Chapter 3

I wake up to the rich aroma of freshly roasted coffee, accompanied by a throbbing headache. Slowly opening my eyes, I find myself in an unfamiliar space. It takes me a moment to remember Andrew, and my heart shatters all over again. It feels like someone is driving a hand through my chest and ripping my heart through it. With the wreckage of my life now in full view, tears start rushing down my face. I can feel the pain throughout my body. I see Becca and Andrew wrapped in their passion every time I close my eyes.

I reach for my bag. I needed to find out if Andrew had bothered to reach out. I need to know if he was sorry. If he knew how much he hurt me, maybe he wanted me back home. Nothing. He had not called me. I fix my eyes on the yellow pill bottle. The pain is too much. I could just end it—end my misery. No, that will let them win.

Sliding back into the king-sized bed, I attempt to look for comfort in the sheets that are wrapped around my body. I wonder what else transpired the night before. I had gotten so drunk. Honestly, was I this stupid? Did I make a fool of myself?

"Good morning." A familiar voice came from across the room. I shamefully pull down the covers, memories flooding back in fragmented pieces. I work hard to wipe my tears away. It is embarrassing enough to spend the night with a stranger, but for him to also see me in this state of despair! Oh hell.

"Morning," I reply softly. I could not forget that face, but I do not remember his name. Did he even tell me? His voice soothed me.

"Your memory might be a bit hazy. I am Nathaniel Coven."

"You can relax; nothing happened. I don't take advantage of drunk girls," he reassures me.

I was considering the possibility of throwing myself at him. Who can blame me? My mind had been too consumed by the turmoil of the previous afternoon, and he was a handsome man.

As I peek from the top of the covers, I study him as much as I can. Nathaniel was even more handsome in daylight, though he was older and a gentleman. I am afraid to get out of bed. Never in my life had I been so impulsive. What is the appropriate way for me to act? Should I just leave? Am I expected to sleep with him since I left the bar with him? Standing up, I survey the massive bedroom, trying to pull myself together. The sunlight filling every corner is almost unreal, making my shame worth it.

"Take a shower and join me for breakfast. The bathroom has everything you might need," Nathaniel says, his intense gaze studying me from head to toe before he leaves the room. I feel drawn to him, unsure of what to do; everything is happening too fast.

The bathroom is expansive and stocked with everything I need, including a change of clothes. I take this time to soak in the water, drenching my whole body. For a moment, I forget where I am. Maybe this is what I needed. Stepping out, I am amazed to find myself in a Spanish-style garden. Did I actually fall in the club’s washroom, die, and go to heaven? The whole veiw is unreal—the house overlooking the valley. The morning light makes the sight magical.

"Where are we?"

"A few kilometers outside San Francisco, after our talk yesterday, I thought you could use a place to relax," he explains.

"What talk?" I ask curiously.

"About your ordeal with your friends," he replies, still staring intensely at me.

"In return?" I inquired, sensing the answer wouldn't be favorable.

Nathaniel stands, moving towards me with the same assertiveness as in his voice. I can't move. My eyes locked with his. He walks behind me. I can feel his breath on my neck, causing my body to react. With a shallow moan, I turn to face him.

He gently grabs my waist, pulling me closer. "I told you I don't take advantage of drunk girls," he whispers, running his hands through my hair.

"Well, I am not drunk now.”

Nathaniel releases me, and I find myself wanting more. I grabbed his hand. "I'm a big girl." I surprise myself. I have never been one to make advances. Nathaniel's eyes change, reflecting his surprise, before he moves towards me. For a moment, I can see his confusion. He pulls at my face. Our kiss is hungry and wanting. I am drowning in desire. I run my hands through his hair, and he kisses me deeper, hungrier. Nathaniel lifts me onto the table. I want him.

As I unbuttoned his shirt, his hungry gaze lingered on me, his hands tracing my chest. His mouth moves from mine and down to my neck, working this way to my chest, eliciting soft moans from me. His hands find my thighs, and I push against him. I need him desperately. Nathaniel finally pulls back, breaking my trance. He is almost feral.

"Before we move forward, we need some ground rules," he says, trying to regain control. "Make yourself at home; we'll talk when I get back," he adds, anxiously walking away. I am left breathless and craving for more.

This is crazy and reckless, I think to myself. What was I doing? Andrew's betrayal was still fresh. I am not a flirt. I am not someone who would sleep with a total stranger, but I have never wanted someone so much.

I wander through the house, my thoughts consumed by the insatiable encounter that has left me breathless. Who is this man, this stranger, who brings such intense desire within me? My eyes wander over the wall filled with poster-sized magazine covers featuring Nathaniel Coven, a man of mystery with no apparent title or explanation of who he is.