Page 3 of Blazing Desires
Unfortunately for me, daddy dearest doesn’t correct the false information about me having anything to do with it. And when your guard is dragged from your room while doing his usualsweep, while happening to be checking your bed at the time, the story has every chance of going awry.
Part of me suspects that my father planted the story himself—it wouldn’t be the first time he’s done something like that to deflect negative attention coming his way. What better than a story where he plays the hero, rescuing his daughter from the hands of a man twenty years my senior, saving her from being labelled a whore?
Noel’s nasally voice interrupts my thoughts “Mr. Elodie wants you in his office, immediately. I suggest you get a move on before he gives you a matching bruise on the other side of that pretty little face of yours. Better yet, he might even let me do it.”
He swings his right fist toward my face making me flinch backwards, and his shrill laugh fills the corridor at my reaction. He’s never hit me, but he always enjoys making me flinch or squirm in his presence.
“One day I’ll get my turn, and there will be nothing you can do to stop it,whore.”
He sneers at me, his barely-there top lip curling. I straighten and pull my door closed behind me, resisting the urge to smooth my hands on the sides of my leggings. I don’t want to show the snivelly bastard how much he scares me. I wait for him to turn and lead the way, allowing a few paces between us before my feet move to follow.
My room is on the top floor of our sprawling mansion. It’s set on six acres of lush green land with three stories, eight bedrooms, fourteen bathrooms, a cinema room, a pool, and a fully equipped indoor gym. It’s beautifully decorated if you have an affinity for the Roaring Twenties. My mother had been obsessed with the era since she was a child.
We descend the twenty-six steps to the ground floor–I count them every time I make my way down, a habit I picked up to dispel the anxiety this route gives me. We make our way down along hall to my father's office, tucked away in the house’s right wing, the only room in the house not touched by my mother’s décor choice. It’s all dark leather and wooden furniture, with a large and ornate fireplace that dominates the room. I hate it—my father loves to lean against the mantle while spouting his lessons on how I should behave before doling out his punishment for whichever of his rules I’veallegedlybroken.
Noel knocks on the office door, short and sharp.
“Enter.”
My father’s booming voice is loud even with the door muffling the sound. Noel twists the large knob and pushes the door open, not stepping inside as he addresses my dad.
“Davina is here for you, Sir.”
God, I wish I could punch him square in his oversized nose. Maybe that would fix the nasal pitch—or, better yet, make him choke on his own blood and change the butt-licking attitude he has towards my father.
“Davina, sweetheart,” my father says, his mouth twisting into a smile. “Come in, meet your new guard and shadow. This is Blaze.”
Noel holds the door and motions for me to enter with his free hand, his sneer following me in. I step into my father’s office, standing as close as I can to the door as Noel closes it. It shuts with a sharp click, and I notice how deathly quiet the room is. I lift my eyes to see why it has fallen so silent.
My eyes land on the most devastatingly beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He’s easily six feet tall, and every part of his body is clearly packed with muscle. My eyes start at his feet and traverse up his body. It’s a habit I’ve formed from learning the hard way that looking at a man directly in his eyes can land you with a few broken ribs.
His polished black combat boots shine in the light, tactical trousers tucked into them which hug his narrow hips, the man’sthighs filling every bit of the material. A black long-sleeved t-shirt with the sleeves pushed up is tucked into his trousers, showing his deliciously toned forearms, crossed over his chest and covered in tattoos and veins that stand out from the muscle. His broad chest and shoulders are clearly defined through the material of his shirt in a way that screams strength.
I’d love to get that shirt off and study him.
As my eyes travel toward his face, I stop myself from going any further than his full pink lips, the hint of a beard on his sharp jaw, and his perfectly straight nose. If I look into his eyes, I’ll see the same disdain every new guard holds for me, and I don’t have it in me to have another man look at me that way. I’ve had my fill from my father and his goons over the years, and my interaction with Noel this morning cements my decision. I lower my gaze to his chin. It's best to keep my eyes down and my mouth shut.
“Nice to meet you, Blaze.” I try to keep my voice clear even as the testosterone practically bounces off the walls of the stuffy room. I wait for his response, but nothing comes. The silence becomes awkward, so I risk a glance at his eyes to see why he isn’t responding.
I wish I hadn’t. The anger raging in those eyes has me backing up a step. Everything about the man is screamingpredator.I try to tear my eyes away from his like I know I should, but I’m fixated. His green eyes lure me in and it’s like peering into the densest forest of evergreens. I can’t stop myself from holding his gaze.
But he breaks our locked gaze, his eyes flicking to my retreating feet and back to my face. His jaw ticks, the muscles on his biceps flexing as he continues to stare. Goosebumps break out on my skin, my heartbeat ratcheting up in speed.
I clasp my hands behind my back in case they tremble with nerves, I’ve tried to suppress obvious signs of fear over the yearsin front of my father and the other guards, knowing it only thrills them to see the power they have over me. I won’t give this man ammo, even if he sparks the most fear in me. His eyes land back on mine.
“Hello, Davina.”
His gravelly voice caresses my ears, settling against my mind and stoking a flame that I thought had died. He says my name in a way that promises to end me, but there’s no way to stop my reaction.
Goosebumps erupt on my arms as I suppress a shiver. A flush creeps over my face and I hope it isn’t too noticeable. If anything, it might look like the pretty bruise my father gifted me is spreading.
I’m delusional.
Chapter 2
Ignite the Embers
Blaze
