Page 29 of His Stolen Queen
After all, I had firsthand experience of just how unnerving his influence could be. He was authoritative in his conduct— an alluring and dominant force, skilled at influencing his opponent to get his way. It was more than his looks—which were enticing enough—but it was his whole persona and quiet energy that had me off balance.
"So, will this be his main residence?"
The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it. From earlier conversations I had with Von and Acheron, I assumed that this would be a place for him to rest his head when he was in town for business—even though I found that reasoning rather excessive.
However, with the addition of so many bespoke furnishings and the effort put into the running Gothic theme throughout the rooms, it was clear that this residence would be used more frequently than expected. Again, not that it was any of my business.
And Von seemed to agree.
"Mr. Angelou has yet to decide." He slid a hand into the pocket of his perfectly tailored pants.
I licked my dry lips and finally asked the question I was dancing around. "Is he—is he here?"
Was it my imagination, or did Von's mouth twitch? The contrast of his light and dark features was playing havoc on my senses. I already found him intimidating through our correspondence, but he was even more unsettling in person with his knowing stare that seemed to cut straight through me. I felt like the new girl in school, desperate for the cool kid's approval.
Maybe it was because I could sense that Von was very important to Acheron Angelou.
"He is," Von finally divulged. The breath I held slowly slid out. "I shall inform him that you seek him."
"Oh." I quickly turned off my tablet as I felt a flush creep up my cheeks. "No, no. It's okay. I was just curious."
I cleared my throat as I returned my tablet to my tote, clutching the bag higher on my shoulder. "Do you mind if I roam upstairs? I want to check the progress before I head back to the office for a meeting."
He gave me that eighteenth-century butler bow. "As you wish. I shall email you the updated schedule this afternoon. Have a lovely day, Miss Harper."
"Thank you. Please call me Alice or, if you insist,Mrs.Harper." But I was talking to his retreating back.
As I made my way up the stairs, that sweet, addictive aroma tickled my nose and wrapped around me like a warm blanket on a cold night. It soaked into my pores, making me falter at the sheer force of its effect on me. My eyes darted to the side, sensing a clouded presence engulfing me, making me weak at the knees.
He was here. Close to me. I could feel it.
The apartment suddenly became still, as if it could sense the colossal shift in the air. Even the gentle banging of a worker's hammer and the hum of their chatter were abruptly hushed.
The short hallway greeted me, stretched out like an ominous welcome mat leading directly to his private sanctuary. It was closed, and my designer eye lit up at the sight of the dark walnut neo-Gothic doors that framed the entrance to the bedroom.
His bedroom.
I’d been dying to see the doors in person, but my excitement was surpassed by the knowledge that these imposing slabs of wood guarded the room where Acheron Angelou was mostvulnerable—most intimate. My breath came out in short, quick puffs.
I didn't need to peek inside to know what lay beyond. Von had meticulously detailed what his employer expected of his private quarters. Dark green with accents of red. A king-size bed with iron posts and a midnight black chaise. Sexy. Masculine. Sensual. Dark. Moody. Seductive.
Had he picked out the bedding himself? Or did he have a lover who dictated what thread count she preferred? My throat constricted as my hand tightened on the handle of my tote.
I focused back on the beautiful old doors, ignoring how my heart beat faster the closer I moved toward them. I could finally make out the delicate embellishments carved on the wooden panels. I peered closer, letting my tote slip from my shoulder onto the hard floor. My mouth parted in wonder as I observed the chilling artwork.
A monster-like figure appeared in nearly all the scenes. It had pointed ears and rough ridges around its head and brow. His eyes were void of pupils, and his face was repeatedly twisted in a silent roar, showcasing long fangs.
He was alone on some of the panels, glaring menacingly out into the distance. But the majority of carvings showcased the monster tearing humans apart; his sharp teeth buried in the necks of villagers, with their faces contorted in pain. Others were far more gruesome, with decapitated heads and organs ripped out of their chests and stomachs.
Riveted, I leaned closer to inspect the intricate details. Far from disgust, the horrifying scenes held me in an enthralled trance. The carvings themselves were gorgeously made, yet I couldn't deny that the storyboard of scenes fascinated me. I reached out a long finger and started to trace over the bumps and ridges of the monster's face, gently caressing the long fangs protruding from his distorted face. The orc-like features andthe seemingly blank eyes bordered by the permanently furrowed brow had an almost reverent beauty to it.
The curve of my neck started that familiar tingle as I continued my soft touch. I smoothed my fingers along each panel, stroking the creature in involuntary tenderness. The need to soothe his ache and anger had me questioning my sanity.
Yet, when I came to the final scene, my mouth turned down, and my eyes softened as I explored the picture. A powerful body lay still on the ground; its detached head was held high in triumph by a villager. The mouth on the head was wide open in a silent, defiant roar.
Moisture gathered in my eyes as I slowly traced his large, headless body. A strong current of emotions filtered through me. Empathy. Awe. Sorrow. Respect. My affinity should've lain with the tortured villagers, but it didn't.
Suddenly, that sultry scent, which now felt like an extension of me, grew stronger. It overwhelmed my body, and I responded in a way no married woman should when confronted by another man’s aroma. My hardened nipples and damp panties betrayed my true feelings.
