I scrubbed until my skin was raw.Washed my hair twice.Stayed under the spray until the water ran cold and I was shivering, teeth chattering, finally feeling something other than the ache in my chest.
By the time I emerged, wrapped in a towel that smelled like the manor’s expensive detergent and nothing like him, I’d made my decision.
He wanted a possession?Fine.That’s what he’d get.A body that responded when he touched it.A cunt that got wet when he walked into the room.His words, not mine.
I’d give him exactly what the contract demanded.Not one ounce more.
My heart was mine.It would stay mine.And if some treacherous part of me had started to feel something real for him tonight, I would cut it out and bury it so deep he’d never find it.
I climbed into bed, pulled the covers up to my chin, and stared at the ceiling until exhaustion finally dragged me under.
I dreamed of wolves.Of being chased through dark woods by something I couldn’t see.Of running until my lungs burned and my legs gave out, only to turn and find him standing there, not chasing at all.
Just watching.Just waiting.
Like he knew I’d come back to him eventually, no matter how fast I ran.
I woke with the taste of him still on my tongue and hated myself for it.
Morning light filtered through the heavy drapes, turning the room gray and cold.I forced myself out of bed, forced myself through the motions of showering and dressing.A shield, I reminded myself as I pulled on a professional blouse and wool trousers.This was a shield.
The manor was quiet as I made my way downstairs.His scent lingered in the hallways, and my traitorous body responded before my brain could intervene.Heat between my thighs.Pulse quickening.I gritted my teeth and kept walking.
Alice was in the kitchen, arranging a breakfast tray with her usual efficiency.She looked up when I entered, and something in her eyes made me want to turn around and walk back out.
“Good morning, Miss Hughes.”Her voice was gentle.Too gentle.Like she knew exactly what had happened last night and was choosing not to mention it.
“Morning.”I poured myself coffee, kept my hands busy so they wouldn’t shake.“Is he… is Mr.Antonov here?”
“He left early.Business downtown.”A pause.“He mentioned he won’t be back until this evening.”
Relief rushed through me, followed immediately by something that felt disturbingly like disappointment.I crushed it before it could take root.
“Good.I’m going to the hotel.I have work to do.”
Alice nodded, but her eyes stayed on my face a moment too long.“Of course, Miss Hughes.Take care of yourself.”
The drive to the hotel was escape.Every mile between me and that manor was a mile I could breathe easier, think clearer, remember who I was outside his orbit.
The Hughes was recovering.I could see it the moment I walked through the lobby, in the way the staff moved with renewed purpose, in the comfortable bustle of guests checking in and out.A gust of warm air hit me as soon as I entered.The heating crisis had been handled.The scent here was familiar: fresh flowers and the faint trace of the coffee they served in the restaurant.Home.The hotel had survived.Because of me.
I threw myself into work with a desperation that probably looked like dedication.Budget meetings, staff reviews, vendor negotiations.Anything to keep my mind occupied, to drown out the memory of his hands on my skin, his voice telling me to come.
“You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
I looked up to find Michael standing in my office doorway, two cups of coffee in his hands and an easy smile on his face.He was wearing a blue button-down with the hotel’s logo on the chest, sleeves rolled to his elbows, looking like something out of a hotel management catalog.Approachable.Safe.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”I accepted the coffee he offered, wrapping my hands around the warm cup.“I’m fine.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”He settled into the chair across from my desk, completely at ease.“The boiler’s been fixed, Lena.The guests are happy.The staff thinks you walk on water.You can stop running on fumes.”
“I’m not running on fumes.I’m running on caffeine and spite.”
He laughed, and the sound was warm and uncomplicated in a way that made my heart skip.This was what normal was.Easy conversation.Genuine kindness.No hidden agendas, no power games, no desperate wondering what came next.
“The quarterly reports are ready for review,” he said, setting a folder on my desk.“I also had a conversation with the Paradise Peaks tourism board.They’re interested in featuring the hotel in their spring campaign.”
“That’s great, Michael.Thank you.”
