Chasing the Flame

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

KIMBERLY.

Quand il me prend dans ses bras,I l me parle tout bas, Je vois la vie en rose.

Translation: When he takes me in his arms, and speaks to me softly, I see the world through rose-colored glasses.

POV.

"Everything's perfectly fine," I assured my mom over the phone.

She'd called to check up on me. I'd just moved out yesterday, and she insisted I come home every day—a suggestion I had to decline. Staying at Ethan's apartment from Monday to Friday made my work life much easier, so I had gladly accepted his offer to take one of the flats in the boys' quarters.

The room was surprisingly spacious, equipped with a computer and high-speed internet, which I used to pass the time when I wasn't busy. My mom had also mentioned she'd be working at the coffee shop for a month, and my sister had been sent to stay with my grandma. At least everything was sorted out.

After our conversation, I decided to clean Ethan's bedroom. His room was expansive and distinctly masculine, furnished with a king-sized bed and luxurious, high-end items. As I opened the cupboard, I was greeted with the unmistakable odor of used condoms. My eyebrows shot up in surprise—what a playboy!

I quickly discarded everything and took a deep breath, trying to shake off the unsettling discovery. The scent of his bed linens reminded me of the first day we met, when he had bumped into me and called me stupid. What an arrogant man.

The rest of my day was spent reading various books and making lists of things I planned to do after our contract ended. When 6 p.m. rolled around, I decided to prepare dinner for him. However, upon opening the fridge, I found it nearly empty—how could a billionaire have so little in his refrigerator?

I jotted down a shopping list, hoping to ask for money when he arrived. Just as I was finishing, I heard the front door open, followed by a woman's voice. I dashed upstairs, not wanting to be seen by anyone coming through the door. It had to be one of Ethan's flings.

From my vantage point at the top of the stairs, I watched as Ethan's arms wrapped around the woman. Their lips locked in an eager kiss, and they almost ripped each other's clothes off. My heart sank, feeling a pang of unease.

Why did I even care? He wasn't mine to worry about. The woman, who had also been at the fundraising event, had irritated me then—I had nearly lost my temper. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

They were passionately involved, their movements causing the house to tremble slightly. Almost three hours later, their activities finally ceased. The woman's flirtatious voice echoed down the hall.

"I had fun, baby," she laughed, her tone a mix of satisfaction and mirth.

Their conversation was impossible to ignore, not that I was eavesdropping intentionally; their voices were just too loud. Ethan escorted her out of the apartment, and I saw her flirtatiously lean in as she left. His eyes seemed dark, and I couldn't quite gauge his emotions.

Eventually, I couldn't stay hidden any longer. As I descended the stairs, I nearly collided with him. He gave me a lingering, intense look, his gaze drifting over my oversized T-shirt and shorts. His presence was overpowering, like a looming shadow.

I noticed traces of lipstick on his lips from the woman, and I cleared my throat, trying to make my escape. What was wrong with me? Why was I feeling this way?

"I'm very sorry about the noise. I didn't mean to intrude," he said, biting his lower lip, his gaze now focused on my attire.

I rubbed my forehead lazily. "What are you talking about?" I feigned ignorance.

He looked even more attractive standing there, his strong shoulders and defined muscles visible beneath his shirt.

"You didn't hear anything?" he asked, staring at me intently.

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about, sir," I said, walking towards the fridge to avoid his piercing gaze.

A heavy silence settled between us. I could feel him moving closer, his breath growing warmer on my neck. He stopped, just inches away, and his touch on my arms sent a shiver down my spine.

He pinned me against the fridge, gently pushing the stray locks of hair from my face. "I know you're lying, Kimberly," he said, his sultry green eyes locked on mine.

I swallowed hard. His proximity, his eyes, and his touch made it nearly impossible to think straight.

"I'm sorry, Kimberly. I've just been in a very bad mood lately," he said, his voice lower and more husky than usual. He searched my eyes with a hunger that made my heart race. Then, he released my arms, leaving me standing there, feeling disoriented.

I took a deep breath, regaining some composure. "I honestly don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Salvaire. You don't have to worry about anything," I said, trying to sound confident as I folded my arms.

"Are you sure? The walls are pretty thin," he said, his upper lip twitching slightly.

I nodded, trying to appear unaffected. "What's for dinner?" he asked, clearly shifting the topic to avoid any more discussion about what had just happened.

I realized I hadn't actually prepared anything yet. I was about to tell him the fridge was empty when this whole exchange occurred.

"There's nothing in the fridge, sir," I admitted.

His green eyes narrowed as he looked at me. "What have you been doing if you haven't made dinner?"

I scratched my forehead, searching for an excuse. "You shouldn't lie to me, Kimberly. I saw you watching," he said, making my face flush with embarrassment.

Damn it! This man was insufferable. "Fine! I heard all the noise, but what was I supposed to do?!" I exclaimed, my voice rising in pitch before I mouthed a quiet "I'm sorry."

He let out a low, throaty laugh. "You should be more vocal often. I find it quite..." He paused, his eyes lingering on mine with a seductive intensity. "Interesting."

"I've already had dinner, Miss Stafford. You should go to bed. You look tired," he said, his grin widening.

I quickly turned to leave, but he pulled me back, gently holding my hands and rubbing the tips of my fingers.

"I'm really sorry about tonight. It won't happen again, I promise," he said softly.

"Goodnight, Kimberly," he added, releasing my hands and leaving me standing there, feeling both bewildered and oddly touched.