times—falling back into my old pattern of having any beauty who takes my fancy. The problem is that there’s only one woman I want, and it’s none of them.
Chloe wants me; I can feel it. I’ve been with enough women in my time to know. When my lips first met hers, I half expected a slap across the face, so you can imagine my surprise when she kissed me back.
Her kiss was charged with an urgent hunger, a desperation that spoke louder than words—my reaction to her was no different—the way she gripped my soaked T-shirt, fists tightening as she yanked me closer, until she suddenly pushed me away.
It’s why she ran. She didn’t trust herself to be in that confined space with me. She’s fighting whatever the hell this is between us. And honestly, I can’t blame her. She sees me as the enemy now, but one day, she’ll realise that’s not who I am.
I’m on her side.
I have been from the very beginning.
The weekend rolls around way too quickly for my liking. Despite usually working on Saturdays, I’ve decided to take the day off. Chloe’s been more on edge as the week went on, and since I’m going out later today, I’m not about to push my luck.
I’ve been invited to Antonio’s daughter’s second birthday party this afternoon, and I’m still deciding whether to bring Chloe along or go solo.
My guards will be there, and between us, we’ll keep her in check—at least, I hope we will. She can be very unpredictable.
What worries me more is that she might slip up, say something to the wrong person about her current situation, and blow this whole thing wide open.
If my father finds out what I’ve been up to—and with whom—he’ll blow a gasket. Nothing good can come from that. For her own protection, he can never find out.
Maybe it’s for the best if I leave her at home.
I’d hate if I had to do that, though. I brought her here to give her a better life, but all I’ve done so far is keep her locked away.
Chloe’s eyes widen slightly when she enters the dining room for breakfast and finds me already seated at the table.
“Oh,” she says, pausing in the entryway. “I wasn’t expecting to find you here.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Umm … no. I’ve just gotten used to dining alone during the day.”
Standing, I round the table and pull out her chair. “Sit.”
“Thank you,” she says, glancing up at me briefly as she settles into her seat, offering a small smile. It’s not a scowl, so I’ll take it.
“How’d you sleep?” I ask, retaking my seat opposite her.
“Good. I love that bed. It’s like sleeping on a puffy cloud. My old mattress had a loose spring that always dug into my lower back. ”
I wince slightly. “That doesn’t sound pleasant.”
She briefly raises one shoulder. “It could’ve been worse. At least I had a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in.”
“True.”
“While we’re on the subject, when can I get an update on my dad? Because I’m starting to think you’re just trying to pull the wool over my eyes with all this ‘I’m taking care of him’ talk.”
“I’m not trying to pull the wool over your eyes, Chloe. I told you I’m a man of my word.”
“Prove it.”
I blow out a long breath, weighing my options. When Carmella walks in, carrying a tray with two coffees and a fruit platter, I’m relieved for the distraction.
We sit in silence as she sets the food and drinks down in front of us. It buys me a little more time. She’s been asking me the same question daily, and I can’t keep giving her the same redundant response.
Maybe if I give her a solid update on her father, she’ll stop busting my balls every chance she gets.
I sit up straighter in my seat. This could work in my favour. “Eat,” I say, gesturing to the food. “Then we’ll talk.”
She has a healthy appetite, and for some reason, I get pleasure from watching her eat.
After we finish the second course—a variety of freshly baked pastries—I stand and round the table, pulling out her seat. “Let’s go for a walk,” I say.
Chloe gives me a sceptical look. “Are you stalling?”
“No.”
“You said we could talk about my father after we ate.”
“We can walk and talk. ”
I’d much rather have this conversation in private. It took Carmella a few days to warm up to me again after Chloe blurted out the whole truth about how she came to be living in my home. I don’t want to risk ending up in her bad books again.
When I offer Chloe my elbow, she gives me a side-eye, but to my surprise, she takes it, slipping her arm through mine. I can’t help but grin down at her—that’s a huge step forward in my eyes. At times, she acts somewhat repulsed by my touch.
We’ve been taking walks long enough to fall into a familiar rhythm, following the same path each time.
As we walk past the gazebo beyond the pool area, I make a detour and guide her inside. “Sit,” I say, nodding toward the long bench at the back. “Give me a moment.”
“Where are you going?”
“To make a quick call,” I reply, pulling my phone from my pocket.
I’m unsure if this will work, but I’m willing to try. The morning after she came to stay with me, Antonio and I returned to Chloe’s house to escort Theodore to his temporary home for the following sixteen weeks. We were told he wouldn’t be allowed outside contact for the first month of his stay.
I hadn’t planned on revealing her father’s whereabouts this early, but if I can prove I’m not a complete monster, maybe she’ll start lowering the walls she’s built to keep me at arm’s length. And if she doesn’t have to keep wondering what happened to him after she left, maybe she’ll finally be able to relax.
I can only hope that sharing this will move things forward, not set us back.