Chapter 2 Aliénor #2
I hadn’t visited the rest of the house, just stuck to my bedroom during my occupancy. When I didn’t call for Luca, he didn’t come to me, so I didn’t see him again. I left my bedroom and took the stairs down to the very bottom where the entrance had been.
The butler was there, as if he’d heard my footsteps from the floors above. “Are you leaving residence?”
“Um, yeah.” Unfortunately. These three days had been a silence in my racing mind, a gentleness in my pained heart. It was nice to have peace, just for a moment, not to look over my shoulder or sleep with one eye open.
It’d been a long time since I’d felt that way.
“Could I speak to Luca before I go?”
Both front doors opened, and he stepped inside like he’d just gotten home.
He was in a long-sleeved black shirt, dark jeans, and boots, similar to the way he’d been dressed the first night I saw him.
He had an air of command to his presence but also potent, don’t-give-a-fuck vibes.
He turned his hard gaze on me, and I noticed when his eyes settled on my face, they weren’t as annoyed as they’d been in our previous interactions.
His stare seemed to be his words because he didn’t speak.
“I was just leaving.”
He gave a slight nod.
The butler silently excused himself and stepped through the double doors of another part of the house, maybe the kitchen or the drawing room. I had no idea because I’d only visited a minuscule part of the grand home.
“Thank you for everything.”
“Take care.” He never asked about the night we met. Never asked why a gunman was trying to hunt me down. Either he didn’t care or he respected my privacy. I wasn’t sure which it was.
“I hate to ask for anything else, but…I don’t know how else to get it.”
His eyes looked tired, like he’d been out all night and the day before, but they still had the sharpness of a sushi knife. They narrowed slightly as his attention on my face deepened.
“Can I have a gun?” I’d bought one before, but I’d also been scammed before, and I needed something I could count on.
Without hesitation, he lifted up his shirt and reached for the back of his jeans, showing a glimpse of his hard stomach before he handed me the gun by the barrel.
“I don’t have to take yours.”
“I’m not sentimental.”
I took the gun, the metal warm from being pressed against his skin.
“Know how to use it?”
“Yeah.” I checked the safety before I placed it in my purse.
“Thank you. For everything. Seriously…” Anyone I’d been close to was dead, and anyone else who had been in my life was off-limits.
The second I visited them, they would become targets.
I’d been on my own for years, lonely in existence, the city my only companion.
“Need a ride?”
“No, I’m fine.” I wouldn’t ask him for anything else.
He pulled out his phone. “What’s your number?”
I hesitated before I said it out loud.
He typed it into his phone then hit the call button. A vibration was distinct in my purse as the call went through. Then he quickly hung up and shoved his phone into his back pocket. “Call if you get into a jam.”
That was surprisingly nice. He was cold as ice, but he’d given me enough money to survive without employment for a year and given me his own gun. He’d given me a place to stay when I was a stranger. “I’m sorry I called you an asshole.”
After a pause, a slow smirk grew over his lips. “Never apologize for being right. Always double down.”
I felt an inexplicable attachment to him, a sadness at our parting. Or maybe I just didn’t want to leave the safety he provided, the way his world reminded me of mine…before it was taken away.
I felt a surge of nerves when I looked at him, seeing a man I would have pursued across the bar on a late night. A night that would have ended in fireworks, followed by a morning masked in a dreary fog. I would never see him again, so I went for it.
I moved in and gave him an instant to react, a pause in case my advance wasn’t reciprocated.
But it was definitely reciprocated because he smiled.
A full-on smile, a sunrise to his twilight, an antidote to his seriousness.
I closed the distance to plant a quick and simple kiss on his lips, just a touch of our mouths, affectionate rather than sexy.
But his hand quickly cupped the back of my neck, and he turned a simmer to a boil the second the pot was on the stove.
I initiated the kiss, but he took over like a pirate that commandeered another’s ship.
He tilted my head back where he wanted it and felt my lips with his, searing my mouth with his mark, a kiss so hot that it sizzled with smoke.
He felt my bottom lip between his before he turned his head and kissed me again, this time with tongue, like I was his long-term lover rather than some woman he barely knew.
Like I was the love of his life, the wife he came home to, the woman he vowed to love forever.
I pulled away first, taken aback by the intensity and the way it affected me so deeply. I’d intended to kiss him, turn on my heel, and strut out of there, but I was frozen in place for a moment, locked in the dark eyes that reminded me of the fresh coffee I had every morning.
He smirked again slightly. “Thanks for the tip.”