- Good morning.
He says it slowly, with a small smile on his lips.
- Good morning.
- Did you sleep well?
I nod.
- Yes. I didn’t have any nightmares. – I reply, smiling.
- That’s good. I’m glad I can help you sleep better.
I reply with a silly smile. Our morning moment is interrupted by a ringing cell phone. He sighs and gets up, heading to the table. He answers the call abruptly, but my brain shuts down because my eyes are focused on something else. I’m glued to the massive bulge pressing against his black pants. He has an erection! I try to look away, but I can’t. He keeps talking, unaware that I’m staring at him, but when he looks at me while still speaking, he follows my stare and suddenly clears his throat, snapping me out of my trance. He smiles and speaks at the same time, heading to the bathroom. As for me, I jump out of bed, bright red, and flee to my room.
I walk quickly, feeling my nightgown fluttering down the hallway. I slam the door shut, leaning against it to try to calm myself down. I realize I haven’t fully recovered yet due to the sudden dizziness that makes my head spin. When I pull myself together, I realize the best thing to do is take a bath with warm, almost cold water, so my body can cool down; I feel like I’m on fire!
With the towel wrapped around my body, I go through my wardrobe. I’m confused about what to wear because, after all, what on earth do you wear when you’re on your boss’s property, enjoying everything that belongs to him—except him? Daydreaming, Blair, pull yourself together! I keep walking around when I hear three knocks on the door and my heart feels like it’s going to explode. Shit! I really have to get dressed. I go back to the bedroom just to ask for a minute when I notice a note on the floor.
“Breakfast is ready. You can come down whenever you’re ready. I’m waiting for you.”
A small smile forms on my lips. I know I should brush this off, but I’ve never been treated this way before. My previous boyfriends were always much more… self-centered? And they’d rather spend time with their friends than with their girlfriend. I thought that was normal for all men. Turns out I was wrong. But this is a man of sin—maybe that’s why I like him so much.
I sigh and turn my back to the door. Something simple and neutral is best; I put on some gray panties and a bra, all lace—despite their delicacy and how much I love them, I don’t know what this man has with this type of fabric. At least in that we share the same taste.
Between jeans and black leggings, I go with the second option. I put on a basic light gray sweater, some knee-high socks, and I’m ready. No shoes, for now. I fix my hair as best I can. In the mirror, I keep seeing the marks on my neck and the small scar on my cheek. My body shudders; I don’t want to relive what happened, I want to forget it; but will I be strong enough to tell the police everything that happened? What happened, how did it start? I push those thoughts aside—they’re making my anxiety flare up.
I seem ready, and I start heading toward the stairs, taking in the view of the vineyards in the hallway. My nervousness grows as I walk down the staircase and the room comes into view: wood-toned beige walls and dark varnished wood floors, a U-shaped sofa in the same shade as the walls, and a huge wall-mounted TV. When I step down the last stair, I’m in the spacious kitchen with dark varnished wood cabinets and an island in the center, topped with black marble. A combination of bright colors, which complements the view of the vineyards and the horizon. I can’t say a word, such is the beauty, and for a moment, I don’t even remember my nervousness, or Leonard.
- Do you like what you see?
I startle and look toward the opposite side of the room. There’s a rectangular table, also made of dark wood, set with two plates; an assortment of fruits, coffee and juices, bread, butter, jams. And a delightful man dressed casually in dark jeans and a black sweater. His arms are crossed, and he’s leaning casually against the center chair. I realize that, after seeing him, my hunger has turned into something else.
- I love it. – I swallow hard and break eye contact with him, looking out the window. I hope he didn’t notice that I don’t just love his beautiful home. – It’s a little paradise you have here.
- Yes, I come here often to take a break from work. Come eat.
I head toward the table. He pulls out my chair, like a gentleman. Suddenly I feel too self-conscious and like a burden.
- Leonard, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I don’t want to be a bother and… - I look at my empty plate, too embarrassed. – As you well know, I don’t have enough money to pay you back for everything you’ve… provided for me. It’s better if I go home and…
- Don’t even think about being alone for a single second without me.
Our eyes meet and my heart skips a beat.
- No… it isn’t necessary to go this far. I…
- You were attacked by a disgusting son of a bitch who worked for me, in my building, in my office. – His nostrils flare and his hands clench into fists. – He touched you, he touched you too much, and if it’s up to me, that was the last time he touched you.
My eyes burn. I don’t want to talk about it; I feel dirty, too dirty. I can still feel those hands on me. I shut my eyes tight to suppress those memories. But I also feel a strong, warm hand on mine.
I shudder.
- Blair, look at me. Open your eyes. You’re safe here. Until everything is properly resolved, you’ll stay here, by my side. You don’t have to worry about your job; I’ll keep paying you…
Hearing that, I feel annoyed and angry. I don’t want him to do this out of pity for me or because he’s afraid I’ll sue the company.
-I don’t need your pity, and you don’t need to worry that I’ll make a scene or sue the company—I’m not that kind of woman; I know how to distinguish things clearly.
- But what…
I get ready to get up from the table to go pack my bags immediately, or to take what is truly mine; but he’s faster.
He stands up too and pulls me toward him. I bump into his strong, defined chest and breathe in. He places his hand on my back, not letting me move. I look up; his gaze is already fixed on me. He looks upset.
- Never think I’m doing this out of pity, Blair. I’m not a man who feels pity for anyone, in case you haven’t noticed. I don't even know why I brought you here, but…—he runs a hand over my face, lightly brushing his thumb beneath my lips, which open slightly.—But one thing I do know: I want you close to me. I want to be the one taking care of you. No one else. And no one else will take care of you.
I almost melt. His demanding tone, his warm skin, his firmness. His eyes. I don’t know what to do. I’m not strong enough to keep from falling at his feet.
- No… you don’t have to.
He pulls me closer to him.
- But I want to.
I’m speechless. The tension between us is palpable. This man is known as the “Heartbreaker”—what does he want from me?
His look falls on my lips and returns to my eyes. My heart is racing too fast.
- Do you trust me, Blair?
My brain is in a state of shock. Will I trust him? I don’t know. But I’m not afraid of him, nor of his touch; on the contrary, I want him to touch me.
I nod my head in affirmation, and for him, that was enough. Slowly, he draws closer to me, feeling his cool breath on my lips. His hand moves from my face to my neck, and my arms fly up until they rest on his broad shoulders and my hands wrap around the back of his neck. I stand on tiptoe; my whole body wants to feel contact—his contact. I want his lips on mine. I close my eyes slowly as we’re just millimeters apart.
And out of nowhere, the front door opens.
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