Chapter 12

Sara

Easton's actions had kept me awake part of the night but somewhere around three in the morning, I'd been forced to admit to myself I'd been thrilled he'd come to my defense. Other than my brothers, no one had done that before. But now, I needed to shove the night aside.

A new job.

I'd had several in my life, including working on my parents' farm when I was too young to work anywhere else. I'd learned the meaning of hard work and getting my hands dirty. I'd never minded in the least, but as I'd gotten older, I'd wanted to be like the other kids, working a fast-food job or even at a clothing store.

The diner had been home for almost the entire four years since I'd arrived. I'd been allowed leniency with going home most summers at least for a few weeks, which had been nice since Ashleigh didn't need to keep me on.

But this felt like the first real grown-up job I'd been offered. I had sent resumes out to various newspapers but with a creative writing degree, not journalism, I had a feeling none of them would bite. I hadn't cut ties with Ashleigh just in case this didn't work out. Somehow, I knew it would.

Even if I couldn't seem to stop shaking.

After glancing at the vase of roses I'd carefully protected in the passenger seat, surprised they were in the same incredible condition as when I'd received them days before, I sighed. This was my one opportunity to really grasp and accomplish a personal goal, to try to find the darkness that had been pent up inside of me, expressing words that could easily draw people into my ominous world. Maybe I was being a little melodramatic, but it fit the situation.

As I climbed out, I realized I felt more nervous than I'd thought I would. Just being in the man's world would be so intense. I knew it. I could feel it in my bones. I had a swarm of butterflies in my stomach, my legs feeling useless. My self-confidence was also low, which honestly surprised me. I was going to kick ass and take names later.

Or so I'd told myself a half dozen times.

Every step cautious, I continued to glance at his house. There was no reason to be frightened. His gorgeous estate was far removed from a gothic Victorian mansion that every Hitchcock movie or horror flick had in them. The exterior was well coiffed, the landscape and grass pristine. It was the kind of home I'd purchase, inviting and warm. The man obviously spent a lot of money on a landscaping service to keep his home the nicest one in the neighborhood.

I stood outside, thankful it was early morning and that I'd arrived on time. At least he'd already given me my grade, an A minus. Okay, that had surprised me a little bit since I'd put my heart and soul into the piece, but I knew I still had nuances about crime scenes to learn.

When I approached the front, I took a deep breath before knocking on the door. This time, I was surprised that a lovely older woman opened it instead of the master of the house.

"You must be Mr. Saint's guest, Sara Adams."

"Actually, his new employee. I wouldn't consider myself a guest at all."

She smiled. "Nonsense. Mr. Saint never has anyone to his house so you must be very special. I'm Milly. Mr. Saint asked if I'd make certain your rooms were ready, and food was purchased."

"Where is Mr. Saint?"

"At his office in the city."

"What office?"

She smiled and motioned for me to come in. "He's the chief financial officer of the Saint Corporation."

That I hadn't read or paid any attention to, concentrating instead on seeing if any of the accusations about him and his brothers were true. However, I'd believed his two brothers were in charge of the weapons corporation. Maybe I didn't know the man at all. "Oh, okay. When will he be back? Should I come later?"

"Nonsense. Come in and Mr. Saint will return later this afternoon. Let's get you settled."

In one hand was my lone suitcase. In the other was my duffle holding my most prized possession, my laptop and all its accessories. The house was even more glorious in the daytime, something out of a magazine, not nearly as gothic as I'd envisioned after being in his office. The stairs were curved, the railings made of steel with twisted rope-style posts. Every light fixture was modern yet not cold in design.

As I was led to the second floor, I realized there was a third, which I hadn't paid attention to before. That must be the floor where his bedroom was located, not that I cared.

Or should even think about.

"Here are your adjoining two rooms complete with a very large bathroom." Milly opened the door, allowing me to walk inside. I placed my bags on the floor, unable to keep a soft mew from slipping past my lips.

The space was meant for an adult princess, the massive king-sized bed covered in a stunning ivory goose-down comforter. There were two overstuffed leather chairs flanking a gorgeous floor-to-ceiling window, the type you wanted to sit down in front of and read for hours on end. There was a set of French doors leading to what appeared to be a balcony complete with a stunning glass-top iron table, a bright red umbrella, and four chairs with matching red cushions.

I moved to the bathroom next, trying not to squeal. God. I was so used to using a tiny little space with a shower I could barely fit into that the luxuriousness of the incredible room complete with double sinks, a soaking tub, and extra-large walk-in marble shower was mind boggling.

"Oh, my God. The rooms are gorgeous."

"I'm glad you approve," she said, her smile widening. "Mr. Saint was meticulous in the design as you've likely discovered he is with everything else. Before I show you the office, here is your house key, which will open everything. There is a security system, the keypad located at both the front door and the one inside the kitchen. Please remember to arm and disarm accordingly. I have the code in a note on your desk. Now, let me show you your office."

"My office." Just saying the words out loud was thrilling. As she opened another door, waiting to see my reaction, I was unable to hold back a squeal. From the two oversized windows to the massive glass and steel desk and amazing executive leather chair to the bookshelves filled with dozens of incredible smelling books, I was certain I'd died and gone to heaven.

