CHAPTER 9
Marlow offers me his kindest smile as we bid him goodbye. "Do come back anytime, Lady, huh?" he says.
"I surely will whenever I pass by," I answer truthfully, for I indeed enjoyed my stay here.
"Good." He grins and looks up at Red, who's still impassive "Take care of babymama, huh? She's a good one I tell yah."
Oh boy! If he only knew.
Red holds the front passenger door open for me but I choose to sit in the back. He's surprised by this, but he says nothing. Shutting the door slowly, he walks toward the driver's side and starts the engine.
Our ride to Astoria turns rather sullen than ever before. I'm facing the window, my head filled with so many things to sort out. And Red is highly focused on the road; a small frown on his face must be evident.
I am trying my best not to think of last night. I've got a lot to worry about— my collapsing business for instance, and yet it's still impossible to stave off the memory of Red inside me.
"Oh God," I breathe as I shift a bit, and immediately Red's gaze is onto the rearview mirror.
He looks at me and I look at him, but none of us open our mouths.
I wish he's not feeling guilty after what we shared last night. I don't want him to forget it, because I don't think I can even if the world turns upside-down. His kisses, his caresses, they're all emblazoned in my mind.
"I had to tell him so that he wouldn't doubt you . . . Doubt us," Red says in a low, guarded voice, his eyes still of the rearview.
Huh? What is he talking about? I'm too absentminded to understand.
"Your husband," he clears upon my inquiring scowl.
"Oh?" I mutter without much interest on the subject. "I get it." All I desire to know is what's on his mind.
How does he feel whenever he looks at me with those intelligent, blazing eyes? His past, his present, and even the things with deep, dark shade of red concerning his life— I want to know them all.
"Do you . . ." I start but my courage withers at the thought of something dreadful happening if Patrick learns of my secret involvement with Red. I shall never let it happen. "Never mind." I recline back thwarted, ignoring Red's expectant look.
Maybe it's better I try to forget about the sex we had, I decide. Oh, how easier said than done! I can hear my inner voice loud and clear making fun of me. Not after that unusually exquisite sex with the man who isn't your husband!
Nothing new goes on until we're finally in Astoria. I'm still wide awake, heedful, as the car pulls in front of a two-story house made of black-painted wild wood and translucent glass— modern cabin in the woods.
I sigh softly at the sight, my butt stuck on the seat. Long churning trees, birds twittering merrily, and the soothing breeze are what make this place pure tranquil. I come here whenever I need solitude and peace of mind.
"We're here," Red announces gently, his eyes back on the rearview. Our gaze collides as he reaches for the door handle to make an exit; that way he can open the door for me.
But I do it myself before he does. He's stupefied as I clamber out.
My eyes are fixed intensely on him. "You can call me madam. You can call me Mia. You can call me any name you find easier, Red. But don't make it too obvious that you're regretting what we did," I snap, unable to mask the hurt I'm feeling right now.
My eyes prick but I hold the tears like a big girl I am, and Red's face blanches into a wry apprehension. His sharp jaw constricts but he doesn't respond.
"It shouldn't have happened," I mutter in a low voice, "it's what I hear every time you look at me today." I slam the car door shut and fix my shoulder bag ready to storm off . . . away from him.
And suddenly his hand tightens around my wrist. I shudder, stopping in my tracks, the effect of his touch still so fresh like a morning dew, and a soft, unsorted breath flies from my lips. I close my eyes.
"I don't regret it," Red whispers, his tone firm and precise. I flash my eyes open in stun, but I don't move. Red does it; he strides over so he's standing before me, my hand still in his.
He doesn't regret. I replay his words, gulping.
I want to utter something, but I'm too afraid to say a thing. I shouldn't rejoice from any of this. This is pure fact yet my heart blossoms at this warm reveal from him. I'm inclined to happiness despite the situation.
"But you're right." Red frees my hand, sighing in defeat as my eyes drop about my same bereft hand. "It shouldn't have happened," he says and I look up at him stoutly.
His eyes are filled with bemusement. He's clearly torn, but he's also very sure of his standing on the matter as he quickly masks the indecisiveness with a bold, unwavering look.
Despite the heartache, I pull myself together and respond. "You're right. It shouldn't have happened." My voice is very low and I think I'm to blame for everything; I provoked him too much. "I'm sorry, Red. If I didn't—"
"Don't be sorry. Please don't ever say that!" Red admonishes and he sounds serious. He moves closer, holds my face and adds, "Because I . . . am not sorry, Mia." He's stern, and as always my name from his mouth turns my knees jelly.
I'm at a loss for words, my lips slight agape, and I can't think of anything to tell him. My attention ends up on his touch on my face, and he quickly pulls back as he discerns he's still holding me.
"You're driving me insane," I murmur and leave without looking back.
