Chapter Two

Curt

I stare pensively outside my study window at the vast expanse of land that stretches out before me. My thoughts are scattered, much like the unruly winds that sweep across the open fields.

"I'm sorry to spring this on you," Amelia says quietly behind me, her tone contrite.

I turn around to study her face, narrowing my eyes suspiciously at her. "I should have known you had an agenda when you volunteered to help me find a maid."

"I honestly just wanted to help," she replies, then shrugs. "Look, you need a help, London needs a job. It's a win-win situation."

"No, it's not. I didn't ask you to find me a roommate. You know how much I hate people in my space."

An unreadable expression crosses her face, but it's gone before I can make sense of it. "Aren't you tired?"

"Of what?"

"Being alone in your space," she replies, meeting my gaze with a steely determination. "It's been so long."

At this moment, I wish I had a glass of strong brandy to wash away the anxiety clogging up my chest, the baseless fear that's been rearing its head in the past few months. I never used to mind being alone, but these days, the possibility of never filling up this hollowness in my chest has been seeming like a threat, one that sometimes scares the hell out of me.

"Things are fine just as they are," I say, keeping my voice leveled despite the tightness in my chest. "There's no need to stir things up."

Amelia sighs, her expression defeated. "Okay, then do it as a favor to me. Please?"

"Why do you seem so intent on this?" I ask, still searching her face. "Why is your best friend in my house as a live-in maid?"

There's got to be a reason that neither of them is willing to reveal, one I'm not sure I'm willing to accommodate. I wonder briefly if it'd be better to let it go and turn a blind eye just this once. Knowing Amelia, she wouldn't do anything without a good cause.

Besides, I'll do anything for her anyway.

"All I can say is that London desperately needs this job," Amelia says, her eyes pleading for me not to press on. "Can you let her stay, please?"

"I don't know…." I mumble hesitantly, shaking my head.

"Please, big bro," she says, widening her eyes like a begging puppy. "You know London; she grows on you."

"I don't know London," I respond, rolling my eyes at her. "At least, not enough to vouch for her character," I add when she rolls her eyes back at me.

Amelia laughs and shakes her head. "I know we were just little girls when you moved out, but how could you not recognize London? She's my best friend; we've always been joined at the hip."

I shrug, looking away from Amelia's probing gaze to stare outside the window once again in a bid to gather my thoughts.

"She's changed so much," I mumble, almost to myself.

She's no longer the freckle-faced seven-year-old girl who used to smile shyly at me whenever she came to visit. No, she's bloomed into a gorgeous woman with sinful curves that'd instantly stirred my blood the moment I laid eyes on her. I'd been hit by an instant wave of attraction, one that seemed to only grow unbelievably deeper in those few minutes that I spoke with her. Perhaps it's the childlike innocence about her… and that subtle sensuality that she seems totally oblivious to.

Now that I've found out that she's my little sister's best friend – one whom I'm eighteen years older than, at that – I realize how futile it is to dwell on whatever I might have felt earlier.

There's no way I'd act on it anyway.

"Four weeks," I say, turning around to pin Amelia with a leveled gaze. "That's how long I'm letting this go on for."

"But, Curt…"

"Whatever this is," I interrupt quietly, "figure it out within a month."

My decision is final. Amelia must have realized that, because she nods solemnly with a defeated sigh.

"Thank you," she mutters quietly, her lips curling in a slight, albeit genuine, smile. "I mean it."

"Anything for you, muffin."

Chapter Three

London

"Figure it out within a month…"

Curt's words echo in my head as I stir the batter for the pancakes that I'm making for breakfast. I didn't get a wink of sleep all night; the words kept churning in my head.

I hadn't meant to eavesdrop on Curt and Amelia's conversation, but I'd been restless after they excused themselves to the study. I'd felt an urgent need to know my fate, and before I could stop myself, I was already in the hallway with my ear plastered to the study door.

Their voices were faint but, I'd heard his declaration loud and clear. Those words especially stood out, cutting through the air like a sharp blade aimed directly at my throat.

