Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
JO
The vault door swings shut behind me; the familiar click of the door closing echoes in the stillness.
I’m tired but satisfied; the last hours have been spent meticulously removing layers of grime from a delicate seventeenth-century canvas that my binder instructed me to work on next.
My eyes feel a little strained, and my hands are streaked with tiny flecks of dried varnish.
I stretch my shoulders, the stiffness easing as I walk down the corridor.
The house seems quieter than usual, the sun dipping low outside and casting long, golden slants of light across the polished floors.
I am enjoying the solitude. Although I have been alone all day in the vault, this is a different kind of alone.
The vault is like a whole other world, but this is just a peaceful interlude in a normally louder world.
All I can hear is the gentle sound of my own footsteps.
The air smells of the faint scent of flowers.
I am trying to work out what the scent is when I round the corner into the foyer and almost collide with someone.
“Careful,” a low, controlled voice says.
A masculine hand at the end of a thick wrist shoots out at the ready to stop me from teetering off balance, from coming to such an abrupt stop, but I manage to stay upright on my own.
Inside, I’m dying, but my eyes tilt upwards automatically, all the way up.
Of everyone who it could be, everyone I could have just almost plowed into, of course, it has to be Axel.
He is, of course, very calm and composed, but his lips twitch slightly with amusement.
Naturally, he looks as if he owns the space by his mere presence.
The light catches the strong line of his jaw, the dark sweep of hair falling over his forehead, and the faint warmth of his skin seems to radiate directly onto me.
For a heartbeat, my brain seizes, and I just stand there staring idiotically up at him.
Oh God, up this close, he even smells incredible, some sort of a gorgeously manly cologne that clings to him like an erotic aura.
My stomach flips. I blink and try to think my way out.
I’m not supposed to be flustered by him.
I hate men like him. He’s rude, arrogant and obnoxious.
And the fact that he looks like he could have walked straight out of a magazine spread isn’t going to change that.
He looks like a million dollars, while I am acutely aware of the grimy state of my appearance.
I don’t need to glance down at myself or look in a mirror to know that it’s not just my clothes that were unprotected by my work overalls.
Experience tells me that there will be varnish flecks and smudges in my hair, on my cheeks, and across my arms. Basically, I look a mess, and the insecure part of me worries that Axel is going to, what?
Sneer? Roll his eyes? That seems likely given our interaction so far.
But I tell myself firmly that I don’t care.
Axel can think what he wants about me. I’m Jo Button, and I’m here to do a job, not to impress anyone, least of all him.
I am vaguely aware that we have both been silent too long and it is becoming awkward, but I can’t think of a single thing to say. But when Axel finally breaks the silence, casual like he didn’t notice the awkwardness, he asks me something that makes me long for the awkward silence to come back.
“How’s the search for the father of your heir going?” he asks gravely.
I freeze, then, to my mortification, stinging heat floods from the region of my chest, up my throat, on towards my cheeks, and continuing up all the way to the roots of my hair.
My mind scrambles for a response. The truth is, I haven’t even thought about searching for someone to knock me up.
That wasn’t part of the plan. But, of course, I’m not going to admit that to him.
Partly because he might then call the whole thing off, and I am just getting started on those paintings, but also because who knows?
Fate is a funny thing. I might go to a bar tomorrow, and someone perfect for me might walk in.
So instead, I smile and try to appear casual, though I can tell I am still bright red.
“It’s all in hand,” I say, pleased that I managed to match his tone.
He studies me for a minute. I think that look means he doesn’t believe me for a second, not even a little bit.
“Really?” he asks, not bothering to hide his disbelief.
Rude man! “Yes, actually,” I reply, forcing a confident nod. “I have it completely under control.”
There is a dangerous glint in his green eyes, as if he sees right through me. “Consider me impressed.”
A strange warmth spreads through me, and my cheeks feel like they are on fire from embarrassment.
This interaction might be short and fleeting as all our contact is, but it is undeniably charged and feels different from our usual cold exchanges.
There’s a new teasing, almost playful edge to the tilt of his head and the faint lift of his brow.
I find myself caught up in it, wondering why a single statement from him could affect me in this way. It is completely absurd.
I gather my courage and decide to play him at his own game. “And you? How’s your search going?”
He smirks. “I have a couple of candidates I’m working on.”
I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms, and offering a sly grin. “You’d better narrow it down quickly. The clock’s ticking.”
He chuckles softly, a sound low and controlled, but undeniably amused. “Keep me informed on your progress, and I will do the same.”
He laughs. I made him laugh. I’m too shocked to answer, so I just nod.
He turns and walks away, each step filled with the powerful grace of a panther, leaving a trace of his scent behind. I can’t name the feeling that comes over me as I watch him walk away, but it settles in my chest like a cloud of warmth.
I stand there, staring into empty space for a few moments after he’s gone.
For the first time, I realize that we’ve had a conversation that didn’t feel clipped, cold, or hostile.
No rudeness, no cold commands directed at me.
It was human. Almost civil. I shake my head, exhaling slowly.
Don’t read too much into it, I tell myself.
It could be that Axel has decided to actually give me a chance before deciding he doesn’t like me.
It could be that he didn’t bother making the effort before because he was sure I would be a temporary fixture, and although that’s still true, a year can be a very long time if you don’t make friends with people who you live with. Maybe it’s none of those things.
Whatever it is, I just need to be cautious and remember that one civil moment doesn’t make Axel nice. One respectful conversation doesn’t erase all the other times he’s been brusque and impossibly arrogant. He’s not someone approachable, and I’ll be wise to remember it.
And yet my mind betrays me. It remembers the strong line of his jaw, the strength of those broad shoulders, the casual confidence in the way his hand shot out to catch me.
I imagine what it would feel like to be close to him, to understand the man beneath the steely green gaze and controlled exterior.
And then, I scold myself for it.
Have you completely lost your mind?
He’s exasperating, and he’s openly hostile. He’s shown me who he is, and he’s not someone to get caught up in. I can’t let him turn my world upside down with one or two polite sentences. I shake my head.
Focus, Jo. Focus.
Right. I need to jump into the shower, then order a pizza for dinner. I was told I can put in a request with the chef, but he’s usually gone for the night by the time I finish work, and I don’t like to impose by forcing him to wait around for me.
As I shampoo my hair, I tell myself firmly that a little courteous exchange doesn’t change anything.
Axel is still Axel, and if I don’t keep to my side of the bargain, he will be furious with me.
But somewhere beneath the layers of rational talk, there is a spark, and I feel it flicker, quietly, inexorably, beneath my control.
And I know, deep down, that no amount of reasoning will stop me from noticing him.
No matter how much I tell myself not to let him into my thoughts, Axel will always be there, somewhere on the edges of my mind, a presence impossible to ignore, a challenge I never asked for.
And a temptation I don’t think I am ready for.