Blind Girl: A Dark Billionaire Romance

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Blind Girl: A Dark Billionaire Romance Page 10

by Kiss, Tabatha


  “Alice…”

  I look up from the desk and smile. “Hello, Charles,” I say to him as he steps into his office. He holds a small file in his hand.

  “I let you get away with many things,” he says as he stands over me, his eyes boring down on me, “but sitting in my chair is not one of them.”

  “Have I been naughty?” I ask him.

  “Very.”

  I hold my hands up and push myself off the chair. “My bad,” I smile. He watches me move around the desk before sitting down. “What was your meeting about?” I ask him as I take a seat next to my purse on the sofa.

  “Nothing you need to worry about,” he tells me.

  I sit back and stare at him as he opens the file on his desk. He feels cold, preoccupied, but I’m not surprised. There’s work Charles and then there’s play Charles and they rarely intersect.

  “Charles,” I say.

  “Alice.”

  I stand up and slowly walk over to his desk. “You’re busy,” I note.

  He doesn’t look up from his paperwork. “Very.”

  “Do you want me to leave?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

  He pauses and then leans back in his chair. “You have something to tell me,” he says with a playful twinge behind his eyes.

  “How can you tell?” I smile at him.

  “I always know,” he simply says. “What is it?”

  “Guess.”

  “Alice, I am a very busy man.”

  “Guess quickly.” He raises his eyebrow at me and gives me a stern glare. I bite my lip. “When is your next trip to Paris?” I ask him.

  “Next weekend,” he answers. “Why?”

  I reach into my back pocket and pull out my passport. “It just arrived today.” I place it on his desk in front of him and smile down at him.

  He leans against his wrist and grips his chin. “Close the door, Alice.” I obey him and walk across the room to the door. He watches me as I do it, his eyes wandering up and down my body until I come back. “Place your hands on the desk.”

  I pause. “What?”

  “Do as I say.” He stares at me from his chair and I see that all of his playfulness has disappeared from his eyes.

  “No,” I say.

  He stands up from his chair slowly and walks around his desk to stand over me. “What have I told you about showing up to my office?”

  “Don’t,” I answer.

  “And yet — here you are.”

  The ends of my lips twitch. “I like surprising you, Charles.”

  “Does it make you happy?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I answer.

  He flexes his jaw. “Do you like coming down here and flaunting yourself in front of my staff?” he asks.

  “I don’t flaunt—”

  “Alice.” He places a cold hand on the back of my neck. I shiver. “I don’t want you to ever show up here again, do I make myself clear?”

  I recoil from him, but he keeps his hand firmly gripped to my neck. “Charles—”

  “Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes!”

  He releases me and I back away from him. “Go home, Alice,” he tells me. “Harvey will pick you up at seven, we will continue this discussion then.”

  I snatch my passport off his desk. “No,” I say.

  He watches me as I grab my purse and coat. “No?” he asks.

  I step quickly towards the door. “I have plans tonight,” I say.

  “What plans?”

  “Plans that don’t include you.”

  “Alice—”

  I pull the door open. “I’ll see you… whenever, Charles.” I don’t care to hear his response. I’ve lost patience with his coldness. I know that if I go to his place tonight, he’ll be warm and kind. Almost sensitive. He’ll win me back over, but then tomorrow, it’ll be back to square one. It’s been the same story for weeks.

  I charge down the hall and don’t look back.

  ***

  “Good morning, Margie.” I wave to her as I pass by the front desk on my way to breakfast.

  “Good morning, Alice — Oh, Alice! You have a delivery.”

  I pause with my hand on the door. “What is it?” I ask.

  She pokes her head around a large vase full of roses sitting on the desk. “Here you go,” she says as she pushes it closer to me. “It just arrived this morning.”

  “This?!” I ask as I move in closer.

  “Looks like you have a secret admirer…” she says. “Or someone is very, very sorry.”

  I find a card tucked between two roses. “Maybe a little of both,” I tell her. “Thanks, Margie.”

