30 Days (Lost Love Trilogy #1) - Belle Brooks Page 0,49

a long time, I’ve slept beside a man, and I’m frightened by the thought.

As my eyes focus, I realise I’m alone. The blankets beside me are crumpled yet empty. Quietly, I walk downstairs in search of the kitchen.

“Hello,” I call out before entering.

“I’m in here,” Marcus’s voice calls back.

Stepping into the open doorway, I’m greeted by his bare back, his pyjama bottoms resting on his hips.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, turning around.

“Yes. Very.”

“Good. Sit.”

A plate loaded with bacon, eggs, and a piece of buttered toast is positioned in front of me. We sit opposite each other. It’s so quiet you could hear the sound of a pin dropping. As each bite of food fills my stomach, I’m surprised he can cook so well.

“So you cook?”

He doesn’t answer.

“It’s really good,” I say with my mouth half filled.

He doesn’t look at me. Each bite is taken in uncomfortable silence, and he appears ignorant of my existence.

“Are you finished?” he says finally, placing his cutlery across the plate as the last bite of toast enters my mouth.

“Yes,” I murmur, still chewing.

A small smile gently invades his blank expression before he stands and clears the table. As soon as he finishes, he’s gone.

I hear feet on the staircase and then the banging of a door on the upper level. Why is he so closed off this morning? Stephanie.

The room begins to close in around me. Abruptly, I stand and throw back the heavy curtains that still remain closed behind the table, allowing some sunlight to enter.

“Wow,” I exclaim, shocked as a long jetty, and then water, comes into view. Sunrays glisten across a tranquil river, bringing me instant peace. “Beautiful.”

I’m drawn to the sight like a moth to light. I don’t take my gaze from the view as I slide the glass doors to the balcony open with ease. I’m met by the soft breeze and the crisp smell only fresh morning air can deliver. I don’t know why, but I instinctively step across the concrete veranda and then onto the lush green grass. I’m in awe of the view.

“Fuck me,” I mutter.

Strong hands are gently placed on each of my hip bones. I startle but don’t need to look back—the smell of mint and the multitude of sensations dancing across my skin tell me it’s him.

“How I’d like to do that,” he whispers into my ear.

Without my consent, my voice emits a soft moan.

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you, Abigail?”

I swallow hard as butterflies take flight in the pit of my stomach. I want him. I just can’t have him.

“I can’t … I mean, I don’t.” My voice is so low, barely audible. My heart pounds frantically, in an arrhythmic way as my body is turned in a spin.

“I know you do.” He lets me go and steps backwards. “You need to get ready. Your clothes have been returned.”

“My suitcase?” I say, breathless.

“No, your dry-cleaning.”

“Oh.”

A ghost of a smile touches his lips. He says nothing more, then turns his back to me. Marcus in a black suit, tailored perfectly, is my last sight before he leaves. What’s with this man? One minute he’s quiet and withdrawn, the next minute he’s making advances—he’s so hard to read.

Back inside, I hurry to the upper level and prepare for my first day at Sims, General, and Klein Sydney office.

Nervous.

A navy business suit, white shirt, black laptop bag, and shiny dark stilettos await me, laid out on the bed. There’s a small white box to the left. Curious, I pick it up and open the lid. A gold pendant is nestled inside. It’s a locket. But when did he get it? Better still, why?

“You can’t buy me, Marcus,” I mutter, confused. After dressing and placing each foot into the designer shoes that were chosen for me, I huff before grabbing at the strap of the bag and attempting to sling it over my shoulder. It’s heavier than I first thought, and, in the nick of time, I prevent it from falling to the floor.

What’s in here?

“Are you ready?” Marcus asks in a firm tone from outside the bedroom door.

“Yep.”

The door opens, and he walks in. A navy tie is in place and tucked neatly into his jacket, which is fastened by one button. The clean smell wafting from his skin is alluring.

He glances down at the bed and then back at me. “Did you not like your gift?”

“It’s lovely.”

“Well, you should be wearing it. Here.” Picking up the box, he moves behind me. The chain