ʙᴜʀɴɪɴɢ ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇꜱ

Chapter 13

Sebastian

Strands of her chestnut brown hair were scattered around her, disobediently forming various shapes around her sleeping form. Her face seemed calm and relaxed, the total opposite of her usual rigid expression.

Partially leaning against the window pane, I looked at the garden which was mercilessly beaten by the rain, million tiny drop fighting a battle with the strong wind. Occasionally the window would creak from the force of the storm, and then she would stir briefly in her sleep.

Although I personally tried to divert my gaze from her, it persistently and stubbornly returned to her.

Her beauty radiated from her pale skin, and her naturally flushed and red lips were a stark contrast to the paleness of her face. It was as if fire was radiating from them, inviting you with its light flames to join it in that fiery dance.

I don't think she herself was aware of her beauty, and the power with which she mesmerized everyone around her. Her beauty was not modern and everyday, but unique and rare.

Every ounce of common sense told me to get away from her, to get her away from me. But then, every little part, from which this wild desire for her was woven, did not give me peace or a chance to leave her alone.

I heard a rustle and out of the corner of my eye I saw her body move but I refused to turn around. Putting on my merciless face and suppressing the thoughts that haunted me, I played Russian roulette with my conscience once more.

She slowly straightened up in a sitting position, holding her head with both hands and slowly opening her eyes.

"God, I think my head is going to explode."

When she managed to relax a little, she searched the room with a lost look and a moment of sobriety occurred when she saw me and memories of the previous event began to flood her.

"What happened?"

The horror on her face was evident. Frantically, she lifted the blanket, looking over her body, looking for a wound or any kind of injury. She was still dressed in her clothes, which were wet in some places from the rain.

"You passed out."

"Whe-where are we?"

She stammered. Her voice was scared and a bit more tender than I remember. There was no pride in it, just pure terror.

"At my home."

Now I have already turned, completely facing her. My gaze was unwavering and the tone of my voice seemingly devoid of any emotion.

"I don't understand what I'm doing here. I shouldn't be here. I should be at home. . ."

She said quickly, nervously, almost indistinctly, and tried to stand up, only to be overcome by weakness immediately after her feet touched the floor and began to fall.

With a few quick steps, I found myself next to her and held her limp body. I helped her back to the bed and pit her to a sitting position.

She flinched at my touch, almost mechanically and involuntarily. She covered her face with her hands and nervously ran her fingers through her messy hair.

"I. . . I . . . What happened is my. . . I want to apologize for putting you in danger."

She started talking, glancing briefly in my direction and then avoiding my gaze, looking at her hands and fidgeting with her fingers.

"Thank you. Thank you for saving me."

At that moment, the image of a black jeep flashed through my head and a gunshot, which was obviously a warning. No one experienced would miss such an opportunity. Then the way I instinctively jumped over her to protect her without thinking about myself. Her tiny unconscious body and the weak pulse that pulsed beneath me.

"If anyone should apologize, it should be me. Why should you apologize? I'm the one who almost got you hurt."

She snapped her head at my words, confusion evidently plastered on her face.

"Those guys wanted to hurt me."

She said it as if it went without saying. I pretended not to understand what she was talking about and continued calmly.

"I don't understand why someone would want to harm you? I'm a rich, powerful man. There are many people who want to work with me, and more importantly, there are a few of them who are even more bothered by the fact that I don't want to do business with them. Anyway, I'm the one responsible for your potential injury."

I looked her straight in the eyes, and she matched my stare. She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it, as if she was fighting internal's battle about her next words.

"I'm a lawyer, I've sent a lot of people to jail. Maybe I made some enemies here and there. Either way, I don't believe this was meant for you. So thank you, but I have to get out of here."

Her last words were louder but her voice trembled as she said them.

"You still don't seem to understand. You're not going anywhere."

She looked at me in amazement. My voice was cold and cut off.

"You can't hold me against my will. I don't want to stay in your house. In your room. To sleep in your bed for God's sake! Are you out of your mind?"

She started shouting.

"I can and I will. I'm not letting you go until my men investigate everything, so you can be safe. And don't flatter yourself."

I told her, getting very close to her, leaning on the mattress with both hands.

"This has nothing to do with you. I don't want to have you on my consience. You still don't understand that when it comes to me, you have no choice."

I moved away from her, her lingering perfume wafting my senses and headed for the door.

"You have my dry clothes on the dresser. I didn't want to change your clothes, you'll understand why."

I grabbed the doorknob and turned one last time, looking at her frazzled face and mouth wide open in shock.

"This is the guest room. You didn't think I'd let you in my bed Miss Sammers, did you?"

Every time I push the limit when it comes to her and letting her in too much. I have to draw the line somewhere. If not for her, to remind myself that she must be out of my reach.