CHAPTER 173: CHAPTER 173 WHAT A PRIVILEGE

Now that she was farther into the room, Danica noticed the gleaming white upright piano against the wall beside her.

A piano!

“You can play to your heart’s content while you’re here,” Lorenzo said.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she beamed at him as he released her hand. She lifted the lid. Written on the inside is the word:

KAWAI

She didn’t recognize the name, but that didn’t bother her. She pressed middle C, and it echoed in a golden yellow hue through the big room.

“Yes.” she breathed.

Perfect.

“Balcony over there.” Lorenzo pointed to the wall of glass at the far end of the room.

“The sea is beyond.”

“The sea?” she exclaimed, and whipped her head to his, wanting confirmation.

“Yes,” he said, puzzled and amused by her response.

She raced to the glass. “I’ve never seen the sea!” she whispered, squinting through the murky dark and flattening her nose against the cold glass in her desperation to catch a glimpse. To her disappointment there was nothing but a jet-black night beyond the balcony.

“Never?” Lorenzo sounded incredulous as he stepped up beside her.

“No,” she said. She noticed the little smudge marks her nose and breath had made on the window. Pulling her sleeve over her hand, she rubbed them away.

“We’ll take a walk on the beach tomorrow,” he said.

Danica smile became a yawn.

“You’re tired.” Lorenzo glanced at his watch. “It’s half past midnight. Do you want to go to bed?”

She stilled, gazing at him as her heartbeat soared, and his question hung between them full of possibility.

Bed? His bed?

“I’ll show you to your room,” he murmured, but neither of them moved. They stared at each other, and Danica couldn’t decide whether she was relieved or disappointed. Perhaps more disappointed than relieved, she didn’t know.

“You’re frowning,” he whispered. “Why?”

She remained mute, unable or unwilling to articulate what she was thinking or feeling. She was curious. She liked him. But she knew nothing about sex.

“No,” he uttered, as if talking to himself. “Come on, I’ll take you to your room.” He collected her plastic bags from the kitchen counter, and she followed him up the staircase. At the top of the stairs was a brightly lit landing with two doors.

Lorenzo opened the second one and switched on the light.

The off-white room was spacious and airy, with a king-size bed against the far wall and a large window to one side. The linen was off-white, too, but the bed is scattered with cushions that match the colors in the dramatic seascape that hangs above the bed.

Lorenzo waves her inside and places her bags on a colorful embroidered bench. As she approached the bed, she stared at her reflection in the dark window. Lorenzo moved to stand behind her.

Mirrored in the glass, he was tall, lean, and more than handsome, and she looked wan and scruffy beside him. In every way, they were not equals, and that had never been more apparent than at this moment.

What did he see in her? She was only his cleaner.

Her mind cast back to his childhood friend in the kitchen. She had looked elegant and stylish wearing only his oversize shirt.

Danica turned her head so she was no longer taunted by her own image while Lorenzo drew down the pale green blind and continued to show her around the room.

“There’s an en suite here for you,” he said gently, pointing to the bathroom door and diverting her from her discouraging thoughts.

Her own bathroom!

“Thank you,” she said, but the words seem woefully inadequate for the debt she owed him.

“Hey,” he said, standing in front of her, his bright eyes brimming with compassion.

“I realize that this is all very sudden, Danica. And we hardly know each other. But I couldn’t leave you at the mercy of those men. You have to understand that.” He caught a loose strand of hair that had worked its way free from her braid and gently tucked it behind her ear. “Don’t worry. You’re safe here. I’m not going to touch you. Well, not unless you want me to.”

Danica caught a trace of his scent, evergreen and sandalwood. She closed her eyes, trying to keep a tight rein on her emotions.

“This is my family’s holiday home,” He continued. “Think of our time here as a holiday. A place to think, reflect, get to know each other, and get some distance from all the recent dreadful events in your life.”

