16. Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
Lucy
The car was silent as Dax drove me through the city.
I wasn’t sure what to expect and found myself anxiously wondering what kind of place he called home.
I imagined it would be some kind of penthouse suite in a glitzy apartment, based on his taste in cars and the quiet glamour of Bellissima.
What I had not considered was the massive Victorian mansion in Pacific Heights that he pulled into the driveway of.
It was painted all black and towered over the other beautiful houses nearby.
The place had to be worth tens of millions .
As I was gawking out of the window, the garage door rolled up, and the space shuttle purred to a stop inside.
He turned off the engine, and we sat in stillness for a few minutes.
“Well”—Dax cleared his throat awkwardly—“this is it. Let’s get inside and I’ll show you your room.”
My room. I didn’t even have my own room in my apartment.
I was so used to sharing the small studio space with Tara that the idea of my own room sounded foreign.
Not to mention, this was the house of a man with some clearly dark history and tendencies.
A man who I somehow became entangled with all because I went on a really shitty date at the restaurant he owned.
The whole situation felt so alien to me, yet as I exited the car and followed Dax into the house, a strange sense of comfort and familiarity struck me.
We entered the house through the kitchen, which was four times the size of any other I’d seen in a San Francisco home.
Sleek onyx countertops and state-of-the-art appliances graced the intricately carved cabinets, and I could only imagine the kinds of gourmet delicacies Dax created in the expansive space.
He led me into a grand sitting room garnished with ornate carvings on the ceiling.
An opulent chandelier hung down the middle, luxurious deep leather furniture and velvet tapestries were arranged expertly around the space, and a wall of books spanned above a large, polished fireplace.
It felt like I had been transported into a place that only existed in storybooks.
The house was dark yet alluring. It whispered of wealth and elegance yet somehow felt inviting despite its grandiose. It was warmth and comfort with the sharp temptation of something mysterious and alluring. Like midnight’s embrace.
“It’s just up the stairs.” Dax looked over his shoulder at me.
Self-consciousness crept into my stomach, and I suddenly felt out of place.
His hoodie swallowed my figure, and the bright purple sweatpants stood out in the sumptuous room as though there was a spotlight on me.
I followed him up a wide staircase and we passed by a couple of rooms before he stopped to open a door in front of him.
“So, um…this is it.” He stepped ahead and swung my backpack off his shoulder before placing it on top of a beautifully stained wooden vanity table.
“There’s an en suite bathroom over there.
” He pointed toward a door on the other side of the room.
“I need to get in touch with my team and see what intel they can access from the street cameras near your apartment. I won’t be long but make yourself at home. ”
I gave him a small nod to let him know I was listening, but my mind was fuzzy as my heartrate was finally starting to slow to a normal speed.
He turned toward the door, then swiveled back around. “Lucy.” My eyes met his at the mention of my name. “I’m really glad you’re okay. I’m going to make sure you stay that way.” Threat laced the soft rasp of his voice.
“I know,” was all I could think to say before he left the room and closed the door behind him.
I stared at it for what felt like minutes before I finally stepped back to take in the room.
It was decorated similarly to the rest of the house with expensive-looking furniture and textiles.
A stately four-poster bed stood in the middle, laden with black silk and plush pillows.
Velvet gray and black damask patterns adorned the walls, and a glamorous armoire was stationed across from the bed.
The room had its own fireplace, a smaller version of the one I saw in the sitting room.
It looked like something designed for a Gothic princess, and here I was standing in these stupid fucking purple pants.
I grabbed my backpack and sat on the edge of the bed.
I felt cold and clammy underneath Dax’s sweatshirt, and I felt the sudden, desperate need to take a shower.
To cleanse myself of the violation of privacy that just exploded my world.
A sudden urge to dye my hair like Tara did every two weeks shot through my mind.
I didn’t want them to recognize me. I wanted to disguise myself from the world so they could never find me again.
I sat up and walked toward the bathroom on the other side of the room.
