Page 64 of Stolen Love

He shifts aside and I step into his office. The rectangular room is decked out almost entirely in black, from the bookshelves that line the wall behind his desk to the matching client chairs that sit in front of it.

At the other end of the room there’s a modern sofa with round arms and no back. In front of that is a smoke-tinted glass topped table.

A small bar is built into the wall, complete with glasses and decanters of no doubt top shelf liquors.

The sound of the door clicking shut makes me jump. I hope he doesn’t notice the way my shoulders tensed. Or the claw marks I’m leaving in the center of my palms.

Jackson takes a vigilant but relaxed stance near the door.

“Where is it?” I ask.

“How about something to drink?” He moves to his desk and picks up his phone. “Sigourney, can I get a pot of coffee? Oh and an assortment of those creamers. Thank you.”

“That wasn’t necessary.” He has a great view of the street. I can see the Range Rover at the pavement from right here. Did he see me from this window? Was it him I could sense watching me this entire time? “I’m not staying long.”

“Of course.” He takes a seat on his desk. His fingers move over the curved edge almost nervously.

I guess Jackson is enough to make him uncomfortable, which might work against me if I can’t get him to forget that my bodyguard is in the room. Fortunately the man is good at blending in with his environment.

Nathanial crosses his legs at the ankle. “Your friend isn’t with you today?”

“It didn’t seem appropriate.”

“How so?” The lines around his eyes crinkle with his smile. They make him appear friendly and kind. It reminds me of the way I used to see him. Before I knew better.

"You know why.” I let the heartbreak I’m feeling seep into my tone. Let him believe I’ve given up and that I plan to come to him willingly.

The warmth in his face falters, the friendly lines flattening before he fixes his smile on more firmly. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” As much as I want to ignore his comment and the way my skin crawls like I’m covered in ants, I smile for him. I want this reaction. It’s why I dressed the way I did. Why I took extra time on my makeup and hair. I want to distract him. I want to lull him into feeling confident. I want him to slip up and tell me something that will end this nightmare. “The contract?”

“Right.” He moves his bone colored chair, the only hint of color in the room, out of the way and unlocks the bottom drawer of his desk. He pulls out a file and slides it across the desk to me. He keeps his hand on top of it. “Ivy, you know that I only have your best interests at heart.”

He doesn’t remove his hold until I feign acceptance with a nod. When he withdraws his hand, I pick up the contract and take a seat on the couch.

He sits beside me. Too close for comfort. I’m hyperaware of the way he watches me while I scour the pages. Of the way he leans his head toward mine, his eyes following the words too.

My eyebrows climb up my forehead. It’s all there. Everything he’s told me. My dad had plans in motion for me to marry Nathaniel. He had a trust set up to pay for the wedding. Nathaniel was to receive a wage every single year like some character from a Jane Austen novel.

But it’s the why that makes it real. I cover my mouth with my hand as I read the provision that he was to take over guardianship in the event that I wasn’t mentally able to take care of myself. My dad was trying to look after me because the daughter he knew was definitely not at a place where she could look after herself. And he must have known Nicole was a danger to us by then. He just didn’t realize Nathaniel was too.

“You see, Ivy.” He cautiously pats my knee before allowing his hand to settle there. “This is what your dad wanted for you. This is what he knew you needed.”

His touch repulses me. I fight my desire to rush out of his office. Right now I need information and if that means I have to allow him to paw me, I can handle it.

“I understand why my dad thought it was a good idea.” I turn my knees toward him. Angle in like I welcome his attention.

I warned Jackson on the way over here. Explained that he wasn’t to intervene unless I couldn’t control the situation myself. All it will take is one word from me if I feel unsafe, but there is a vast difference between disgust and fear.

Nathaniel’s nostrils flare and his eyes round. He can’t be certain I’m coming around, but he’s hopeful.

“You’ve seen how far I’ve come, though, don’t you?” I ask. “How much I’ve grown since my days in Sunny. Dr. Keller has helped me so much.”

His pupils have darkened and he seems fixated on where his hand still rests on my knee.

God, I am going to need to take a hot shower and to scrub every inch a hundred times for my skin to stop crawling.

He clears his throat. “You’ve grown into quite the woman, Ivy. Beautiful.”

---