He's seriously driving me crazy! I groan mentally, frowning. I'm angry, frustrated, and still happy after what he said. A full track bulldozer is the magnitude of my feelings toward him.
Inside the house silence regards me. Everything is clean and neat, just as I like. The living room is adjoined to the kitchen. I'm standing near the fireplace, taking in the details of some renovations I asked to be made.
Red walks in, carrying his duffel bag with one hand. Our eyes meet as I'm busy meditating my surroundings. I freeze in his scrutiny, my heart beating fast. As he shuts the door, I leave.
The best part of my bedroom is the huge balcony. A strong breeze ruffles my hair when I part the glass double doors leading to amazing scenery. Ah! At last some clean, fresh air. I sigh.
I decide to give Bill a call. My lips stretch into a smile when the sound of infant cry hits my eardrums the second he answers. I can only imagine the joy of having a newborn you call your own.
"Ma'am." Bill sounds happy, excited, and who can blame him? I keep my smile bright. "How are you?" he asks.
"Great. I just wanted to know how you're doing. Is your baby okay? How is your wife?" My gaze is soothed by the sight of the lake from a far end, and all the giant trees surrounding the house.
I feel at peace right now.
Bill replies, "Very good, ma'am, thank you. I promise I'll be back on Monday and return to my duties."
"It's alright, Bill. Take a week off and enjoy your family. I don't think I'll need a driver anytime soon." I exhale a deep breath, leaning over the handrails.
What I need is a very good rest.
"Oh?" Bill sounds surprised. "Thanks, ma'am! You're an angel."
An angel? Nah. Only God knows the shady things I've been up to lately. I'm no different than Patrick. We're both cheaters.
As I end my call with Bill, I remember someone else I forgot. Anne. Aside from being my friend, Anne also works for me and she's been very cranky after the loss we suffered. Calling her, I bump into her voicemail.
A knock on the door urges me to abandon the balcony leisure and return to the bedroom. I know it's Red but I'm still so startled whenever he drops those three soft knocks.
"Come in," I say while throwing the phone on the bed.
The door swings open and Red dashes in. "Um, there's nothing in the kitchen. Do you want me to go and buy you something to eat? And for dinner later, too?" he inquires.
"No, I don't. Let's buy groceries instead. I don't want food from outside," I reply. Red frowns, confused. "Don't worry; I won't make you cook. I'll do it myself," I snap at him, rolling my eyes.
Surprising me, Red chuckles lightly. Now I'm the one frowning, but no offense taken. I'm rather on the verge to smile from this little and sudden change in him.
"You think I suck in the kitchen, don't you?" I stride toward him with feigned menace. He stifles a laugh, wrenching one eyebrow. Oh, why is this so good? "Do you?" I'm right in front of him . . . of his big chest, gazing up at him.
He clears his throat, recovering his normal composure. "No, Madam. I'm just surprised," he answers.
"Surprised? Why?" I purse my lips.
"Um . . ." He scratches his head, as though he can't say it out loud. I purse my lips even more, and he giggles. "Well, I just—"
"Stop it, Red! You definitely think I can't cook, huh? Wait and see!" I snap, and suddenly I'm giggling, too.
What's happening?
"Okay, I'll be waiting. So, are we going?" Challenging me, Red's eyes shimmer brightly and that sexy appeal flounders all over his smile that's trying to rise so beautifully, but he's busy repressing it.
"Yeah." I quickly step away from him so that I don't end up jumping on his lips and assault the hell out of him.
Fuck! He always makes me want to kiss him when we're closer.
"Right now?" Red stalks my behind as I bend over to grab my phone.
"Yeah, right now." As I turn back his eyes are filled with mischief, unusually playful. "What?" I quiz, flushing.
"You're not going like that, are you?" he asks flatly.
"What's wrong with my dress?" I cast a quick glance on my attire. "I mean, yes it's kinda stinky; but if I start taking a shower right now, and change, we may not be able to leave anytime soon."
"There's nothing wrong with your dress," Red says and he looks very amused by my reaction.
"Huh? Then—" Before I say anything more, Red takes my hand and leads me onto the bed; I sit down, following his lead, puzzled, not knowing what he's up to.
Without a word he walks toward the open wardrobe connected to the bedroom. He knows every part of the house since we've been here twice already. When he returns he's holding a pair of white sneakers.
"You—" I try to speak but I fail at the sweet suspense he creates.
He bends down on his knee, his eyes tender yet serious on mine. I get lost under his spellbinding gaze, my lips gaping. I'm melting, deeply.
"You shouldn't wear these long shoes all the time. Let your legs relax," Red whispers, and I feel the shooting stars crossing the sky at this tiny little gesture. "I'm taking them off," he says genteelly, seeking for my approval.
"Okay." I nod, and I think I'm seriously falling for my bodyguard.