Blind Girl: A Dark Billionaire Romance Read online

  “That’s all?”

  “Gabby…” I look at her and shake my head. “Charles isn’t like Ian,” I say. “This is way more complicated.”

  “He’s a guy. How complicated can he be?”

  “Very.” I grab my keys. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  She looks disappointed, but I don’t have time to make her feel better about it. I’ve grown tired of her advice on the subject. It has pushed me in the wrong direction with Charles. I don’t want to be someone I’m not around him anymore. Gabby may be happy dressing up for Ian, but I want something realer than that.

  I enter the stairwell and jog down the stairs. My phone shows seven-ten. If I don’t hurry, Harvey will leave without me.

  A burst of cold wind strikes me as I step outside and I feel snowflakes against my face. I catch sight of the car at the end of the sidewalk. Harvey stands still, seemingly not bothered by the coming snow storm. As I come into view, he smiles.

  “Good evening, Ms. Hughes,” he says.

  “Let me guess,” I say. “He told you seven-fifteen.”

  He answers me with his eyes and opens the car door for me. I hesitate for a moment before stepping inside.

  “Harvey?” I ask him after we’re moving.

  “Yes, Ms. Hughes?”

  “How long have you known Charles?”

  I see him furrow his brow in the rear view mirror. “Oh, I’ve been with the Kent family for over twenty years.”

  “Really?” I ask.

  He nods.

  “What was Charles like back then?”

  Harvey’s chuckle breaks the silence. “I don’t think Mr. Kent would like me talking about his past,” he says.

  “Oh…” I nod. “Okay. Sorry.” I look out the window instead. We’ve entered downtown. Neon lights cast colorful shadows on the seat around me.

  “But…”

  I meet Harvey’s eyes in the mirror.

  “He wasn’t all that different than you,” he says.

  I lean forward. “How so?”

  “He was a dreamer.”

  Harvey says nothing more and looks back at the road. I don’t push him any further on the subject and sit back in my seat until we arrive at Charles’ estate.

  It sits just outside the city limits. The car stops outside the gate and Harvey types a number code into a pad to open it. A vast landscape awaits me with a large mansion in the center of it all. I hold my breath as I step outside and look up at it from the circle driveway out front.

  I follow Harvey up the snow-covered steps and wait as he unlocks the door for me. We step inside and my eyes fall on the giant staircase in the foyer. I follow the banister upwards until it winds to the left and I see Charles at the top. He stands with his hands in his pockets, wearing an untucked casual shirt, staring down at me like a king.

  “Hello, Charles,” I say. My voice echoes slightly through the open air of the room.

  “Alice.” He looks at Harvey. “You’re dismissed, Harvey. Have a good night.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Harvey spins around. “Take care of yourself, Ms. Hughes,” he whispers to me.

  “I will,” I say to him. “Thank you.”

  He smiles as he leaves. I hear him lock the door behind us, trapping me inside with his master.

  “I like him,” I say.

  Charles smiles, standing in place above me. “Harvey’s a good man.”

  “He tells me he’s known you for over twenty years.”

  He starts to move down the staircase. “What else did you get out of him?” he asks.

  “Nothing.” I cross my arms over my chest to break the snow’s chill on my skin. “He thought you wouldn’t like him talking about you.”

  “He would be correct.”

  “He’s pretty loyal.”

  “To a fault.”

  “You must pay him really well.”

  Charles reaches the bottom and pauses on the final step. “He’s generously compensated for his time and abilities.”

  “Does that mean he does more for you than drive your car?” I ask.

  He regards me with hesitation. “Maybe,” he says.

  “Charles…”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you fly around at night and beat up bad guys?”

  He laughs. “No, Alice. I don’t.”

  “Damn.” I shrug my shoulders and glance around the foyer again, taking in all the little details I can make out in the shadows.

  “You’re cold,” he notes as he crosses the final step. “Come with me.”

  He leads me into the next room, a large study illuminated by nothing more than a lit fireplace in the corner. The warm fire draws me closer and I sit down on its edge to feel the flames as Charles pauses next to a drink cart.

  “Just water, please,” I tell him. I notice him peak at me from the corner of his eye as he pours. The fire draws me back in and I slide my coat off and set it on the floor next to me.

  “Here…”

  I look up and take the glass from him. “Thank you.” I take a sip of the cool water and let an ice cube rest against my lips for a moment before setting the drink down.

  Charles takes a seat at the other side of the fireplace with his own drink. “Are you warm enough?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  He takes a sip of his drink, something brown on the rocks that I can’t make out. “This is a nice look for you,” he says, gesturing to my clothing.

  “It’s basic me,” I say.

  “I like it.”

  I hide my pink face behind my glass as I take another sip. “Do you live here alone?” I ask him, changing the subject.

  “Yes.”

  “No family?”

  “Not anymore.”

  I pause and hold my cold hands above the fire. He watches me closely. “Where’d they go?” I glance at him, wondering if I went too far with the question, but he appears unfazed.

  “My father and mother retired to Europe a few years ago,” he says. “I have no siblings.”

