Page 55 of Taming Seraphine

I slide into the seat opposite. “We won’t talk about these assignments until after you’ve eaten.”

Her tension eases, and she picks up her knife and fork. We eat in silence, but I feel her gaze on me as I chew. I update her on what we’ve found out about Gabriel, and she leans forward to soak in my words without making eye contact.

Each time I glance up, she dips her head, her cheeks flaming. It’s hard to reconcile this timid creature with the little devil who held me at knifepoint while grinding on my cock. Or perhaps she’s remembering last night when she begged and pleaded for my touch.

My cock stirs at the memory of her writhing on my lap, her pussy dripping with arousal. I clench the cutlery, trying to force away that image. Our arrangement is not about my desires. Its only purpose is her training. To tame her impulses so she’s no longer destined for the electric chair. Besides, whatever she’s going to reveal next will be traumatic.

The distant rumble of traffic far below us is the only sound as we eat the rest of our breakfast. At this time of the year, Beaumont is crammed with tourists that fill the city with traffic and crowds. Up here in the penthouse, it’s quiet enough for a man to gather his thoughts.

I had planned on training Seraphine using Anton’s methods, but her situation is far more complex than mine ever was. I was never forced to follow Anton’s instructions, and I saw the man as a role model. Any reminder of my mentor might send her into a darker space. And from what I gather from yesterday’s conversation, she’s had no closure.

Seraphine never had a chance to face her abusers because I killed Capello and his sons. Anton is alive and well, but I can’t hand over a father figure for her to execute. Without him to clean up after the death of my stepfather, the state of New Alderney might have tried me in court as an adult and given me life imprisonment or the electric chair.

I owe Anton my life, but does that mean I should protect a predator?

Minutes later, she’s demolished her omelet and finished the last of her juice. I take her plate and set it to one side.

“Tell me about these assignments.” It’s not a request, but she hesitates.

Stiffening, she clenching her hands into fists. “I can’t say.”

“Can’t or won’t?” I ask, my voice gentle.

“You’ll make me leave again.”

“Seraphine.”

Her head snaps up, but she still doesn’t meet my gaze.

“Whatever they forced you to do wasn’t your fault. Do you understand?” I ask.

She clamps her eyes shut as if trying to block out the world. Her breath catches as she gasps for air. Every muscle in her body trembles in double time to the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She’s on the verge of a panic attack.

Sympathy twists my gut as I watch her struggle. I can understand her overwhelming sense of dread. I’ve never had sexual contact with anyone I assassinated. Dealing with Miko was a hundred times easier. At least we had some common ground.

“Let’s try something different,” I say.

* * *

I take Seraphine up to the rooftop terrace, an open space with panoramic views of the city. The morning sun shines down on us from a clear blue sky, drenching us in soft light. Concrete flower beds and potted shrubs break up the expanse, turning the space into an oasis of color and fragrance.

I guide her to a shaded corner of paving stones that Miko calls the chill-out zone and lower myself onto the thick mat that’s built into the floor. After indicating for her to sit cross-legged in front of me, I begin.

“Meditation is a technique that has helped me with facing the past. It’s helpful for discipline.”

She sits forward, her pretty features furrowing into a frown. “You think I can’t control myself?”

I raise both brows. “What do you think?”

Her lips pinch into a thin line and the rest of her features tighten into a scowl. “I know what it’s like to want to lash out and drain a bastard’s life with your hands, but that won’t find you Gabriel.”

“And meditation will?”

“Staying calm and detached can make the difference between success or failure.”

She raises a shoulder, still not convinced.

“Close your eyes,” I say.

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