My Life as Duke Starr's Assistant

My Life as Duke Starr's Assistant...[Part 18]

I walked up to the posh apartment complex that Duke lived in. It was located in upper, upper Beverly Hills, so the complex was gated.

After convincing the gatekeeper that I was Duke's assistant and to let me in, he obliged and opened the gate for me. I told him not to ring Duke to let him know that I was there. I was afraid Duke wouldn't open the door if he knew who it was.

I went to his apartment, which was in the back of the complex, on the topmost floor. I rang the doorbell and waited. I realized that there was a peep-hole and that Duke would probably look through it to see who it was. In a split second, I moved out of the view of the peep-hole, so that he would be forced to open the door.

"Who is it?" he called. I frowned. He would ask who it was. I maneuvered my hand so that I could knock on the door again, but he wouldn't see me. I heard him sigh aggravatedly and heard the sound of a lock clicking and chains dangling. As the door opened, I stood in front of it and grinned when Duke opened it completely.

He just looked at me.

Then he sighed and began closing the door.

I put my hand on the door and my foot in front of it so he couldn't close it.

"Please move your hand and foot," he said robotically.

"I need to talk to you," I said.

"That's a shame, because I'm not in the mood to talk," he replied, a sarcastic smile on his face.

"Duke--" I started. He began pushing the door closed and I struggled to keep it open with my hand. Instead, I was pushed backwards. He was strong. I needed to approach this differently.

I assessed the position of Duke and the rapidly closing door and the width of the doorway. If I ran right now, I would be able to jump through the space between Duke and the doorframe and get into the apartment.

I set my jaw and with a surge of speed and energy, I removed my hand and foot from the door and jumped through the space between Duke and the door and into his apartment. I made it in. My landing, though, was horrible.

I toppled to the ground, losing my footing, the heel of my shoe scraping painfully against my pant leg.

"God dammit. That wasn't graceful," I hissed, clutching my now aching knee. Duke turned to face me, his eyes livid, his nostrils flared in anger. I looked up at him innocently.

"I need to talk to you," I told him.

"I told you, I don't want to talk," he replied. I frowned and noticed a dark red spot forming on my jeans. I pulled up the leg to see what happened.

"Shit," I mumbled. I was bleeding. He looked down at the gash in my knee and I saw his expression soften.

"You are such a clutz," he said, closing the door and then squatting down beside me.

"I don't think it's too deep..." I muttered.

"It still needs to be cleaned up. We can't let it get infected," he said, placing his hand lightly on the part of my knee that wasn't bleeding and examining it.

I kicked off my heels, cursing them for being so sharp. He stood and held his hand out, pulling me up with his amazing strength. Effortlessly, he put his other hand under my knees and pulled me into his arm bridal style. Out of fear of falling, I gripped his neck.

"I can walk myself, Duke," I told him, our faces incredibly close.

"I don't want you bleeding on my carpet," he replied, his blue eyes flashing. Then he carried me to his bedroom--which was decorated in blues, blacks, and silvers--and then into the bathroom. He set me down on the counter and began rummaging through his cabinets.