  “And you never…” I hesitate to ask, but when I look at Charles, I know he’s already guessed the question.

  “I had a wife once.”

  I lean back against the side of the fireplace and pick up my drink. I stare at it instead of him. “Did she leave you?”

  “No.”

  “Did you leave her?”

  “No.”

  “Where is she?” I look at him and meet his eyes.

  “She died.” His stare never falters, although I can barely hold mine steady.

  I turn to the floor. “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “It was a long time ago, Alice,” he says. He takes a sip of his drink. “Another life entirely.”

  “Do you miss her?” I ask.

  He blinks slowly and looks me up and down. “No,” he answers. I shift my legs beneath me and take a sip of water while staring at the floor. “That’s not the answer you were expecting,” he notes.

  “No, it wasn’t,” I say.

  “You thought you had me figured out,” he whispers. “The grieving widower that takes comfort in young women rather than dealing with the death of his beloved.”

  I clear my throat. “Maybe.”

  His laughter gives me goosebumps. “No, Alice,” he says. “I’m not that cliche.”

  “Do I remind you of her?” I ask.

  His smile grows. “No.” His eyes drift to the ceiling. “No, my fascination with you is far stranger than that.”

  “Then what is your fascination with me?”

  “I think you’ll figure that one out on your own.”

  “I thought you were going to be honest with me, Charles,” I argue.

  “I have been very honest with you so far, Alice.” He finishes off his drink. The ice cubes clink together at the bottom of the glass as he sets it down. “Keep going.”

  I breathe through my anger. “Why does every receptionist in your building have brown hair and brown eyes?”

  He raises an eyebr
ow. “Like you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Pure coincidence.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “They were the most qualified for the job, Alice. I approved their applications before I ever met them.” He narrows his eyes at me. “I never pegged you for the jealous type.”

  “I’m not jealous,” I hiss. “I just found it interesting.”

  “Come on, Alice!” He glares at me. “Get to the good questions.”

  “When you first saw me,” I ask, “what did you think?”

  “This should be easy.” My jaw drops and he laughs at me. “Oh, don’t be so naive, Alice. I go to those parties for one reason and one reason only. You and Gabby were fish in a barrel.”

  “How romantic.”

  “I don’t do romance.”

  “Obviously.”

  “If it makes you feel better,” he says, “you presented quite the challenge in the end.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “It should. I almost gave up.” His eyes glaze over, lost in the memory. “But then you opened your mouth and I realized…” His voice drifts off and the crackling of the fire takes over.

  “What?” I ask, teetering on the edge of his words.

  He takes a deep breath with his eyes trained on me. “Never mind.” He snatches his empty glass and pushes himself off the fireplace.

  “Charles—” I watch him move across the room. He sets the glass down on the cart. “Answer the question.”

  “No.”

  “Whatever happened to ‘I have nothing to hide from you?’” I ask.

  “Turns out…” He looks towards me with his head down. “I was wrong.”

  I shake my head. “Why am I really here, Charles?”

  “You’re here because you wanted to be.”

  I sigh, sick of non-answers he’s so keen on giving me. “How many women have you brought here before me?” I ask.

  “Zero.”

  “You’re lying.”

  He takes one quick, disgruntled breath. “You’re proving to be more trouble than you’re worth.”

  A smile strikes me. “You’re lying again.” He laughs and shakes his head. “Did you kill your wife, Charles?” I ask.

  The smile never leaves his face. “No,” he answers.

  “Just checking.”

  He stares at me, that familiar look of amusement glaring down at me. “Come upstairs with me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to fuck you so badly, I could tear you apart.”

  His words ignite my flesh and I feel the blood pumping through my veins. “What do you want from me, Charles?”

  “You know exactly what I want.”

  “No, I mean…” I pull myself up from the fireplace. “What do you really want? What’s the end game here?”

  He flexes his jaw. “I can’t be anything more to you than what I am, Alice. I can provide for you, pleasure you, and protect you. But I can never love you.”

  “What makes you think I want you to love me?”

  He tilts his head and turns back to the cart to refill his drink. “Am I wrong?” he asks me as he drops a fresh ice cube into the glass.

  “You never pursue the same girl twice,” I say. “Why me?”

  “Who has been filling your head with this nonsense?”

  “Ian.”

  Charles laughs. “Ian…” he repeats. “Ian knows only what occurs within the walls of his hotel — which is only one in a city of dozens.”

  “You deny it then?” I ask.

  He pauses. “More or less.”

  “Explain.”

  He gives an exasperated sigh before walking back over to the fireplace with his drink. “Do I like variety? Yes, I do. But there have been plenty of women I’ve seduced that have been worth a second dip.” He gestures to the fireplace, signaling for me to sit back down.

  I stare at him as he sits down across from me. “How many have earned a third dip?” I ask.

  He smiles at my choice of words. “That list, Alice, is rather short.” He tastes his drink.

  I sit down. “And how many have you invited to your house?”

  The flames reflect back at me from his eyes. “Even shorter.”

  “Five?” I ask.

  He shakes his head.

  “Four? Three?”

