Page 18 of Vicious Temptation

The car leaps forward, engine purring, utterly responsive to my every twitch of the wheel and bit of pressure on the gas. The speed increases, and I know better than to take my eyes off of the road as we climb to eighty, ninety, a hundred miles an hour—but I can’t stop myself from sneaking a look at Bella, wanting to see the expression on her face. If nothing else, I want to make sure she’s not sitting there in abject terror, too afraid to tell me to stop.

But she’s not. She’s sitting forward, her eyes wide, her hands gripping the edges of the seat as her lips part, and she laughs. It’s an exultant, excited sound as the speed climbs higher, the trees whipping by us on either side as I push it up to one-fifty, then one-sixty before I back off, starting to slow down before we run out of road. I slow the car to a crawl, pulling over to the side as adrenaline thumps through my veins, wanting to make sure she’s okay.

She’s breathing fast, a smile on her lips, and her eyes are bright when she looks over at me.

“Are you alright?” It feels like a rhetorical question, but I can’t stifle the need to check on her. She’s roused a strange protectiveness in me since the moment she collided with me in the hallway while crying her eyes out, and it hasn’t stopped.

Bella nods, pressing a hand to her chest. “That was incredible. It’s so smooth; it didn’t even feel like it was that fast—and it felt like we were flying at the same time. I get why you love this car.” She looks at it almost adoringly, as if she’s just realized an entirely new type of fun, her eyes still bright with it. She looks up at me, that smile still on her lips, and I feel that same jolt that I felt sitting across from her in the restaurant as she ate her dessert.

A spark, fired by the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. It skitters up my spine, warming my blood, and for a split second, the world closes in around us, and all I can look at is her mouth. Her lips are full, soft-looking, the bottom one a little fuller than the top, set in a pretty bow shape in her flawless face. Her eyes are wide, those lips parted as her breathing starts to slow, and at that moment I nearly reach for her. For that brief second, all I can think about is pressing that soft mouth to mine and finding out if she still tastes like coconut and mango from the dessert at the restaurant.

What the fuck are you thinking, Gabriel? The thought jolts through my mind at the same time that I picture Bella’s mouth on mine, and I stiffen, realizing just how far off course I’ve veered. I straighten up, forcing a smile onto my face, hoping that she didn’t just see everything I was thinking.

I told her I wasn’t interested in a relationship, offered her a job, and then took her out speeding on a back road and leered at her after pulling over afterward. Shame washes over me, hot and thick, and I swallow hard, embarrassed that I let myself spiral out of control for even that brief moment. I’m lonely, and it’s been a long time since I’ve kissed someone, but that’s no excuse.

Bella is my employee now, and if I’m thinking and acting like this already, I know I’m off to a bad start.

Maybe I should call the whole thing off. It’s not too late. The thought occurs to me as I pull back onto the road, driving at a normal speed again as I turn back in the direction that will take us to Bella’s house. If I’m already thinking about her like this?—

But it’s abundantly clear to me that she’s happy for the chance to be free of an arranged marriage for now, and more than that, excited about the prospect of what I’ve offered her as well. It’s not just the way out that she’s grabbing at; she seemed genuinely excited to meet Danny and Cecelia, and to take the position. If I back out now, I know her father will sign a contract with whoever is first in line to offer to marry her. She’ll be someone’s fiancée by the end of the week, and married in a matter of months.

I know exactly how much she doesn’t want that.

It shouldn’t matter. She’s not my responsibility. This has nothing to do with me, and it’s not my job to give her a way out, but I can’t help thinking that I can’t take this back now that I’ve made it clear I have one for her to take.

And it solves so many of my own problems, too. Problems I’ve been thinking of for a while now, and haven’t had a solution to fix. Ones that have nagged at me with guilt, with no clear answer—how to give my children what they need, how to make sure they have more than just me to care for them, how to not overburden Agnes, how to make up for the lack of a mother in their lives. Bella is at least a partial solution to so much of that.

My resolve returns as we drive, my mind rationalizing away that moment. I was professional with her until then, and I can continue to be that way now. It was a small slip, a mistake fed by my own weakness and the rush of the moment, but it won’t happen again. I won’t allow it.

I pull up in her driveway, putting the car in park, and turning towards her. “Should I arrange for someone to come and pick up your things this week, then?”

Bella hesitates, and for a moment, I think she saw what I was thinking earlier, and she’s going to tell me that she’s changed her mind. But she just nods. “Thursday. Would Thursday work? That gives me a few days to pack.”

“Thursday is fine. If anything, that’s great—you’ll have a full day on Friday while I’m gone to test-run things, and then over the weekend, we can make adjustments.” I feel some of my confidence returning as I speak, the mood returning to something that fits a business arrangement. “I’ll let Agnes know to be ready for you to move in on Thursday, then.”

Bella nods. “Okay, then.” Her voice is a little hushed, as if she can’t quite believe all this is happening. “Thank you again for the night out, Gabriel. It was really nice. I’ll—I’ll see you on Thursday, then.”

Her hand tightens on her shawl, pulling it a little closer around her, and she opens the car door and slides out. She gives me another small smile, and an awkward wave before she turns and heads for the steps of her house, a dark shape as she walks up to the porch and slips inside.

I watch until the door closes behind her, and then I put the car in gear, driving away and back to my own house.

When I get home, it’s very late, later than I’ve gotten back in a long time. The house is quiet, and I peek into the living room to see Agnes in one of the armchairs near the fireplace, her head pillowed against the side of it. My chest tightens a little as I realize she must have stayed downstairs rather than going home, so Danny and Cecelia wouldn’t be in the house alone.

I’m fortunate to have her. And she deserves a break.

I walk over, gently touching her shoulder and lightly shaking her. “I’m home, Agnes. You can head back to the cottage now.”

She sits up, rubbing a hand over her weathered face. “How did it go?” she asks, too tired to tease me. “Did she take your offer?”

I nod. “She did. She’ll be moving in Thursday.”

“Hmm.” Agnes pushes herself upright, smoothing her light grey hair back. She keeps it short, curling just above her shoulders, and it’s pinned back away from her face tonight. “Well. We’ll see how well she settles in, I suppose.”

I can tell she’s skeptical. But all I need is to see the way she stiffly gets up from the armchair, hobbling a little before she catches her stride to walk out into the hall, to know this is the right decision.

Having a live-in nanny here will prevent this exact scenario, if I’m out. Agnes should be comfortably in her own bed with Aldo, not half-asleep in an armchair after eleven at night. With Bella here, there will be someone else to make sure the kids are alright.

I wait until Agnes is on the way down the back path to her own house, and then I head upstairs for bed, exhaustion trickling through me. These last two days have taken a lot out of me, and I’m ready for Bella to be here and settled in, so we can all find a routine.

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