It was floor-to-ceiling white marble with gold accents. A spacious clawfoot bathtub beckoned me forward, a wooden tray was perched across the top with a candle and matches, an expensive-looking bottle of bubble bath, and a small vase of red peonies.
Did Dax always keep fresh flowers in the bathroom of his guest bedroom?
How often did he have guests in the first place?
It seemed like he spent all his time at the restaurant, so I found it hard to imagine him entertaining often.
A spike of jealousy pinched my sides as I considered who he might have entertained in this bathroom.
I brushed off the thought and reached toward the tub, turning the handle outward until a steamy stream of water started to fill it.
I went ahead and drizzled a generous squeeze of the bubble bath into it too.
I shed my clothes and tossed them onto the floor, pulling my hair into a knot above my head.
I took the box of matches and lit the candle, a sensual balm of sandalwood and vanilla mingling with the steam throughout the room.
I stepped into the tub and sank my way into its warmth.
I lay still for a moment, wanting the heat to reach every corner of my body to calm the shiver.
Foamy bubbles enveloped my chest and tickled my neck as I began to wave my hand softly underneath the water, causing the bubbles to stir across the top.
I was in Dax’s fucking bathtub. In his fucking house.
I took a deep breath in through my nostrils and out slowly through my mouth.
The candle’s aroma and the bath’s comfort was starting to relax my body despite the circumstances.
I tried closing my eyes, but the moment I did it was as though an instant replay of the past hour or so started blasting through my mind.
I decided to keep my eyes open, focused on the gentle golden light of the candle in front of me.
He came to me instantly and knew exactly what to do.
I was probably in some kind of shock because shouldn’t I have been freaked out by how fast he got to the apartment? The fact he had a gun on him when he did? He said he had multiple guns…
I could have been kidnapped, killed, or worse.
He had an entire team of people at his disposal to check cameras and track people down. Who was that guy in my apartment lobby?
He kept me safe, just like he promised he would.
I reached for a small towel folded neatly from a stack on a wooden cart next to the tub.
I soaked the towel and ran it over my arms and legs as I battled myself internally.
I scrubbed every corner of my body until I felt like I had finally blurred the lens of the camera and the person holding it.
Like their gaze had left a dirty film across my skin and I was washing it away in layers.
I stayed underneath the water until it started to cool down and my fingers were wrinkled.
When I finally lifted myself out, I wrapped myself in the softest towel I had ever felt, tiny droplets of water skidding to the floor from my legs.
A knock sounded from the door in the bedroom. Shit, how long was I in here for?
“Lucy?” Dax’s muffled voice sounded as I padded my way across the floor, leaving a trail of wet footprints in my wake.
“Yeah?” I called back to him when I reached the bed, sitting on the edge to find something to wear from my backpack.
I grimaced as I sorted through the clothes I had hurriedly stuffed into the bag as I fled the apartment.
A silky black camisole, a crumpled T-shirt, my old jeans, and a ton of socks and underwear.
I sighed under my breath. I was an exhausted, emotional wreck and choosing something to wear somehow seemed like a strenuous task.
“Can I come in?” Dax asked.
“Sure,” I replied distractedly, palming through the clothes. The sound of the door creaking jolted me back to my senses, and I suddenly realized I was only in a towel. “Shit—I mean hold on a second!”
It was too late. Dax’s broad frame already stepped into the room, and I watched him visibly tense as his icy gaze locked onto me. My blood turned molten as his eyes swept down my body, and he cleared his throat before jerking his stare away from me and focusing on some invisible spot on the wall.
“I, um…” He paused. “I just wanted to ask if you’re hungry. I was going to make something to eat and I…” His sentence fell off as he glanced at me again. The brief moment of eye contact sent heat pooling through my stomach.
He saved me. And he was so fucking hot. He had taken off his leather jacket and was now in a clean black shirt with jeans hanging low against the V of his hips.
I couldn’t tell if it was the adrenaline still pulsing through me, or the fact that he looked like a man who had been stranded in a desert for days, and I was a crisp glass of water sitting feet away from him.
All I know is I felt myself sliding from the edge of the bed in a trance, and the movement sent his eyes back to mine.