Dangerous Love

Chapter Twelve

Completely distraught and with a heavy feeling in my chest, I grab my bag and head for the elevator. What just happened? Inside, I retreat. Once outside, I wander aimlessly. I have no interest in the rain that is now starting to fall. At dusk, I stand paralyzed in one place, with no idea where I am. To escape the pain and despair, I head to a bar that catches my eye. At the bar, I order two tequilas. "For you, Paige," I murmur quietly. An hour later, I have already drunk more than ten tequilas and my head is resting on the table. Oh Paige, your life is really miserable, nothing is going right - not as a writer, not at this job, and then there's him. "Miss, it's time to go, we're closing now," the bartender says. Dazed, I try to get my bearings. Damn, ouch! The lantern! My eyes keep closing. I fumble for my cell phone.

 Damn, where is Kate's name? Ah, that could be it. It rings twice. "Miss Morgan, are you okay?" "Oh, you're not Kate, oops, wrong number." "Damn cell phone, where do I hang up?" "Paige, are you drunk?" "Noooo," I laugh quietly to myself. "Where are you?" "Far away from you, just away, away." I hang up. Damn, that wasn't Kate. My cell phone rings again. "Kate, stay where you are, I'm coming!" "Mr. Stevens, oh man, I'm sitting down!" "Ouch, it hurts... Phew, Sam Sam, I'm clearing my throat!" Almost half asleep, I laugh until I suddenly notice someone kneeling in front of me. "Paige, look at me!" I look up. "Mr. Stevens, how do you know... where... Oh God, everything is blurring!" Darkness spreads before my eyes. "Paige, hey, look at me!" I feel myself feeling light. Wow. Everything around me goes black. "Paige, hey, look at me!" I feel like I'm floating. Many lights flash above me. "Paige, can you hear me? Mr. Stevens, I'm here, everything is fine!" I try to nod. I notice that I'm lying on something soft and then everything goes dark again. When I open my eyes slightly again, it is still dim.

 Ah, damn head! A heavy duvet envelops my body. As I try to move, I see that someone is standing at the window. Who is that? I ask in a barely audible voice. The person turns around and comes towards me. Paige, shocked, I jump back. "Mr. Stevens, what are you doing here?" "Oh, damn it!" He sits down on the bed next to me. "Miss Morgan, why did you act like that?" "It's only bad for your health." "I guess that's my problem." "I want to go home." "You're at my house, so try to get some sleep." He gently pushes me back into the soft duvet and makes his way to the door. Pain shoots through me and I don't know why, but I ask quietly, "Can you stay with me?" He stops, slowly turns to me and comes back to my bed. He puts his watch on the nightstand, takes off his jacket and hangs it over the chair by the desk. 

Then he comes into bed with me and pulls me close to him. I feel his heartbeat and his warmth. "What are you doing to me?" "Paige?" he asks, gently stroking my face. I find that despite all he's done, I can't just push him out of my head. "Try to sleep a little longer," he says and kisses my forehead gently. I snuggle up to him and slowly start to dream.When morning breaks, I pull the covers aside and get up. Wow, the view is simply breathtaking! I am in what looks like his bedroom and have a view of the fascinating Manhattan. At this moment my thoughts are spinning. I want to finally find out who he really is.

Despite the pain he has caused me, I longed to be with him more than ever. As I ponder everything, I suddenly feel him put his arms around my waist. "Good morning!" "Morning," I answer and he asks, "How are you?" "Better than I thought." "Are you hungry?" "I shake my head." "You should be," he replies. "Eat something and take a painkiller." "Okay, let's come, Ms. Johnson has probably already prepared breakfast." Ms. Johnson? I ask him; he explains that she is the housekeeper.

"Ah, I see," I say and we leave the huge bedroom, which has a light box spring bed and a dark floor with a carpet. Through the door we enter a wonderful, open living area with a huge white leather couch that stands on a shimmering carpet. A gigantic flat screen TV hangs on the wall, underneath is a kind of fireplace, and to our right a long hallway leads along. We go down the impressive spiral staircase and sure enough: breakfast awaits us in the dining area. To my left stands a middle-aged lady with brown hair who smiles at us friendly. Daniel holds my right hand tightly. "Ms. Johnson, this is Miss Morgan, very pleased, Miss Morgan," she says. "Oh, please call me Paige." "Of course, Paige," she replies and I smile at her.