Chapter 1
The eerie silence of the dark alleyway swallowed her whole. Her heartbeats, once a frantic drum, now slowed as her brain signaled it was safe to emerge from her hiding spot behind the rancid-smelling dumpster. Despite the dead silence of early morning, she had to be sure she wasn’t being followed anymore. Viridia’s head whipped around frantically, her eyes darting in every direction, searching for the sinister figure that had been stalking her. The glint of the steel knife in his beefy hand was seared into her mind. Who was he? Viridia wracked her brain. Why was he after her? Could he be the same man who had been sending her those threatening letters? The ones warning her to leave London or else...
She shuddered, trying to swallow her dreadful thoughts. All she wanted was a relaxed, tranquil Saturday alone. Today—or rather yesterday, considering it was now early Sunday morning—was supposed to be her first day off. But thanks to her arrogant, devastatingly gorgeous boss, Blaise Maximus Kensington, she found herself working overtime at his cousin Jasmine’s insane pool party instead of relaxing at a spa. She scoffed. No amount of money was worth her time tonight surrounded by rude, arrogant, and pretentious celebrities and billionaires. To top it off Jasmine’s superstar boyfriend Spencer tried to get his dirty hands on her, determined to bed her after his girlfriend passed out. Her head started to spin as the image of the drunk actor who'd cornered her in the kitchen resurfaced. Viridia’s stomach tightened in a knot, recalling the dread she felt. Spencer mistakenly assumed that all the guests had left. She remembered his wild panicked look when he found himself on the floor agonizingly clutching his broken, bloodied nose. Spencer's eyes were wide with terror as they locked on the wrathful blue fiery glare of his girlfriend’s cousin—Viridia’s boss, Blaise. The offending crimson liquid was everywhere, soiling the spacious and pristine kitchen in Chelsea.
At that point Viridia had had enough and stormed out, ignoring Blaise’s apologies and pleas of him wanting to drive her home safe. But after she’d been accosted at the bus stop, regret ripped through her chest as she ran for her life, thankfully finding a safe hiding spot. Desperately fighting back waves of fear and nausea at the sour, rank stench from the dumpster that greeted her.
Blaise had already done enough rescuing—first from that nasty brunette called Vesper who bossed her around and now from that creep Spencer. Viridia was desperate to gain back her control at reality, therefore becoming dependent on her hot boss wouldn’t help.
Dynamics between her and Britain’s most eligible bachelor were changing. Ever since he’d rescued her from the dumbwaiter back at the Kensington mansion, his soft blue stare that once used to glare back at her in annoyance and haughtiness, was now different. Friendlier? More caring? Hell, she didn't want to go there. Almost a look that was daring her to cross that invisible line she’d marked between them. He was breaking those walls she’d carefully built. No, not just walls…it was the very foundations he was shaking to the core; threatening the very reality on why she shouldn’t entertain the idea of being emotionally invested in him. She couldn’t fall in love with him; she was his housekeeper…his mere servant.
The thoughts of Blaise soon arriving to pick her up from this godforsaken alley of hell immediately calmed her. “Share your location with me…I’m on my way. You wait there and I’ll give you a ring once I’m there. Ok?’ His deep velvety voice was like a comforting cashmere blanket, filling her with hope that help was coming. He was coming to get her! ‘I’m such a fool, I should’ve just accepted his lift home,’ she chastised herself. But she knew too well why she refused.
Viridia’s arms instinctively wound themselves around her as she savored the memory from the dumbwaiter incident. Her skin prickled wispily in need recalling his comforting bear hug. Unbeknownst to her boss, he’d sparked those wanton desires she tried so hard to suppress. But she couldn’t resist, not even the burning mortification she felt the evening before was enough to stop those thoughts. That evening Blaise had stumbled upon her sex toy, the one she’d used just mere moments before their little accident. Thankfully due to its queer shape, Blaise had no idea what this ‘marvel of technology’ was used for—assuming it to be a powerful charging port. ‘But what exactly does this thing do? Is it some sort of charging device? I have one that packs mean power!’ She recalled her boss’s deep British voice and wallowed inwardly at the last part. This certainly didn’t help stop the luscious thoughts of him. The image of a dapper and posh Blaise Kensington pawing curiously at her sex toy should’ve been enough to discourage her from further defiling her aristocratic boss.
