Page 36 of Wreck Me

His fingers skim over my lower back as he ushers me into a huge hallway. Ignoring the crackling surges of electricity coursing over my skin, I soak in my temporary new home.

Where the outside of the building is archaic, inside it’s bright and modern. The floor is laid with polished marble, not entirely dissimilar to the one in the Luxor Lounge, but where that is a sleek black, this is a brilliant gleaming ivory. A huge solid wood staircase sweeps to the upper levels. Fancy artwork hangs from the wood panelled walls.

‘Wow.’ My breath whooshes from my lungs.

‘Not what you expected?’ Amusement tinges James’s tone.

‘I expected a penthouse somewhere. Something sleek and shiny and cold,’ I admit, absorbing my surroundings.

‘That’s more Killian’s style.’ James leads me through the hallway, the echoes of our shoes on the marble ringing through the otherwise silent house.

‘This is the main living area.’ He pushes open a heavy oak door. An immense fireplace dominates the far wall, its mantle carved from marble.

I can’t bear open fires. Can’t stand the sounds of the cracking and popping as the flames consume the wood. The red hot heat that radiates from it. The burning scent that steals the breath from my chest.

Any type of fire reminds me of what Jack O’Connor did to my mother. Forces me to imagine what she must have gone through at the end. Even the thought of it chills my bones and makes me want to run a mile in the other direction.

Thankfully, it’s not lit.

I close my eyes for a second, instinctively gripping my necklace.

‘Are you okay?’ James asks, placing a steadying hand on my forearm.

I blink back the images cascading through my brain. ‘Do you ever light that fire?’

‘Not usually.’ His black shiny shoe taps the floor. ‘I had underfloor heating installed a few years ago. But I can ask the servants to light it, if you’d like?’

‘No.’ The word comes out sharper than I intended. ‘Thank you.’

As my pulse comes back under control, I ask, ‘Servants?’

James shrugs. ‘You don’t think I have the time or inclination to do the dusting?’

‘I could help out,’ I offer.

‘Absolutely not.’ His head whips towards mine. ‘You have a different job.’

As James continues the tour, he takes me into a formal dining room that boasts a long oak table capable of seating twenty guests. An ornate drawing room. A games room with a full-sized snooker table. A library lined with wall-to-wall shelving overflowing with thousands of old leather-bound books.

There’s a cinema room. A gym with more equipment than a professional sports centre.

And most incredible of all, a full-sized heated outdoor swimming pool.

‘You can’t see much now, but the view is pretty spectacular in the daylight,’ James says, with a casual shrug. ‘This is your home, now. Make yourself comfortable. Use it how you want. Unfortunately, the businesses take me away a lot, so you’ll usually have the run of the place. I want you to be happy here.’

It’s phenomenal.

‘I’ll show you your room.’ His dark eyes twinkle.

‘My room?’ I repeat like a moron.

‘Yes, Scarlett,yourroom.’ He flicks off the lights and closes the door to the pool. His hand settles on my lowerback again. ‘I know I said you could have your pick, but trust me, you’ll love this one.’

James leads me through the wide corridors back to the staircase. Suddenly I’m bone tired, the weight of the events of the day catching up with me. ‘What about my stuff?’

‘Tim brought it up already.’

‘Does he live here?’ My feet sink into the plush carpet upstairs as we walk side-by-side to the sleeping quarters.

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