007 — Midnight Temptation

Cara's POV

(Bella's POV will now be Cara's POV, given her new identity.)

The hot water poured down on my skin like heavy summer rain. I stood still under the strong spray shower, let it beat against my tight shoulders and back. Steam filled the bathroom, wrapping around me like a warm cloud. 

I stepped out of the shower, dried my body real quick, and slipped into a short silk nightdress. The thin spaghetti straps rested real light on my shoulders as the soft fabric brushed against my thighs.

I sat on the edge of the big bed for a while, then picked up my phone. The room was quiet except for the low hum of the air conditioner. My thumb hovered over Felix’s number for quite some time now. I wanted so badly to hear Lila’s voice, even if just for a second. My chest felt heavy with longing, trying to get us to the distance and disconnection between us.

“Ms. Cara?” A maid’s voice came through the door, cutting through my thoughts. “Mr. Valenti wants you in his study.”

My heart jumped hard. I quickly placed the phone down and stood up. My pulse raced in my neck and ears.

I checked myself in the mirror one last time. The short nightdress hugged my body, just as tight  as I needed it to be, the silk cool and smooth on my skin. It clung to the curve of my breasts and hips. I took a slow breath and left the room. The cool air of the hallway brushed my open legs and arms, raising tiny goosebumps.

I knocked softly on the heavy wooden door of the study, my knuckles felt the smooth, polished surface.

“Come in,” his deep voice answered way too quick.

I opened the door, slowly stepped inside, closing it quietly behind me. The study smelled rich and masculine — aged whiskey, dark leather, faint cigar smoke, and warm wood. The air felt thicker and warmer in here than the hallway. 

Mr. Valenti stood near his large desk, holding a glass of amber liquid. Even in his early fifties, he looked powerful and strikingly handsome, I'll give him that. Quite tall with wide, strong shoulders that stretched his white shirt. 

I stared low at him, his chest was firm and broad, the fabric pulling slightly across hard muscle. His arms were thick and powerful, veins standing out under the rolled-up sleeves. His stomach was flat and toned. Sharp jawline, his hair well styled, and dark, intense eyes that seemed to see straight through me.

He raised his head, letting his gaze move slowly over my body — from my bare feet and legs, up my thighs, lingering on the swell of my breasts, and finally to my face. The look felt heavy, so heavy that it almost felt like his hands sliding over my skin.

“How do you find your room?” he asked casually,  a sip of whiskey real slow. The ice clinked softly in the glass and the sharp, smoky scent of alcohol reached my nose.

“It’s great and I—”

“Good. You’ll be staying there for the time being,” he cut me off, his eyes returning to the papers on his desk.

I blinked, confused as I didn't know I'd be staying on the same floor as the entire family. “What…”

“I need you at my every beck and call,” he added, raising one eyebrow as he noticed my surprise. His voice was low and commanding.

I nodded quickly, keeping my face obedient and calm as it should. “Okay sir. I promise to be honest and truthful in all my tasks and I’ll—”

He raised his hand to stop me right there. His eyes shifted to the business phone on his desk. It started ringing loudly, the sharp sound cutting through the quietness between us in the room. He didn’t flinch. It was as if he had been expecting the call.

“This is Mr. Asher,” he said, his voice loe. “Pick it up. Tell him I’m home sick.”

I swallowed hard, stunned at my first task. My fingers felt slightly cold as I picked up the phone. I delivered the lie exactly as he instructed, keeping my voice smooth and professional while my eyes stayed locked on his.

 My heart beating hard against my ribs the entire time, yearning so bad to know the scheme behind this fake call. When I placed the phone back down on the desk, he walked slowly toward me.

He stopped very close, his body heat radiating to my skin. His scent — whiskey, expensive cologne, filled my nose completely. I could feel the heat coming off his broad chest. 

My stomach fluttered now with excitement and nervousness as I felt  him close. My nipples tightened under the thin silk. My mind racing ahead of time. Would he take me right here on the desk? Would he push me against the wall? Would his hands grab me roughly while everyone else slept?

“Go to bed. It’s late,” he said suddenly, cutting through my thoughts, his voice flat and calm as he gestured toward the door with his hand.

I blinked twice, so shocked. The excitement that had been building low in my belly just disappeared in an instant, replaced by cold disappointment and frustration. My cheeks burned so hot.

 I turned without saying another word, opened the door, and walked out, the soft click behind me sounded too loud in the silent hallway.

“Playing hard to get,” I scoffed quietly under my breath, my jaw tight as I realized his stand right there. He's not going to be easy to get through. "Let's see about your son first," I muttered to myself, walking slowly 

I didn’t return to my room. Instead, I walked deeper into the quiet house. My bare feet made almost no sound on the cool marble floors, the air also felt slightly chilly against my arms and legs. I moved slowly through the long hallways, studying every door, every corner, and every shadow. This place would become my battlefield. I needed to learn every inch of it.

I turned a corner and gently pushed open a door that was already slightly open .

“Oh shit!” I whispered, my voice real low, my eyes widening as I realized whose room this might be.