The Vessel - Jenika Snow Page 0,9

work.

Once at the top of the stairs on the second floor, I took a left and headed down the long, ornate hallway to his room. The hallway itself was easily as wide as my living room, with a thick, plush Oriental runner covering the width of the marble flooring. I looked at the pictures on either side of me, ones that lined the damask black-and-silver wallpaper. They were mainly scenery pictures, ones of glacier-capped mountain peaks, others of a roaring waterfall surrounded by the jungle. There were a few scattered here and there of Lucius with celebrities or political figures. But mainly they were of nature.

And I really loved that.

I wondered why I didn’t see any more personal pictures, ones of Lucius and his father, maybe other family members. Maybe there weren’t any other Blacksmiths, none that were close enough to make appearances at their home or to be publicized in the media, or hell, get a spot on the wall.

When I got to his room at the end of the hallway, I noticed the door was partially open. I stepped inside, the music blasting through my headphones and tuning everything else out. I wasn’t allowed to listen to music when Merla was here, and I agreed it was unprofessional, but seeing as I was the only one here, I didn’t think there would be too much of a problem with it.

For a moment, I just stood there, looking around, taking in the wealth and art of his bedroom. It smelled like Lucius, these dark notes of masculinity and the subtle hints of power. His room was decorated in tones of black and teal, the blue-green accents a splash of color that reminded me of the Caribbean. I took in his bed, the impossibly massive mattress that he’d no doubt needed for his large frame. For just a second, I imaged lying in it, Lucius right behind me, his hands smoothing over my flesh, my body and mind surrendering to him.

But I pushed those sexual thoughts away and went back into work mode. I noticed how the room was already painfully pristine and clean, right down to the bed, which was already made.

Had he made his bed before he left this morning? Maybe he didn’t even stay here last night. That thought was immediately followed by the image of him with a woman, wining and dining her, maybe taking her to one of the other many residences he had, like a penthouse apartment in the center of the city.

I scrubbed those thoughts, further pushing them away. I needed to focus on something else, because I felt like—for the past twenty-four hours especially—my libido had been taking control and going overboard.

I walked farther into the room and noticed a set of clothing on the edge of the duvet; a pair of sweats and a white T-shirt. I’d put them away once I was finished.

I walked over to the windows and set my bucket of supplies down by my feet. After opening the drapes, I stared out the French doors, which led to the stone patio. The view from his room was incredible. The land went on as far as the eye could see, with lush green grass, manicured trees, trimmed shrubbery, and flowering bushes. I could even see the lake that stretched out an acre.

I’d never been that far back on the property, but what I wouldn’t give to have this much land, this much scenery and openness. I could picture building a nice little house for my aunt and mom, enough room for us to be close but still have our privacy. They’d have enough land to have a dozen gardens if they wanted.

A smile formed at my lips, but reality soon crept in. I needed to quit daydreaming. I’d never have anything like this, never be able to afford this type of luxury. And that was okay.

I grabbed the polisher for the wood from my bucket and headed into the walk-in closet. I’d start in there, cleaning off all the oak trim and drawers, cabinets. I’d polish the little rose gold handles until they shone and you could see your reflection in them. It was just an excuse to be around Lucius’s things longer, I surmised.

I stared at the rows upon rows of suits, slacks, jackets, and pressed button-down shirts of all colors lined up perfectly and in color-coordinated order. It was like a rainbow, an expensive array of shades that smelled just like Lucius.

I shouldn’t have walked up