That single touch paralyzed me…I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to move. My mouth parted and my body leaned in as one of his strong hands cupped my ass, the other my breast.
“Say it,” he whispered before biting the top of my ear.
I knew what he wanted me to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I reached out, touching his chest, which felt so cold under my fingertips and yet made me feel so hot at the same time. He kissed down my neck, his tongue hot as he licked my skin, his hand squeezing me…we just met. We shouldn’t…but goddamn it I wanted it so badly. I needed it badly.
“Please…” I swarmed in his arms, the aching between my thighs the only thing driving my mind at the point.
“Say it,” he demanded again, lifting his head up, his lips just hovering over mine. “The moment you say it…you can have everything.”
“I…” Before I could get the words out he was gone.
“Ma’am?”
“Ma’am?”
Eyes now open, I stared up at the face of an older woman, maybe in her late thirties or early forties, with brown eyes staring back down at me.
“Good morning, ma’am.” She smiled kindly, moving back as I sat up, running my hands through my hair.
It took me less than a second to remember where I was. It wasn’t hard as the room I sat in most definitely wasn’t a jail cell.
“There is mass this morning, and normally the family skips breakfast, but I was told to give you something light, to last until afterward,” she said, placing the tray on top of the bed over my legs.
I glanced down at the bowl of fruits, crackers, water, and orange juice she prepared for me.
“If you don’t like it I can have the kitchen prepare something else.”
My mind was a little stunned. This was how they started the day? Breakfast in bed? It was so vastly different from my own life that I was too stunned to do or say anything.
“Ma’am?”
“It’s fine…ugh…thanks,” I muttered, reaching for the water instead of the juice.
She nodded her head, walking to the front of the bed where she lifted two outfits. The first was a gray cap-sleeved dress with a sweetheart neckline and a wool burgundy coat. The second was a burgundy laced dress with long elbow-length sleeves and wool gray coat. Both of them screamed elegance. However, I preferred being a little more covered up…maybe that would keep me from dry humping anything within sight seeing as how I couldn’t keep my mind out of the damn gutter.
“The red one,” I said, stuffing a few crackers into my mouth.
“And your shoes?” She lifted up three different pairs already at the front of the bed. For a second I wondered what the hell I had taken that she was able to prepare all of this while I slept less than a few inches away. I was a light sleeper…or at least I thought I was.
“You can pick whatever,” I muttered, still eating. I was sure they would all match perfectly and hurt like hell when the day was over anyway.
“I’ll start your shower,” she said, moving to the bathroom.
When she disappeared inside I fell back down onto the bed to freak out as I should have when I woke up. Oh my fucking God! I was dreaming about him. Ethan. I barely knew him and yet I wanted to screw him so damn bad.
It’s not your fault, Ivy! I tried to comfort myself. It wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t one of those sappy girls. I wasn’t Klarissa Moretti, who was ready to do a goddamn back flip just to get Ethan’s attention. It was just biology. I hadn’t been with anyone in so long my body was just reacting to attention…just biology. It had nothing to do with Ethan.
Ethan? Why did I keep thinking his name? “Ugh.” I groaned, placing the pillow over my head. And I wanted to cry at how soft it was. Like someone had picked wings of an angel and put them on the bed…I slept on this?
“Ma’am, it’s ready.” She stepped out, and I immediately sat back up, putting the pillow down beside me. However, she didn’t look at me any differently, just waited.
Lifting the tray and moving it to the side, I walked into the white marble bathroom. Everything from top to bottom.
“Would you like me to wash your hair?” she asked, following me inside.
“I’m good from here really. Thank you,” I said, quickly realizing then I didn’t ask her for her name. But if she was anything like the hotel people I doubted she would be very conversational. I didn’t want to become…to become like them. All high and mighty as if they were better than everyone else. “What is your name?”
“Danielle, ma’am—”
“Please stop calling me ma’am. It feels weird.” I laughed, brushing my hair behind my ears.
Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry. No one told me you preferred Mrs. Callahan.”
What?
“No. I meant…” Fucking fuck man. She looked scared.
“Either is fine, don’t worry,” I said quickly, and she nodded, leaving the bathroom. Stripping, I turned to look at my reflection, but the glass was already foggy due to the steam. On the counter I saw the robe…the one with my new initials on it. IC, even though I wasn’t even married yet. Taking off the ring, I placed it on top of it before stepping under the shower…
Mrs. Callahan.
I was going to be Mrs. Callahan.
I knew that but hearing it said was…
“Dad, what am I doing?” I sighed, placing my head on the marble. Upon asking that question my heart ached…he was gone. I was doing this because he was gone. Because this was my only option.
“And what can you do from a prison cell eight hundred miles away?” Cillian’s voice snaked into my mind.
Slamming my hand on the wall in anger, I stood back up straighter.
That’s why I’m doing this.
Washing my hair and body as quickly as possible, I stepped out of the shower to find Danielle holding a towel for me along with the robe and ring. Startled, but it wasn’t like I wasn’t used to being watched so carefully, I took it, drying down. From the start to finish she focused on making sure I looked and smelled perfect.
“Is there anything else you would like?” she asked, handing me a burgundy clutch purse that had nothing inside of it, and spread something on my face for the makeup.
“Danielle, is there a reason for the gray and burgundy?” I asked, staring at my reflection…I didn’t recognize myself…again. She’d even added soft waves to my gold hair.
“No. Mr. Callahan is wearing these colors today,” she said as if it were nothing, laying my hair over my shoulder.
“You had me match him?”
Knock.
Knock.
She rushed to the door, opening it partially. “She’s ready.”
Am I? When the door opened wider I thought I’d see him. But he wasn’t there, just one of the big guards.
“Good morning, ma’am. Mr. Callahan is waiting downstairs,” he said, moving for me to walk out.
“Thanks,” I said, stepping out. And when I did, I noticed for the first time that the only two rooms in the whole hall were mine and, I would guess, his as we walked toward the elevator.