  “Alice—”

  “Two?”

  “Just you.” I fall silent as he looks on me with kindness. “Just you, Alice.”

  I turn to the fire. “What about your wife?” I ask.

  He glances away and takes another sip. “She never saw this place,” he says.

  My lips shake with hesitation. “Did you love your wife, Charles?” I ask.

  “Yes.” His response is so quick and immediate, I know he’s telling me the truth.

  There’s pain in his eyes and I instantly regret asking the question. No matter what he said before, there’s a limit to Charles’ honesty. An awkward silence falls on us, but I don’t want to let it linger too long. I pick myself up off the fireplace again and rush over to the door.

  “Where are you going?” he asks.

  “I want a tour of your house.” I bounce on my toes, trying to coax him off the fireplace to follow me.

  “There’s not much to see.”

  I twist the knob. “You can stay here then,” I say as I pull the door open, “and I’ll go uncover all of your little secrets.”

  “You won’t get far.”

  “You underestimate me, Charles.” I step into the foyer. My shoes tap the floor and the sound echoes against the walls.

  My search brings me to a living room on the opposite end of the foyer. Large windows allow the moonlight to shine in, casting a wondrous blue glow on every surface as fresh snow taps eagerly against the glass. There’s plenty of furniture lying about, but it’s all covered with white sheets. I reach out and feel a thin layer of dust gathered on the first armchair I find. I wipe it on my jeans and continue on through the house.

  I find three more rooms in similar shape, populated with furniture, but obviously unused in quite some time. I swing back through to the foyer to see Charles sitting on the staircase, waiting for me.

  “Are you a lonely man, Charles?” I ask him.

  “No.”

  I move around the staircase and enter the kitchen at the back of the house. Unlike the rest of the ground floor, I find signs of life. Two dirty plates lie stacked on top of each other in the sink, along with a few pieces of silverware and drinking glasses. I pull open the refrigerator and feel no surprise when I find it nearly empty, save the normal bare essentials.

  I return to the foyer. “Why do you live here?” I ask him.

  “This is my house,” he simply says.

  “You obviously only use three rooms in the whole thing.”

  “My parents liked to throw parties,” he mutters. “I hid away in the study.”

  “Did you inherit all of this from them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your business, too?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you always want to run your father’s company?”

  “No.”

  “What did you want to do?”

  “Something else.”

  “Like what?”

  He sighs and peers up at me from the corner of his eye. “Alice, you are exhausting.”

  I step around him and start to climb the stairs.

  “Alice…” He reaches out and grabs my ankle. I keep a hand on the banister to hold myself steady. “What do you expect to find?” He seems nervous but does a decent job at hiding it.

  I shrug. “I don’t know,” I say. I stare down at his moonlight-drenched face and smile. “Is there something you’re scared I’ll find?”

  He releases my ankle and sits back.

  Instead of allowing me to explore the second floor on my own, Charles tails me up the stairs. He lingers behind me like a shadow as I push doors open one-by-one to find most of them in the same state
as the downstairs.

  “You don’t get very many guests,” I note.

  He says nothing and merely looks on me with amusement as I piece his daily life together in my head.

  Finally, we reach the master bedroom at the end of the hall.

  The warmth of a second fireplace embraces me as I step inside. Charles closes the door behind us while I wander around the room. He leans against the door and slides his hands into his pockets, watching me closely.

  “This is nice,” I say, admiring the decoration. “Does Harvey make your bed for you?” I brush my fingers over the duvet as I pass by the four-poster bed.

  “No,” he answers, a smile on his voice.

  “I’m just kidding,” I shoot back at him.

  “I know.”

  The vanity in the corner catches my eye. It seems out of place next to everything else in the room. I reach out to feel the smooth flower petals carved into the wood surrounding the mirror.

  “It was my mother’s.”

  “It’s beautiful.” I look back at him. “She didn’t want to keep it?”

  “I’m sure she found another one in France just like it.”

  “Is that where they are now?” I ask. “France?”

  “Or Belgium. Spain. Ireland.”

  “You don’t know?”

  He shrugs and says nothing more.

  “Sounds like a good life,” I say. I pull out the stool under the vanity and sit down. I try to imagine myself as royalty, with handmaidens at my sides and a vast array of cosmetics lined before me. I shake the thoughts from my head and catch sight of a photo album sitting on the corner.

  As I reach over and lift the front cover, his hand appears from the shadows and forces it closed. I flinch with surprise. His sudden presence brings me great pause. I didn’t even see him move away from the door.

  “Stand up,” he says in the darkness.

  I obey slowly, hesitant to make any quick moves around him. My tongue taps the roof of my mouth. “What’s in it?” I ask as my curiosity wins out over my fear.

  His hand hovers over the album for a moment, then he pulls it away. “Go ahead,” he whispers.

  He’s challenging me, dangling the mystery in front of me like a shiny object, hoping to keep my attentions. “What’s in it?” I ask again. I search his eyes for any silent indication, but they appear black in the shadows.

  When I refuse to give in, he does it for me. He opens it with a quick flick of his wrist and pushes the album closer to me.