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“And this room?” she says, stepping in as I flick on the lights, dimming them.
“This is my bedroom.”
She looks at me, then gingerly steps into the room.
I kept the original hardwood floors; my California king bed doesn’t even look that massive compared to the size of the room. There’s a real woodburning fireplace on one end and a bay window with a seat that stretches all the way along one wall. The room is dark but warm, with a large en suite off to one side and his and her walk-in closets on the other. I’ve opted for very minimal décor—a set of two large chairs near the fireplace, the bed, and two nightstands.
“So what made you buy this place?” She walks along the bed, turning and taking a seat on it. “The first time I came here I was completely shocked. I thought for sure you’d live in one of those cold, sterile high-rises far above all of us peasants down here.”
“I just put in an offer. It was a private sale. I had gotten wind the original family was looking to sell it and I took one look at it and just knew. And no, the thought of living in a high-rise surrounded by thousands of other people is the exact opposite of the peace and tranquility I crave. Here it’s just me and like you said, my solitude.” I walk over to where she’s seated on the edge of my bed; it dwarfs her petite frame. “Something about this house called to me, just like something in you called to me.” I reach down and run the back of my fingers along her cheek.
“Does it ever get lonely?”
“You are so incredibly beautiful.” I almost whisper the words, ignoring her question. The reality is, it does get lonely here, incredibly so. But the real loneliness I feel is constant, no matter where I’m living. It’s a loneliness that’s begun to gnaw at me since she has come into my life, her presence highlighting just what I’m missing, making it appear that much more intense whenever she isn’t around.
The soft glow of the lights make her eyes sparkle. There’s something happening between us. Something is changing. I want to tell her that. I want to ask her if she feels it too, but the second I part my lips to make mention of it, her eyes dart away and she stands up to walk away from me.
“Should we continue the tour?”
I stand frozen for a moment, my heart sinking at the realization that she doesn’t feel it, that this is exactly what she said it was, a sexual arrangement. I swallow down my emotions and plaster on a smile before turning around to face her.
“Of course, I have to show you the billiards room and the library yet.”
“Billiards room? You’re living in a game of Clue. It was Professor Plum with the wrench in the billiards room.” She laughs and almost skips down the hallway, no idea that my heart feels like it’s having the life squeezed out of it.
Chapter 20
Presley
Cyrus’ lips caress mine passionately, his hands holding my head still as he presses his hips against me. This kiss feels different, like an extension of the way he was looking at me in his bedroom earlier.
“The car is ready, sir,” Wes says after clearing his throat slightly.
Cyrus breaks the kiss, releasing my face and stepping back. “I’m sorry I can’t take you home this evening,” he says, leaning in to kiss the tip of my nose. “I can’t miss this call with Tokyo.”
“It’s okay.” I smile. “Thanks again for the dinner and the tour of the house.”
“Of course.” He stares at me for a few more seconds, like he wants to say something, but then he turns and takes my coat from Wes, sliding it up my arms.
“Are you excited for the workshops with the Chicago Youth in Leadership group this week?”
“I am.” He zips my coat and this all feels so intimate. He’s helped me several times now to remove and put on my coat, opened car doors for me, held out chairs, but this weirdly feels like he’s taking care of me.
“Grant, Lisa’s photographer, will be there. I thought it would be nice to get some candid photos for the community portion of your company website as well as the organization’s website.”
“Sounds like a good plan.” He looks over at Wes as if to say she’s ready to leave. “Have a good night, Presley.” He squeezes my hand, then turns to walk up the stairs toward his home office.
“Miss James.” Wes smiles at me and I follow him out through the garage to the waiting car.
I stare out the window of the back seat, the city glowing with lights as groups of people rush from the warmth of their cars to inside buildings. I spot a couple, walking hand in hand, seemingly oblivious to the bitter chill in the air. They smile at each other, then the man stops abruptly on the sidewalk, the woman being pulled back into his arms for a kiss. He dips her, making her laugh as she throws her arms around his neck.
Tears prick my eyes and my chest burns from the emotions I’m choking back. I close my eyes, the image of Cyrus’ expression from earlier playing over and over in my mind. The way he looked at me, the way he touched me. I had hoped to end up in his bed tonight, but he wanted me to rest, to not be too sore. A stark contrast to his words and threats from only days ago about using my body, pushing my boundaries. It feels like there are two men living inside him and they both have me confused. One minute he’s rough and demanding, then tonight, he’s gentle, more concerned about my needs than his.
I had hoped to get him to open up to me about his father but just asking him about his family changed his mood in an instant. I could see the unease in his eyes and I didn’t want to push the topic. There’s so much more to Cyrus Gates than I ever realized and I can feel myself falling for him. The way he looked at me in his bedroom had me convinced in that instant that he feels it too, that he wants more but he’s too scared to say it. But almost as quickly as that thought entered my head, Serenity’s warnings about him came rushing back when I had told her I thought he was flirting with me.
“It’s in his nature; a man like him can’t help it, probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.”
A single tear tumbles down my cheek as the car slows in front of my building.