  I take the vase upstairs to my room and stare at it for a few minutes. After the way I rushed out of his office last week, I was sure Charles was through with me. I haven’t heard from him since and I’m not sure I even want to, but as I once again stare at a gift he’s sent me, I’m filled with confusion and doubt.

  I peel open the small envelope and pull the card out.

  Odi et amo. quare id faciam, fortasse requiris?

  nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.

  My eyes scan it multiple times. It’s handwritten and matches the writing on the card that came with the blue Faleuro dress. Charles’ handwriting.

  Odi et amo… I hate and I love.

  It’s a Latin poem.

  How can I do that, you might ask me perhaps?

  I do not know. But that’s what I feel and this is torture.

  I read it again. And again. And again. But I feel no less angry each time. I grab my phone and do a quick search for Charles’ office number.

  “Kent Insurance Corporation, this is Kate.”

  “Kate, it’s Alice. I need to talk to Charles,” I tell her.

  “Good morning, Alice. He just walked in. I’ll send you to his private line.”

  “Thank you.”

  My heart beats quickly as I try and plan out what to say. Words turn to mush in my mind and I almost lose my nerve at the last moment.

  “Alice.”

  I swallow quickly to wet my throat. “What the hell is this, Charles?”

  “I see you received my gift.” He sounds amused.

  “Do you know what this says?” I ask him. “You didn’t just look up something Latin on the internet and write it on the card, right?”

  He chuckles. “I know what it says, Alice.”

  “Then I’m really confused.”

  “Meet me tonight and we’ll talk about it.”

  I hold my breath and slowly push it out of my lungs. My frustration with him has reached new heights. “No,” I finally say.

  “Alice, please.”

  I sigh and collapse onto my bed. The ceiling stares back at me, blank and white. “Where?” I ask.

  “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  I pause. “You’ll pick me up?”

  “Harvey will drive, of course, but I will be there, yes.”

  He’s trying, this much is certain. I consider the possibility that he’s changed his emotional stance on me. “Fine,” I say.

  “Thank you, Alice.”

  I hang up and toss the phone onto the bed next to me.

  ***

  I watch as the black car pulls up to the curb outside of my dorm. It’s been snowing for the last ten minutes and I’m freezing, but I’d rather brave the cold than wait inside with Gabby’s constant chatter. I didn’t bother to show her the poem. If I had, she probably would have filled my head with bullshit and pushed me back into his non-loving arms.

  The back door opens and Charles steps out of the car.

  “Alice…” he says. “What are you doing out here?”

  I don’t answer. “Where are we going?” I ask instead.

  “Get in.” He stands to the side and lets me enter the car first.

  It’s warm inside and my skin delights in it as I breathe it in. Charles slides in quickly and closes the door behind him. I stare straight ahead and notice a black barrier blocking us fr
om view of the driver’s seat.

  The car moves forward and we sit in silence for a few minutes as my body adapts to the new temperature. I watch the world move outside the window, but I notice that we’ve gone in a circle around the main campus.

  “Where are we going?” I ask him again.

  “Nowhere.”

  I look over at him. “What?”

  “Alice, I have the feeling you will not like what I have to say to you tonight,” he says.

  I take a breath. “And that is?”

  He looks at me and smiles. “I would very much like to continue with our arrangement, Alice, but in order to do so, I need for you to recall the terms.”

  “The terms?”

  “I feel as though you want more from me than I agreed to.”

  I scoff and shake my head. “You feel? Could have fooled me, Charles.” I know I’ve angered him, I can see it in his eyes, but I keep my focus steady.

  “Alice,” he begins, “I told you I could not love you and I meant it.”

  “Then why send a love poem?”

  “It got your attention.”

  I turn away from him. “It certainly did.”

  “Alice, I want you,” he says, his voice soft. “I feel intoxicating desire for your body every day, but that’s as far as it goes.”

  “I can’t live like that, Charles,” I tell him. “I need more.”

