Page 7 of A Seductive Beauty
We pull up behind my main night club, and I open my door myself. I noticed as we drove around it’s packed for a Monday night. We make our way through the back entrance, and I take the stairs by twos to my office that overlooks the main floor. As I look out the one-way glass, I see many women. Most of them sexy, some even blonde, but none are Fiona. Maybe I should head down to the floor and move amongst them. I head out and Shane follows me. I know if I suggest he stay back he won’t. In the last year there have been numerous attempts on my life.
Bodies move around to the loud music. Women move their hips in a suggestive manner, and still my cock stays flaccid. I fecking can’t have Fiona and that’s what it wants. At the bar, I order a whiskey and check in with the manager.
“Hello, handsome,” a purr comes from behind me. I turn and take in the dark-haired woman as she moves seductively. Her black dress barely covers her arse or her knockers. I look for a moment, but when her hand brushes my chest, my body recoils from her. “Want to party?”
“Not interested.” I lift her hand off me and turn her around as I give her the cold shoulder.
“Fecking arsehole.” She curses at me and I smile. Women call me an arsehole most of the time, but most everyone calls me a beast. I’m not as big as Shane in height but just as muscular. People don’t call me beast because of my size though, they call me that because of my attitude. I don’t like most people. I very rarely come down to the floor, and when I do, this is what usually happens. I’m not a priest, but I’m very discreet, and at this moment, I don’t have a current partner. I wish that would help, but it’s looking like Fiona is the only woman my cock wants.
Chapter Three
Fiona
Kayla woke up after four days of being unconscious. I went up to the hospital several times and saw her. Then yesterday, two weeks after her accident, they unexpectedly flew back to Surrey, to their family home. Dani stopped by and checked on me but didn’t tell me what was going on. I’m tired of everyone thinking I’m too frail or weak and can’t take the truth about what’s happening to them. I pound the dough for the loaf, taking my aggression out on it. I don’t normally make bread. I do the fine pastries and cakes, but today I asked if I could make some loaves to get this energy out.
For a couple weeks now I’ve felt like someone is following me. I can’t see them, but I can feel them. It’s weird, but the hair on the back of my neck rises all the time. I’m deep in thought and into kneading the dough when my phone goes off next to me, startling me. I hold in my scream. The name that scrawls across the screen makes me take a couple of fortifying breathes before I answer it.
“Hello, Mum.” I try to keep my voice even. This is the first time she’s called me in over three years. I haven’t heard from her since the day she and my dad told me I was dead to them, all because I was going to culinary arts school instead of finishing school to prepare for a marriage to a titled man.
“Fiona, darling. I was wondering if we could have dinner in the next couple of weeks.”
No “Hello. How are you? How have you been?” None of that. Just “Let’s have dinner.”
“I’m busy for a couple of weeks, but I can try to fit you in after next Friday. Mikayla wants me to attend a couple parties with her.” I shouldn’t have said anything to her, but I don’t want her to think I’m available and just brushing her off.
“Interesting that you would still be attending those functions when you’re just a commoner now.” The dig hurts. I wasn’t titled before, but my family has money. They left me with none though. Every bit of money I make now pays my bills, just like everyone else in this world.
“Mum, Kayla doesn’t care about that.”
“Well then. I’ll contact you after next Friday and we can decide when would be a good time to have dinner.”
“Why?”
“Fiona, don’t be ridiculous. You’re our daughter and we want to spend time with you.” Her voice is so haughty sounding. She hangs up, and I set my mobile back down and resume kneading the dough, trying not to think about what they could possibly want with dinner.
Hours later I’m walking home after work. The feeling of being watched overtakes me again and I decide not to head home. I make my way down the next block toward the gym. I’m able to practice kickboxing that Kayla got me into there. I enter and sign in, then make my way to the dressing room where I change into gear I leave in my locker sometimes.
I hit the bag, then hold it with my fingerless quick-wrap gloves as I bring a knee up into it. My abs curl and I feel the burn across them. I’ve been going at this for an hour after doing hanging crunches. I let go of the bag and pivot away before I spin back and leap into a kick at it. When I drop to the ground, I’m breathing heavily, and my hair is stuck to my head. I stand up and raise my sore arms above my head as I take big breaths to help control my breathing. For as small as I am, I can defend myself because of Kayla. I shower at the gym before I head home, feeling better than I did earlier. Stepping through the door of my flat into the entrance hall, I see a piece of paper on the floor. I pick it up and find my name written on it. I continue to the living room where I hang my jacket on one of the hooks before I step into the kitchen.
“Howya doin?” Moira is standing at the counter with a cup in her hand. She has a thicker accent than I do. My parents didn’t let me use a lot of slang.
“Hello.” I nod.
“What you got there?” She points at the paper in my hand.
“I don’t know, it was in the entry.” I open the folded paper and my blood runs cold.
I’ll touch you someday and you will adore it.
“What the bloody feck is that?” Moira was raised with brothers and doesn’t care that she’s effin’ and blindin’. She likes to curse. She pulls the paper from my hand and flips it around. “You have a bloody stalker, Fi.”
“What’s going on?” Brigid walks in. She’s dressed in a pair of pajama pants and a loose tank top. At five-foot-six, she is taller than both of us. Her red hair a complete contrast to Moira’s dark brown and my blonde.
“Fi has a stalker.” Moira waves the paper around.
“You going to call the coppers?” Giselle walks in behind Brigid. She is the same height as Brigid and has light brown hair and green eyes. She’s even quieter than me most times.
“I don’t think it’s anything important.” I shrug it off and take the note. “I’m going up to bed, I’m knackered. I took a shower at the gym and have to be at the shop early.” I move past all of them. The only one missing from the group is Arianna, who is on shift at the hospital.
