Sacha's condominium is a large open-concept space with floor-to-ceiling windows at the far end wall that can be seen as soon as you step in through the door.
I walk straight to them as his men carry my worldly possession in suitcases and boxes inside.
We're up on the twenty-fifth floor and the view of the cityscape at night is gorgeous. You can't see the stars very clearly in the city but the lights in the windows of the buildings around us look like the bright night sky.
I'm aware of Sacha's presence behind me. He's agile and silent but very alert and focused, like a hunter that he is and I feel like a trapped prey.
My lower lip is still tingling from his touch. It's just a brief touch, there's no reason for it to rattle me this much. But it does, it affects me more than any kisses I'd shared with other boys or men before.
If a little touch from him affects me this much, what would his kiss do to me? I fight the urge to touch my lip.
I watch him watching me through the reflection in the glass window before I blink and look down.
I push away from the window and his eyes follow me as I move around his living space.
I take in the soaring ceiling and the white marble floor that reflects the glittering chandeliers. Everything is in black and white and grey. His place is beautiful, even more impressive than Nico's bachelor's pad.
The strong color scheme continues throughout the dining area and the living room. A stainless steel fireplace sets in a half-wall between the two areas. Big bold paintings grace the walls.
I bet that it's professionally decorated and despite the beautiful decor, it feels cold and impersonal. There are no pictures of him or his family anywhere, no errant jacket or shirt on the back of a chair, or a half-read book on the coffee table.
Then I remember that his life isn't really here. His family is in Seattle.
I let my fingers slide over the cool black quartz countertop as I drift from the living room to the kitchen.
"You move like a dancer," he notes suddenly. "Instead of walking, you glide."
I pause before I whirl around to face him. His bright hazel eyes are watching me like he's trying to figure me out.
That comment almost sounded like a compliment and I don't know how to react to something like that from him. "I'm not a dancer," I reply, finally. "I mean, I did start ballet when I was four, but I stopped...when I was twelve."
He moves silently to stand close to me- like a predator closing in on its prey. His voice is quiet and silky smooth when he asks, "What happened when you were twelve?"
I stopped after Astaroth took away my second nanny...as another lesson when I misbehaved. She was always very stern and cold and I didn't care much about her. Besides, I've learned my lesson not to care for our paid help after my first nanny. But something inside me broke even more after her death...and I stopped finding joy in ballet.
I tear my gaze away from his piercing stare and lift my chin up. I don't know why I told him about my involvement in ballet or revealed anything at all about my childhood. The last thing I want is his sympathy and we don't need to know each other.
I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly. "Too much work and commitment. Who has time for that?"
I'm aware of his penetrating stare drilling into the side of my head as I avoid looking at him. He sees too much and it bothers me.
"Too much hard work and discipline for a princess, huh?" he says mockingly after a while.
"Yep!" I answer as I slowly walk back to the living room so that we're not standing too close to each other anymore.
YOU ARE READING
A Legacy of the Damned: Daughter of Astaroth
RomanceWe are natural-born enemies for his kind hunt and destroy my kind. But when I first saw him, I was enamored. I was stupid. I was full of foolish romantic ideas. I thought he was my prince charming, my white knight in shiny armor. Turns out, he's my...