She shivered as the breezy London air nipped her skin and pulled her coat tighter around her, hunching behind the shadows of the alley way. She felt much more confident now that her stalker had given up, her breathing now back to normal. Was he some weird random guy? Was he a serial killer? She shuddered, thinking that those scenarios would be much preferred, rather than if he was the same psycho sending her those mysterious notes threatening her to leave London. If it was the latter, nothing could stop the crazed, knife-wielding creep since he knew where she stayed. Unless she moved to the staff cottages at the Kensington Mansion. ‘No, I can’t…’ Viridia pushed the thought away. She loved the isolation and freedom that her apartment in Tower Hamlet provided her with; even if it was an hour’s drive away from where she worked.
‘Where is Mr. Kensington?’ she suddenly grew panicked. Had he missed her? Did he have trouble locating her. Her mind suddenly drifting back to the beautiful man with golden hair and piercing blue eyes.
“Well, on Monday evening bring along your swimsuit and wait for me when I get back from the office.” Blaise’s baritone whisper replayed in her head when it came to light earlier at his cousin’s pool party that she couldn’t swim. Her eyes fluttered shut at the recent memory of how she’d rudely shut him down not missing the flicker of surprised hurt in his eyes. No, she couldn’t give in to his devilishly angelic charms, she knew she would never recover emotionally if he’d abandoned her after their tryst. That is if he wanted her the same way she wanted him. Recently she’s being getting ahead of herself after the dumbwaiter incident. Why would he want someone like her—an orphaned woman without an identity and he a gorgeous fin-tech mogul? She was witness to the many beautiful celebrities flocking after him during the lavish pool party. He was like the pied piper, but instead of rats, he entranced the stilettos off beautiful women. She was merely a game to him. But what about that last slice of cake he’d brought for her when he'd reminded her to take her staff break? His blue gaze so soft on her like warm tropical waves. Was that a sign of a Casanova wanting something fleeting with her?
She jumped from the shock of a vibration against her palm, the light from the cell phone flooding her face. His name flashed on her screen. He must be here! She answered in one ring and his sexy deep-toned voice tinged with urgency flooded her ear. “Hello, Viridia. Where are you? I’m parked at this alleyway, and it’s the exact location you’ve sent to me. I can’t see you!” She edged away from the shadows and stepped beneath the faint white glow of the streetlamp. The raw feeling of vulnerability hitting her once again, but the feeling was quickly replaced by relief once she spotted the familiar sleek, silver Aston Martin. The engine rumbling softly like white noise in the background, the driver’s door was open and there he was, his golden head whirling around eager to spot her. When those blue irises met hers, she could see the magnanimous relief replace the urgency in them. His dimples deepening at the sight of her. The delicious panty-vaporizing smile undoing her in many ways as her knight in shining armour, or more like the tall, suave man in coffee-brown shorts and the short-capped white tee hurriedly rushed towards her. Before she knew it, she found herself wrapped in a deliciously warm, comforting hug. Hungry need engulfing her as his silky-smooth whisper slipped breezily into her ear. “Viridia, I’m so glad you’re safe. My Lord, I was worried sick about you. I’m so sorry about tonight. That bastard Spencer! He’ll regret this…” Blaise growled, the tone rougher with the mention of his cousin’s boyfriend. “This is all my fault, it should’ve been your day off…” His arms tightening around her, further pulling her into him. Her arms immediately wrapped around his broad, muscular back, the scent of cinnamon and cedarwood invading her senses. She took a deep sniff—if only she could bottle it up. An almost breathless moan escaped her mouth, as she angled her face towards his, feeling the prickly stubble of his square jawline. “Oh, Mr. Kensington…please – ”
She felt him immediately stiffen; embarrassment coursed through her as she realized that she’d almost kissed him. She quickly pulled away, “M-Mr. Kensington, uh thank you for coming here. I’m sorry for bothering you. Thank you.” She hastily mumbled, avoiding his gaze, nervously tucking a loose strand behind her ear. ‘Well done, Viridia. You just can’t help yourself, can you?!’ she chastised herself, silently observing her handsome boss open the passenger door for her. She gulped, instantly regretting her desperate call to him. Now spending a night behind a dumpster seemed far less intimidating than spending an hour seated in the luxurious sports car next to her strikingly, gorgeous boss.