"I think you'll have everything you need. Mr. Saint did ask that I provide you with the WEP key and the access for the internet, which of course you'll need. I left them in a note on your desk as well. The printer is new and there is a network, which I've made notations about. Here is your key to the house. The house and grounds you are free to access, including the pool and pool house. I come by twice a week to clean and to see if Mr. Saint needs anything. Other than that, I think you're all set. Feel free to bring in your things and make the rooms what you'd like. Oh, yes. There is a media room down the hall with movies and music. And a second bedroom, although I don't think you'll be needing that. And you have a laundry chute in your bathroom for towels and your clothes if you'd like me to wash them for you."

"I think I can handle my own laundry. My mama taught me how when I was eight."

She smiled as if I'd just made her day. "A fine woman then."

"Yes, she is and I really appreciate all you've done."

"You're entirely welcome. Mr. Saint did leave you a note as well. I hope you enjoy your stay. As directed by Mr. Saint, please feel free to partake in food and beverages, including his expansive wine collection. If there are any special foods you'd like, just let me know. Otherwise, enjoy your working vacation."

Working vacation. Somehow, I doubted the man was going to allow me to get away with vacationing. I laughed at the thought.

"I'm certain I will enjoy every moment of being here."

She acted as if she was going to leave then stopped and I was certain she had something else to tell me.

"Milly? Is something wrong?"

"No, Miss Adams. It's just that Mr. Saint is a very private man with good reason. Try and remember that. He can be… formidable when his rules are broken."

How was someone supposed to take that? I wasn't entirely certain. What back story did she want to tell me but was terrified he would learn? "I'll keep that in mind and please call me Sara. Otherwise, you'll make me feel like my mother."

Now she had me curious to search his home. Were the stories about the man and his brothers true to any degree?

I waited until she left to turn around in a full circle, throwing my fist into the air. This was like a dream come true. Time to unwind, unpack, and wait for my employer to arrive home.

Home.

I had to remind myself this wasn't my home, just an insanely amazing temporary landing spot.

It took me all of thirty minutes to bring everything in, the roses being the very first thing. I'd placed them carefully on my dresser where I could see them when I went to bed and first thing in the morning. I couldn't help but allow my gaze to remain on the colored water for a few additional seconds. I made mental note to ask what he'd added, a miracle concoction.

While unpacking, I realized just how little I'd brought from home, even more what I hadn't purchased after spending four years of my life in Chicago. After another thirty minutes, I'd been into the system, finding a few files while others were locked down tight.

I'd so wanted an advance look on notes or ideas, even an outline of the book, but I assumed I would only be rewarded with that if…

If I was a good girl.

With little else to do but wait, I meandered downstairs, equally impressed with the rest of the house and the grounds. The pool was dazzling, although I didn't have a swimsuit. I'd never been much for the water. Maybe I'd learn to swim this summer as well. The backyard was surrounded by huge trees, but there was an expansive amount of rolling green grass, the kind in the summer back home I used to roll in while staring up at the stars.

For some silly reason, I had to wonder if someone as serious as Easton Saint had even walked on fresh grass in his bare feet. I doubted it but made a mental note to ask. Oh, he would love that.

I made my way into the kitchen, noticing the second keypad for the system. It was armed, which meant when Milly had left, she'd done so. Why did it suddenly feel as if I was locked inside?

While it was a little early for wine, grabbing a bottle of water instead, I did peruse his choices, pleasantly surprised at his collection of some of the finest wines in the world. The man would appear to have expensive tastes. After glancing at every other room downstairs, I found myself standing outside his closed office door.

I'd just glanced at his note, which was mostly about timing over the next couple of days. I didn't see where he'd said his office was off limits. Besides, he'd spanked and fucked me inside only a few days before. Right?

I rolled my eyes before turning the lever, half surprised to find it unlocked. I already gathered a sense the man was very private and not just because of what Milly had suggested.

Maybe he really did have things to hide.

Once inside the room, I was struck by the awe and magnificence of it, the scope and size of the room ginormous. Most impressive were the floor to vaulted ceiling bookshelves filled with not dozens but hundreds of books. The downstairs ceilings were so tall, he had a wooden ladder placed against one of the bookshelves. It was picture perfect for the office I wanted one day. I turned around in a full circle, thinking I'd died and gone to heaven.

I'd coveted my paperbacks as a kid, savoring every purchase I'd been able to make. That had allowed me to know I was destined to be a writer.

Or so I'd hoped.

My God. He had books for every aspect of writing about crime. I could not believe the number of volumes, the incredible information more enticing than any moment of passion could be. I ran my fingers from one to another, drinking in the atmosphere as an alcoholic would consume liquor. No one could understand the excitement building from deep within, the need to learn more about the human psyche, to answer the question as to why some people could take another life so easily. I'd read a few books, most I'd checked out from the library, but his vast collection made my mouth water.

As I took out one, I glanced toward the door, fearful he'd find me. But I couldn't resist opening the pages, touching them in reverence. Some areas were marked with Post-it notes and a few passages underlined in red ink.

Like blood.

The sinful thought kept my mouth dry and my mind full of ideas for my story, the one that had stalled because I was diligent about getting details correct. I did a little happy dance before sliding it back in its place. This was going to be so much fun.

I breathed in deeply, barely able to contain my joy. As I floated around the room, touching everything, I somehow ended up flopping down in Easton's incredibly comfortable leather chair. I spun one direction then the other before spinning it all the way around to the window. This was a little slice of heaven.

Soon, less than a minute later, a jolt of raw and white-hot lightning rushed through me, so strong I momentarily couldn't breathe. But I knew he was here, in this room. Right now.

And the electricity I'd felt before was even stronger, stealing my breath and leaving me trembling.

"What are you doing in my private space and more important, why is it that you refuse to follow my rules?"