  “I beg you to reconsider.”

  “You can have anybody,” I argue. “Why bother with me?” He looks straight ahead. I can see it on his face, the words gathering on the tip of his tongue, but he refuses to say them. “You promised me, Charles.” I lean in, speaking before he can. “I asked you why me and you promised you’d tell me.”

  “I will. Just not now.”

  My lip trembles. “It’s over, Charles.”

  “Alice, please.” I shake my head and refuse to look at him. “What would you like for me to say, Alice?” he asks.

  I hold back my tears. “Lie to me.”

  He heaves an impatient breath. “Yes, Alice. I love you. I adore you. I want to wed you and fill you with beautiful children and be by your side until we die holding hands.” I turn to him as the tears fall down my cheeks. “There,” he says. “Do you feel better?”

  “No.”

  “You demand honesty from me, Alice, and you reject it when you don’t like what you hear. You ask me to lie to you and you still are not happy.”

  “Stop the car,” I demand.

  “Alice, look at me.”

  I stare straight ahead and close my eyes. “I don’t want this anymore. Stop the car.”

  “Would you please look at me, Alice?” He’s calm with a steady voice, in complete control. I wipe the tears off my face before I turn to him. “Thank you,” he says. His eyes admire my face for a moment, a hint of sadness behind his rough exterior. “Stay with me and I will give you the world.”

  “I don’t want the world.”

  “Come to Paris with me this weekend,” he begs. “Bring the dress.”

  “No.”

  “Alice—”

  “No!”

  He pauses and sits back in his seat. “Alice,” he speaks slowly. “If you do this, you will live to regret it.”

  His words send a chill down my spine. I turn to him and once again sense his anger. “Charles,” I say, “It’s over. I’ve made my decision.”

  He sits up a little taller. “Are you sure?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  His eyes stay on mine. “Alice,” he says my name just above a whisper. “Are you sure?”

  The question stings the air around us, daring me to give a different answer.

  “Yes,” I repeat.

  Charles nods. We sit in silence for a moment before he reaches out and knocks on his window.

  The car stops in front of my dorm.

  “As you wish, my darling,” he says quietly.

  I push the car door open and step outside into the freezing cold snow. I watch as the black car rolls off down the street and wait until it rounds the corner before returning to my dorm room.

  When I get back to the room, I collapse onto my bed.

  After a few minutes of silence, I hear Gabby’s voice. “Are you okay?” she asks.

  I roll over onto my back and stare at the ceiling. “I will be,” I say. I wipe the moisture off my face and glance around the room.

  My eyes fall on the blue Faleuro dress hanging in the closet.

  I only wore it once.

  Chapter 9

  As You Wish

  Five Years Later

  Click.

  I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter to resist the pull of consciousness.

  Click.

  The sound rings louder in my ears. “Percy…” I mutter. “What are you doing?”

  Click. Click. Click.

  “Percy!”

  I open my eyes to find him standing over me, staring at me over the top of his camera. His blond hair falls over his eyes and gets caught behind the rims of his glasses. “Have I ever told you you’re the cutest sleeper?” he asks me.

  “It has come up on occasion,” I yawn, “but I still don’t understand why it requires so many pictures.”

  He laughs and lays a hand on my shoulder. “I have news,” he says.

  “It’s too early for news.” I close my eyes with the intention of drifting off to sleep again.

  “It’s almost one in the afternoon,” he says. “It’s the perfect time for news. Believe me, I checked.”

  “And whom exactly is the high authority on news you questioned for this information?”

  “I’m sorry… whom?” he laughs. “You sure are wordy when you’re sleepy… and crabby.”

  “I’m not crabby,” I grunt. “I’ve just been woken up before my alarm after pulling an all-nighter.”

  “Another one?” I feel him kick off his shoes and slip into the bed behind me.

  “I have a deadline and I’m sticking to it,” I say.

  Percy wraps an arm around me and kisses my neck. “You’ll finish your book, don’t worry,” he says. “You’re amazing.”

