Page 52 of Violent Delights

Chapter 32

Joseph

She shouldn’t be here. Every part of me knows that she shouldn’t be here. I’m breaking the rules in a way that’s ten times worse than anything she has ever done.

But I cannot help myself.

With these girls, I’ve always done whatever came to me. I’ve always followed whatever intrinsic wish I felt like, not holding myself to any rules, only them. The rules exist because I know what I want and what I don’t want at any given time.

So, in a way, I’m still following that rule. I’m doing something I want to do, something that feels right to do with her. As Ruby walks quietly next to me, so pretty, I’m surprised to find myself wanting exactly this. I want to see her in casual clothes, and I want to do casual, everyday things with her.

It’s nothing to be afraid of. In a way, it can be expected after all this time. I’ve never done this, I’ve never had the girlfriend experience. It’s new to me, exotic almost. Trying out new things has always filled me with the thrill I need, the thrill I need to maintain balance.

So what if my newest adventure is being normal, normal like an ordinary person?

She’s tense as she walks next to me, her eyes wandering at everything around her as we make our way down the stairs. It’s hard to tell whether she’s just looking around out of curiousity, or if she’s looking for ways to get away. She knows she shouldn’t even try anything of that sort because it would make our contract null and void. Everything she has done so far would be mean nothing, she wouldn’t receive her compensation, and she wouldn’t get far legally either, if that was her aim.

But she’s still playing her part to perfection. As real as her terror was in the beginning, I can’t risk that she may be thinking about trying to escape.

When we reach the first floor and I lead her to the kitchen and dining area, her gaze turns to plain amazement as she takes in the high-ceilinged room. Bright sunlight is shafting through the wide french doors and floor-length windows, bathing the area in its warm light, while the frost-covered grass outside is a clear indication of the crisp temperatures. The amount of light filtering through the windows coats the entire kitchen in an ethereal glow.

“Wow,” she breathes. “This is beautiful!”

She’s right. This room has always been my grandmother’s favorite place, and I can see why. The French-style kitchen is decorated in mostly ivory colors, with only the counter tops making a stark contrast with their dark gray granite finish.

I cannot remember the last time I had someone else down here. I don’t entertain in this house, unless it’s for a business meeting, and those are usually held in the reception hall. The only other person who’s down here on a regular basis is my main maid Marjory. But she has only been here once since I took Ruby in, and that was just to quickly clean the lower floors, something she hurried to do while I paced up and down the halls, nervous about having one of my staff here while I have a slave upstairs. Marjory knows about the situation, at least partially, and she’s only allowed entry to the house because I can count on her discretion.

It still makes me nervous to know that she’s coming by today while I’m out of the house. It’s simply a matter of bad timing because I promised her that she could have a week off after this so she can go see her newest grandson, and at that point, I didn’t know I would have this meeting in town today, of all days.

It’ll be okay. Why wouldn‘t it be? Even if Ruby notices someone else is in the house, why would she cause any trouble? I convince myself that it will all be okay and that she won‘t scream like hell if she thinks the maid will help her escape.

“Sit,” I tell her, pointing toward the dining table that’s already laid out for us. “And stay seated.”

She casts me a cautious look before she obliges and sits in one of the chairs.

“Can I help you somehow?” she asks when she sees me rummaging through the kitchen, but I tell her no.

“You just sit, and I’ll be there in a minute.”

I prepare the same food she’s been eating for breakfast since she arrived. Incidentally, it’s my favorite breakfast, a very rich and hearty meal, perfect for after an exhausting workout. I usually get my workout out of the way in the morning and hardly ever miss a day. I need it to stay fit, and installing a home gym was one of the first things I did when I moved in here.

I place the usual portion of bacon, eggs, toast, and avocado in front of her, as well as a carafe of steaming coffee.

She’s visibly confused by this and looks at me as if I have lost my mind. Maybe I have.

“Let me at least pour the coffee,” she says, just as I’m about to reach for the carafe.

I have to laugh at her eagerness to serve me. I may be able to train her more thoroughly than I originally thought.

“Go ahead,” I tell her, beckoning for her to pour our coffees.

She casts me a grateful smile, and I watch as she serves the savory brew.

“So is that your new thing now?” she asks, changing to a sassy tone I haven’t heard from her before. “Are we pretending to be a couple now?”

Her question angers and amuses me at the same time. It shouldn’t surprise me that this puzzles her, but I don’t like her making fun of me.

“Don’t get cocky with me,” I say, casting her a warning look. “I told you, good girls get a treat.”

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