Chapter 14
ALICE
As days go, I’ve had better. It’s hard to believe I could have had a worse one, but living with Morgan tops this one. I would suffer this as my Groundhog Day as long as that woman wasn’t in it, and with a sigh, I turn my attention to the mess I’m in right now.
When faced with my situation, I could cry, but when faced with my, um, face, I do cry.
Tears of disbelief merge with the purple bruises on my skin, and I reach up and gingerly touch the swelling that man’s fist gifted me.
I’m a mess, inside and out, and I can’t believe how much damage he inflicted with just a few blows. If anything, I’m angry that he died a quick death because men who do this to a woman deserve a long, slow death or life imprisonment.
Then there is the man outside—and I use that term loosely because quite frankly he could be a god from Mount Olympus itself. I have never seen such a fine specimen of male brilliance, and if I wasn’t so angry, I would be dazzled by him.
He is probably the finest example of a man I have ever seen, and yet his personality is way down in the trash. The one that is festering at the bottom of the can—the worst kind, and I amuse myself with images of him as a dirty heap of stinking, festering trash.
Then again, he did rescue me, comfort me and offer me kindness, but I push that away and concentrate on hating him instead. He is telling me what to do and I naturally rebel against that, and so with a sigh, I use the toilet before turning on the shower.
Despite everything, the day I had and my predicament now, nothing can dull the pleasure this simple act brings. I can’t remember when I had one as hot as this. The shower at the convent was a shared one and usually cold by the time it was my turn.
The scalding water pours over my head, and I use the complimentary shampoo and conditioner to cleanse away the trauma of the day.
To wash that man out of my hair. Never was a song title so apt because, against all of my wishes, I can’t stop thinking about him.
Stefan who? I can no longer even remember what he looked like because that man has eclipsed every other man in the world.
He is a mirage, a freaking god, and I’m ashamed to admit I am having inappropriate thoughts about him.
My body is relaxed, clean and invigorated, and my soul appears to be the opposite courtesy of one man.
He is sliding through it like a potion designed to tempt me from the path I was set on.
His strong jaw and the angry way he glared at me was a serious turn-on that raises doubts about my sanity.
I should desire an angel, not a demon, and I am only one day out from the convent and spiraling into hell.
I witnessed a massacre today.
That should be all I can think about right now. Men died today because of me. Do I care? It appears that I don’t.
I should be kneeling on the marble floor and praying for their souls, but I am delighting in their demise as if it were a personal gift to make me happy. I am screwed, a despicable creature who should be ashamed of herself, and this beating I took was well deserved because I have no regrets.
With a sigh, I shut off the flow of water and step into a warm towel from the heated towel rail. Already feeling a thousand times better as I gaze critically into the mirror.
I’m a mess. A hot mess even and yet despite my circumstances, I can’t wipe the smile from my face. I am living—this is living on speed, and I never expected life could be so dramatic.
I’m on the cusp of a brave new world, and will face it head-on and I intend on using the man outside to help me.
I’ll agree to his conditions knowing that once my grandfather learns of my existence, he will come for me.
We will search for my mom together, and he will care for us both.
That is my future and I can’t wait and when the dust settles and the year of freedom is under question, I will be reunited with my sisters, and we will make a new life together.
It doesn’t even cross my mind that they will return to the Order of the Holy Mother of God. We belong together and deep in my heart I know their decision before they do.
The shower has cleansed my spirit as well as my body, and as I reach for the robe hanging on the back of the door, I bemoan the fact my suitcase never made it here with me.
I only have the sundress I was wearing and the sandals, and I should probably address that.
Perhaps my planning wasn’t foolproof after all, and I should really pick up a few supplies using the money Sister Agatha gave me.
Yes, shopping would help. I’ve never had the pleasure of choosing my own outfit. Even the dress was on loan from the convent donation store, which I sure could use access to right now.
Luckily, there is a complimentary toothbrush and paste, and it’s such a luxury to clean my teeth. It’s as if I’m a new woman as I towel-dry my hair before lifting the hairdryer mounted on a holder on the wall.
When I finally emerge, it’s with renewed vigor and my heart somersaults when I notice the man sitting on the bed checking his phone.
