Wishing Well(21)
The words stung, a barb settled deeply in her heart as easily as a warm knife slicing through butter. Swallowing down the knot this man so frequently conjured in her throat, she took a breath, willing her pulse to slow down, her muscles to loosen. “I didn’t know Blake had left her. I wasn’t made aware that Penny was on the streets. As far as I knew-“
“You were happy in the new life you’d created in a foreign country,” Vincent said, interrupting her train of thought. “Why threaten that happiness with despair?”
Pausing, he let the words linger, gave her a few quiet moments to gather her composure. “I agree we should discuss what happened that following morning because it’s the point where the story becomes more interesting, more unsettling, more divine. Penelope had one night of safety, one night to sleep, and eat, and believe she wasn’t being chased through a maze of my design. But when the sun rose the next morning, all semblance of peace was lost to my cravings. The game I set in place had begun.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Vincent
By seven the next morning, I was sitting behind the large, dark cherry wood desk that took up a sizeable portion of my office. A fire blazed, gently licking at the air in the fireplace with a hand carved oak mantel. Through the windows behind me, the gardens were in full view, the winter blooming flowers still holding court while those that regained life in spring were just budding, their bright green leaves tasting the warmth of the sun-drenched winds, testing and learning whether they could burst forth into full view.
The branch of a small tree tapped against my window with every soft breeze that blew past, classical music lightly playing over my speakers to add a sense of calm and wonder to my morning. And while I was bent over paperwork, scratching my signature onto several pages, I waited for the appearance of a beautiful girl through my door.
The knock came at five after eight, the morning becoming more intriguing when I called for her to come in. Lifting my eyes without straightening in my seat, I bit my lip to keep from complimenting her state of dress.
“I see you received my note,” I casually commented, my pen still working ink over the last of my papers.
She took a seat in one of the leather chairs facing my desk, her demeanor quiet and unsure. “Yep. I met with Theresa after I woke up and she gave me the uniform I’m supposed to wear. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” she admitted, shy laughter teasing her voice.
The shapeless frock didn’t do much to show off her figure, but I still knew what could be discovered, still craved what was hidden beneath the grey material and white apron that had bunched around her knees when she sat down.
Leaning back in my chair, I toyed the pen through my fingers, watching her with cryptic eyes. “I guess this means you chose to work in housekeeping?”
More soft laughter shook her thin shoulders. “You guess right. Theresa showed me the other costumes used in the lounge, and even though she told me I would make more money working there, I couldn’t imagine myself wearing any them. Not in public.”
In private, perhaps?
The pen dropped to the surface of my desk. “I’m glad we found something that worked for you. Housekeeping isn’t the easiest of occupations, but it will keep you busy.”
As will I...
“When does your first shift start?” I asked, wanting to ensure Theresa had followed my instructions and kept Penelope available to me in the morning.
“At noon. I don’t need to be in uniform already, but my only other choice in clothing was what you bought me last night. My outfit is still in laundry. I have nothing else to wear.”
Cocking a curious brow, I asked, “You have no other clothes besides what you were wearing last night in the rain?”
Shaking her head, her eyes glanced out the windows at my back. “No. I had a bag of clothes when I became homeless, but it was stolen the first night I fell asleep. I guess that’s why I saw other homeless people sleeping practically on top of their stuff. Lesson learned.”
Tsking my tongue, I flipped the corner of one page with my finger. “That won’t do. I can give you some money.”
Her eyes darted to mine. “I already owe you too much.”
“I have it to give, and I don’t mind. You can use it on whatever you need. I’m sure it will stretch further at a store outside of the hotel, the boutique is quite expensive.”
“I saw that,” she admitted. “While I was hiding behind the rack, I peeked at a few of the price tags. What you spent on the dress, underwear and shoes would have paid a month of rent at my old place. Thank you, by the way. I’m not sure I said that last night.”
An errant breeze bustled through an open window, the cool air lifting the papers on my desk until I was forced to slap my palm down on them to keep them from flying away. Penelope laughed.
“A paperweight would help to keep that from happening.”
My gaze lifted to hers, noting the easy smile she wore. “I don’t happen to have one at the moment.”
“Anything heavy would do,” she suggested.
Even your ass? While I take the time to spread your legs and explore every nook and cranny?
“Or I could just close the window,” I mentioned, standing from my seat to do so, while taking a breath to keep the heat of my excitement from coloring my face. It irked me to realize how husky my voice had been.