A lump formed in her throat, and she bit her upper lip.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“My room’s next door, if you need anything. But right now, it’s really late and what we both need is some sleep.” He planted a tender kiss on her forehead. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Her voice was hoarse and almost inaudible.

He turned and left the room, and she was finally alone, standing in the confines of the most glorious bedroom she had ever been invited to sleep in. She looked from the painting to the bathroom door to the magnificent bed, and slowly she sunk to the floor. Wrapping her arms around herself, she began to weep.

**********

*LORENZO*

I hung our coats in the cloakroom, then collected my beer from the kitchen counter and enjoyed a long draft.

What a day!

That first sweet kiss, I groaned thinking about it, interrupted by those fucking thugs, and then her sudden disappearance and my mad drive to that godforsaken corner of town.

And her revelation.

Almost got sexually assaulted. And now we were here. Alone.

I rubbed my face, trying to process everything that had happened. I should be tired after the long drive and the trials and tribulations of the day, but instead I was wired.

Glancing up at the ceiling, I pinpointed where Danica should, I hope, be sleeping peacefully. She was the real reason I was restless. It took every shred of self-control not to pull her into my arms and...And what? Even after all she had told me, I couldn’t keep my thoughts above my waist. I was like a fucking horny schoolboy.

Leave the girl alone.

But the truth was, I still wanted her and my damn blue balls know it.

Hell. After all she had been through, she deserved a break.

She didn’t need my lascivious attention. She needed a friend.

Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me?

I grabbed my beer and drain the bottle, then reach for Danica’s glass. She had hardly touched her drink. I took a swig and ran a hand through my hair. I knew damn well what was wrong with me.

I wanted her. Badly.

I was infatuated.

There, I had admitted it to myself. She had invaded my thoughts and my dreams since I laid eyes on her.

I fucking burn for her.

But in all my fantasies, she shared my desire. I wanted her, yes. But I wanted her wet and willing, I wanted her to want me, too. I knew I could seduce her, but right now if she were to say yes, she’d be doing so for all the wrong reasons.

Besides, I promised her that I wouldn’t touch her unless she wanted me.

I closed my eyes.

When did I acquire a conscience?

Deep down I knew the answer. I was an hamstrung by our inequality. She had nothing.

I had everything.

And if I took advantage of her, what would that make me? No better than that fucking ex-landlord of hers.

I had brought her here because I wanted to protect her from them, and now I had to protect her from myself.

Fuck.

This was uncharted territory.

While I down the remaining beer, I wondered what was happening at the Mansion. I decided that I can find out tomorrow, and I’ll also let Dante know where I was. I doubt there was anything urgent to deal with and I was sure he’ll be in touch if there was.

I could work down here. I had my phone, though I wish I’d brought my laptop.

Right now I needed some sleep.

Leaving the empty glass and the beer bottle on the counter, I switched off the lights and headed upstairs. I paused outside her bedroom door and listen.

Shit!

She was crying.

Suddenly I was bone tired. I contemplated leaving her to cry but hesitate outside her door as the sound pierced my heart. I couldn’t leave her sobbing. Sighing, I steeled myself, then knocked gently on the door and let myself in.

She was crumpled on the floor, her head in her hands, right where I left her. Her grief is a reflection of my own.

“Danica. Oh, no!” I exclaimed, and scooped her into my arms. “Hush, now,” I murmured, my voice cracking. I sat down on the bed, cradled her in my lap, and buried my face in her hair. Closing my eyes, I inhaled her sweet scent and tightened my arms, holding her and rocking gently.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered past the knot that constricts my throat.

I wanted to help her in every way. I wanted to help this beautiful girl, this beautiful, brave girl. Her sobbing ceased, and she splayed her hand over my racing heart and held it there, I didn’t know for how long. Finally she went quiet and relaxed against me.

She had fallen asleep.

In my arms.

In the safety of my arms.

What a privilege this was...to hold a sleeping beauty.