  I smile. “I’m amazing because I get a lot of sleep.”

  “Okay, okay.” He kisses me again. “But I have to tell you something first. Then you can go back to sleep.”

  “What?”

  He leans in closer and I feel his lips tickle my earlobe. “I sold the portraits,” he whispers.

  “What?” I spin around to face him so quickly, I nearly flop off the bed. “You sold the portraits?!”

  “Yep.”

  “How many of them?”

  “All of them.”

  I curl my fingers into a fist and hit his chest. “You’re joking!”

  He shakes his head. “I’m not,” he laughs.

  “Percy!” I throw my arms around him. “Holy shit! Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I told you I had news!” he says. “But no, you wanted to sleep!”

  I kiss him quickly. “Well, I’m wide awake now!” Laughter bellows up from the depths of my heart. Happiness consumes me. “Who bought them?”

  “I don’t know,” he says. “Some anonymous buyer saw them on display at the gallery and contacted the owner.”

  “Wow…”

  “Yeah… wow.” He leans in closer and kisses me again. “And it was all because of you, you know.”

  I scoff. “Lies.”

  “They were your portraits, Alice,” he says. “When someone buys art, they buy it because of the subject, not the artist—”

  “That’s not true,” I say. “You created the art, Percy. I just sat there.”

  He laughs at me. “Don’t sell yourself short, Alice.”

  I lick my lips and block the memory as it fights for prominence in my mind. Instead, I focus on the day the portraits were taken and how erotic it felt to lie naked under a sea of bright lights, nude and sweating. Percy cropped my face out of every portrait to hide my identity. They were nude portraits,
after all, and my mother would die an early death if she ever found out about them. The memory of that day is shared between the two of us, and only us. Mine and Percy’s perfect little secret. “We have to celebrate,” I say.

  Percy nods. “And believe me, Alice,” he kisses me, “we can afford a big celebration.”

  “How much did they pay?”

  “Nope—” He pushes himself off the bed. “I’m not telling you.”

  “Oh, come on!” I sit up and try to pull him back to me, but he slips from my fingers. “I want to know how much pictures of my boobs are worth.”

  “Nope!” He shouts from across the apartment and disappears around the corner.

  “Percy!”

  “Alice!”

  “Come back here!”

  I see his head peak around the wall at me. He smiles wide. “Why?” he asks.

  I hold up a finger and summon him closer with a classic come-hither stare. He obeys me slowly, dragging his feet across the room before toppling back onto the bed. “Come here,” I whisper.

  “Why?” he whispers back.

  “You know why.”

  I take his face into my hands and pull him in for a kiss. He places his palms on either side of me and holds himself up as I drive his desires towards me. Percy. My blond-haired, blue-eyed nerd. I jerk at his jeans to pull the button free.

  “Alice,” he says. “What are you doing?”

  I push my hand between his open zipper and claim my prize. “Celebrating,” I answer as I stroke him in my palm.

  Percy gives me a firm kiss as his manhood goes stiff in my hand. His body twitches above me. He kicks his trousers off and pulls my night shirt over my hips to reveal my soaking sex. I reach over to the nightstand and grab a condom from the drawer. He heaves breaths of passion as I roll it down his hard shaft.

  “Percy…” I moan his name as he enters me. He fills me with quick and eager thrusts and takes his time on me. My knees quiver around his body. I grip his rear to pull him closer and take his cock a little deeper. “Harder,” I beg. He grunts and drives harder into me — but not hard enough. “More!” I buck my hips to meet his thrusts.

  Percy ravages my lips with greater intensity. His hands move over my body, grasping at my breasts. I take hold of his hand and bring it to my hair. I clench his fingers together into a fist and urge him to tighten his grip on me, to bring me satisfying pain, but he drops my hair. I grunt with frustration and my mind wanders free. It’s not in Percy’s nature to harm me — but it doesn’t stop me from trying.

 

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