Page 41 of Bitten By the Basilisk

Her body couldn’t decide whether it was hot or cold as anger and fear poured through her. Her hands shook. Her heart raced. The only thing that kept her from cursing loudly was the possibility that Silas would hear.

In an effort to calm herself, she took numerous screenshots of the messages her manager and coworker had sent to her. Later, once she’d completed the revisions and bought more time to think, she would figure out how to deal with Paul’s audacity. She then deleted her draft message to him and composed something new.

As a favor to an important client, I’ll complete the revisions by the deadline you’ve given me. However, going forward, I expect to have my personal time respected.

Once the text was sent, she temporarily blocked her boss’s cell number and switched to her mom’s messages. Numerous emojis were sandwiched in between each frantic sentence.

Who’s this mysterious new friend???

How in the world did you meet them in the time since I left you???

I must know now, I can’t wait until lunch!!!

Her mom’s excitement was as unsurprising as it was cute. But as much as Alice wanted to tell someone how amazing her night had been, minus the dirty details, she also knew how her mom would react were she completely honest.

Something like… You went home with THE Basilisk of Indigo Cove??? And he’s so smitten that he convinced you to see him again???

Oh, sweetie, who CARES if pursuing something serious would mean giving up the career opportunity you’ve spent years building toward just to be with someone who isn’t the One and could break your heart at any time???

While Alice thought about how to reply, she tiptoed out of the bathroom to peek at the bed. Silas had turned to lie on his stomach but still seemed to be asleep. She allowed herself a brief moment to admire his perfectly sculpted shoulders, hardly believing he had been hers for a few hours and would continue to be hers for a scant few more.

Alas, when she tapped into her ability, she saw only a few minor magical auras around the room. No red thread.

Chastising herself for daring to be disappointed, she headed toward the kitchen to see about making a pot of coffee. On the way there, she admired the decor and unabashedly poked her head into any other rooms she passed.

One contained exercise equipment, including a heavily battered punching bag. Another room was furnished with a pool table, a velvet couch, two high-backed leather chairs bracketing a small table, and a wall of built-in shelves packed with books. A third door led to a smaller bathroom that was still twice as large as the one in her Chicago apartment.

The desk in his office looked heavy, as did the large filing cabinet against the left wall. Except for a pair of monitors and a full pen holder, the surface of his desk was bare and free of dust. More abstract gold decor hung on the right wall.

She continued to the kitchen, only to be drawn to the other side of the dining area with its expansive view of Indigo Cove and the water beyond, dotted with small boats. She allowed herself a moment to admire the scene, especially the fall foliage tucked between the various buildings, wishing she had a blank canvas standing next to her, a brush in hand, and a palette tucked into her arm.

“Alas,” she murmured aloud, an ache in her chest.

A double-sided fireplace acted as a partition between the kitchen and dining area and the living room, where a U-shaped, cobalt-blue fabric sectional faced a dark TV screen inside a built-in media cabinet. She spied another door near the back of the apartment, but decided not to sate her curiosity.

Thankfully, Silas had a regular coffee maker in addition to an espresso machine, which she doubted she could operate. After a few minutes of searching, she found filters and ground coffee, prepared a full pot, and successfully started a brewing cycle.

While she waited for it to finish, she sat in the same barstool where Silas had very recently fucked her—noting with mild embarrassment that the floor beneath smelled faintly of cleaning solution—and typed out a response to her mom’s texts.

The story will be better in person, she wrote, followed by a shush emoji. Anyway, I’ll be stopping by the apartment sometime in the next hour to change and grab a little more sleep.

Only instead of sleeping, I’ll be doing work, she tacked on in her mind. She didn’t dare write that to her mom, though. Grace would be highly disapproving.

Will you be meeting me there before we head out to lunch? she then added to her message before hitting send. The icon beneath the text told her it was received, but not seen. Alice assumed her mom was currently focused at her rehearsal and would reply later.

While she waited for the coffee to finish brewing, she searched for an appropriate mug and splashed some cold milk into the bottom. Once the maker beeped to signal it was done, she poured in coffee until it was the color she liked.

She then sat at the island again, sipping her coffee—the flavor was fantastic, of course—and wondered if Silas would wake before she finished her cup or if she’d have to crawl back into his massive bed to rouse him and request a ride home.

As appealing as the idea was of kissing her way across his shoulder, up his neck, to his ear, and whispering good morning, the likelihood that he might not let her leave his bed until she was naked and sweaty seemed high. Perhaps she should toss pillows at him from a safe distance?

She had just swallowed another gulp of coffee when a faint, low hum emerged from the direction of the hall. At first, she thought it might be the hot air cycling on, before a soft clunk and a well-greased metallic roll told her that the elevator at his front door was opening. Her stomach clenched, her pulse spiking.

Someone was entering Silas’s apartment.

“Boss must still be asleep,” came a deep, smooth voice. “Do you want the honor of waking him, or should I?”

“You do it. I’ll put these away and get some coffee going.” The second voice was a touch deeper and rougher.