He has taken off his jacket and the corded muscles in his arms ripple as he grips the phone; the tattoos decorating them causing me to swallow hard.
How is such a demon so irresistibly attractive?
I mean, God obviously gave him too much in the looks department and skipped on his personality.
He glances up and I falter at the intensity of his gaze, those dark eyes brimming with power, something I’ve never really witnessed before.
“That must feel better.”
His brief nod as he returns his gaze to the phone is dismissive, and I’m guessing that’s easy for him. He is probably used to supermodels trailing after him, and I hate how inferior he makes me feel.
“It does, but I have a request.”
He glances up and raises his eyes, and my words trip over themselves in haste.
“I must hit the shops. I don’t have anything suitable to wear and so if you don’t mind, I’ll slip out for a while and grab some supplies.”
“I do mind.” His abrupt response causes my fists to curl as they hang beside me.
“Then that’s a shame for you because I’m going, anyway.”
He sighs before setting his phone on the bed, and only a knock on the door saves me from a verbal lashing that was evidently coming my way.
“Room service.”
He fixes me with a dark glare before heading to the door, and we are silent as a waiter wheels in a trolley absolutely laden with food.
I’m speechless as I gaze at the array of dishes that takes up three shelves on the groaning trolley.
My companion tips the waiter, and I stare in astonishment at the huge bundle of bills that has certainly made the waiter’s day.
His smile is so huge it spans the room and as he heads out of the door, bowing respectfully, I shake my head, annoyed at how easily this man operates.
“What’s the matter with you?”
His glare could cut stone, and I sneer, “You. I hate how arrogant you are.”
“Arrogant.”
He shrugs. “I’ll take that because arrogance is probably my middle name, but hate, that’s a little dramatic, especially coming from a nun.”
“I’m not a nun, not yet anyway. I’m a novice; there’s a difference.”
“A novice.” He raises his brow and I swear I melt inside at the dark gaze he delivers my way.
“I’m guessing you’re a novice at life too.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“I know you walk with a stick up your ass.”
“How dare you!”
I’m furious and yet as he lifts the dome set on one of the dishes, everything is forgotten as I gaze in delight on food fit for a king.
“Come. We can eat while you tell me how despicable I am.”
His amused grin almost makes me smile, but then I remember what he is and frown.
“I’ll eat with you to survive and for no other reason.”
I don’t know why I am declaring a reason for accepting his generosity, and his low chuckle merely inflames my anger.
It’s probably best if I shut the fuck up, and so I stomp to the trolley and grab a plate, diverting my attention to filling it with the most mouth-watering food.
I take it to a convenient table set by the window and as I gaze out on the city, it strikes me how alone I am right now.
“What are you thinking?”
He takes his seat opposite and begins to attack his plate, and I sigh, gazing at him with less bravado.
“I feel lonely if I’m honest.”
He says nothing.
“I’m used to being with other people, mainly my sisters, and after the day I’ve had, I would welcome their company.”
“It must be hard for you.”
I steal a glance at the man who confuses the hell out of me.
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Simeon Ravera.” He adds as if I know what the fuck that name involves, but I can kind of guess. He’s obviously a criminal. A man who commands and controls and that shouldn’t, but it fascinates me.
“Why are you here?”
I decide to find out more about him, wondering if I am judging him too harshly.
He fixes me with a dark frown and sighs. “I am here to escort you to New York safely. To help you with your problem and to keep the vermin away.”
“The vermin?”
“Men like Liam Dettori, who you met earlier. There are probably a thousand more like him with you in their sights and you may not like this sweetheart, but I am one of them.”
Dread curls around my soul like a creeper as I whisper, “So I’m in danger from you?”
“Of course.”
He makes no attempt to sugarcoat this, and my mouth dries as I face the fact I’ve stepped from the skillet into the fire.
“What do you want from me?”
I’m nervous to ask the question, and he shrugs. “I don’t want anything; I never did, but my father has other plans.”
“Your father?”
He nods, spearing his food as if he isn’t destroying my life right now.
“Yes, my father learned of your inheritance and decided it would be better in our family’s hands, so wake-up call angel, we are in the honeymoon suite as a touch of irony because we are getting married, you’re welcome.”
“Are you insane?”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing right now, and he shrugs.