I have four weeks to convince my boss that I'm worth having around. I'd do anything to extend my stay; I can't leave… Not in four weeks.

At least, not until that monster is behind bars.

I quickly finish up with the pancakes, scramble some eggs, and make toast, all at a stretch. Then I set the table for one and glance at my watch; it's half past eight. According to the schedule that Amelia gave to me, Curt was supposed to be down for breakfast thirty minutes ago.

I glance towards the stairs, wondering whether I should go up or wait down here. Going up could be overstepping my bounds, while staying down here could mean that I don't know my duties.

I'd rather go with the former.

Forcefully swallowing the gnawing fear in my chest, I make my way up the stairs and to his room. I take a deep breath before rapping my knuckles against the door. There's no response the first time, so I knock again. And again.

I frown slightly, considering the possible reasons he's not answering the door when I'm certain he's inside. It's a workday, so it doesn't make sense that he's sleeping in. Several dangerous scenarios suddenly flood my head, causing my stomach to knot up with anxiety.

Ignoring the little voice of warning at the back of my head, I push open the door and walk into the large, airy room just as a smaller door inside is being pulled open.

Curt walks out of what looks to be the bathroom, and a strangled gasp escapes my throat.

He's completely naked!

Water drips from his incredibly hot, sculpted body to the ground, pooling at his feet. He's gaping at me, his features frozen in shock. He's clutching a fluffy-looking towel over his crotch.

My eyes have gone wide and it feels like my whole body is on fire from embarrassment. I sputter wordlessly, trying to think above the roar in my head. Despite keeping my gaze fixated on his face, I feel like I've captured his naked image in that one split second – a picture that won't leave my head in a million years.

I must seem like I'm about to faint at any minute, because his features morph from shock to concern. "Are you alright, Amelia?"

The sound of my name jars me out of my daze.

I spin around and dash out of the room as fast as my legs can carry me. I run down the long corridor and the stairs until I get to the kitchen. I slump against the counter, closing my eyes as I struggle to catch my breath. The image of his naked body rises, unbidden, in my head, causing me to snap my eyes open.

I fist my hands against the desire to run out of the house and never return.

I have nowhere to go anyway…

I start to clean the kitchen, wiping every surface over and over again; anything to take my mind off the incident in Curt's room. I'm running a wet rag over the kitchen island for the third time when Curt walks in. My heart slams hard against my chest and settles into a fast-paced, uneven thud. He's fully clothed now, yet all I can see are his ripped muscles, shimmering with droplets of water.

He stops a few feet away from where I'm standing, looking a little ill at ease.

"About that…"

"I didn't see anything!" I say quickly, my voice coming out in an embarrassing shriek. I clear my throat, shifting uncontrollably on my feet. "I mean… I saw, but I… We can pretend I didn't… I swear it wasn't intentional. I just wanted… I'm sorry," I say finally, pressing my lips together to prevent myself from rambling further.

"It's fine, I guess," he mutters, scratching his head awkwardly.

There's an unusual timidity about him, one that reminds me of the sweet young man of the past, the one that starred in my girlish fantasies. A warm feeling starts in my stomach, spreading slowly until it settles cozily in my chest.

"I'm sorry I won't be having breakfast," he says, finally breaking the tense silence that seems to have enveloped us.

He must have seen my expression fall, because he hesitates slightly, searching my face. "This, um… has nothing to do with what happened earlier. I'm really just late."

I nod wordlessly, my chest tightening with a strange emotion. Maybe it's the earnestness in his voice or the subtle tenderness in his steely gray eyes, but... for some reason, I believe him.

"Have a great day. Sir," I add as an afterthought, nervously wringing the napkin in my hands.

"Curt," he says after a momentary stretch of silence. "Just call me Curt."

Without waiting for my response, he turns around and walks out of the kitchen, leaving my head and heart reeling with emotions I can't fully comprehend.

It takes a while before I realize that I'm staring into space with a foolish smile.

Get it together, London.