“Of course I’m insane. Do you really believe this life doesn’t require insanity as standard?
I am merely a tool my father uses to build his empire, so no matter how much I hate the idea, I am stuck with you as my wife whether I like it or not. ”
“Wow, tone down the romance.”
I raise my eyes and he surprises me when a huge smile breaks out across his face. I am speechless as I stare at the transformation because if I thought he was handsome in a surly, belligerent way, this man before me is perfection personified.
I snap back to reality and hiss, “I won’t marry you even if you ask me nicely on bended knee with violins and flowers.”
“You don’t have a choice; we don’t have one so it’s probably best if you accept the situation and learn the terms and conditions of our arrangement.”
“What terms and conditions?”
I almost expect him to produce a freaking contract and a few witnesses to pop in from the corridor outside.
He shrugs, seemingly unconcerned that he is ruining my life.
“We marry as soon as we obtain a license. You come back to New York and live with me while we try to get you pregnant.”
“Stop right there!” I hold up my hand. “Who says I want a baby?”
“Every woman wants a baby.”
“I’m not every woman.” I snap and he lifts his eyes.
“That’s the first thing you’ve said that I agree with.”
“Asshole.” I snap, drumming my fingers angrily on the table.
“I won’t, um, make a baby with you.”
Even thinking the words causes a hot flush inside me, but saying them out loud causes an inferno, just imagining what that would involve.
“Get used to the idea because it’s the fastest way out of this mess, and then I’ll leave you alone to continue your life.”
“But I want to marry for love—if I decide to stay. I might return to the convent when the year is up. I haven’t decided yet.”
“Then marry for love the second time around.”
He shrugs, seemingly unconcerned about my feelings on this matter.
“The faster we’re successful, the earlier you can leave.”
“And if I say no?” My glare could wither a cactus, and he shakes his head. “No isn’t a word I accept. Face it, angel, you are about to be hitched to a demon to survive, and as I keep saying, you’re welcome.”
He points to the food on my plate. “Eat up. Has anyone ever told you it’s a sin to waste food?”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a bastard?” I fire back, causing him to smirk.
“Such a foul mouth from a nun. What would Sister Agatha say if she could hear you now?”
“She can’t, so I’ll say what I like and you are a freaking bastard, asshole, arrogant shit and there is no way in hell I’m marrying a man like you.”
He actually laughs out loud.
“You amuse me, Alice. Congratulations. You are the first woman to do so.”
“Are you clinically insane?”
I stare at him in horror, wondering if he is. Surely there’s a sacrifice in creating such beauty. That must be the case because I’m hovering on the abyss of insanity myself right now and that can be the only explanation.
“Listen, sweetheart.”
“I’m not your sweetheart.”
My voice is delivered on a razor and he grins.
“No, you’re not and probably never will be. I’ll have a mistress for that, probably several in fact.”
“In your dreams.”
I scoff, and yet even I realize how stupid my words sound. Of course he’ll have a mistress, several in a harem perhaps that he sets up somewhere in the suburbs.
“I hope you do because if the worst happens and I do end up marrying you, I would welcome any occasion that takes you away from me.”
“Touché.”
“You speak French now?”
I raise my brow this time, mocking him because I’m guessing that unlike me, who speaks several languages, he probably can’t string a coherent sentence together in any of them.
“I don’t need to speak French. English is enough.”
“Which proves what an asshole you really are.”
“In your opinion.”
“Probably in everyone’s opinion, but they’re so scared of you they don’t call you out in front of your face but behind your back I’m guessing the knives are out.”
“You know me so well already, angel. We will be very happy together.”
I fall silent because I hate how this conversation is going.
I turn my attention to the food and after I finish, I state simply. “Shopping. I’m going to get my supplies.”
“If you insist.”
He jerks his head toward the bathroom. “Go and change; I’ll arrange for my car to be waiting at the door.”
“I can walk. It’s a city.” I snap as I head toward the bathroom, and as I slam the door behind me, I lean back on it and attempt to still my beating heart.
Fuck. Why aren’t I more horrified at the prospect of marrying Simeon Ravera? There are worse things than being attached to a human god, I suppose, and I may be able to work on his personality.
With a deep groan, I push off the door because there is no way on this planet I will ever agree to be his wife.