08

Both knew they had to stop, but neither took the initiative to put the brakes on the situation. That only made matters worse by making them increasingly intense, akin to the unfathomable depth of the ocean. No comparison could have sufficed to translate what they were experiencing. Suddenly out of breath, she found herself straddling him, feeling with her whole being the pressing virility through his trousers, which nearly drove him to the brink of madness. Yet, he was holding back; he had to avoid at all costs causing a scandal.

It mattered little that there was a living soul in the vicinity; this place was nonetheless inappropriate for yielding to such forbidden acts.

It was a veritable miracle that he managed to stop the momentum and find the strength to say no to her. Although he subsequently had to subject himself to a cold shower to soothe himself by his own means. It was nonetheless the wisest decision; no matter how many times he had dreamed of taking her like that. Now that he could touch her, feel her, while they were on the verge of going all the way in his own bed, he had backed down. He felt partly foolish, but on the other hand, he knew it was the best thing to do. He had just avoided a colossal problem, to his mind.

After long minutes trying to catch their breath after this paroxysm, the young woman was seized with immense remorse, whereas he felt only an infinitesimal amount. Hope, for her part, would have liked to run away, bury her head in the ground, or see a giant chasm open up to swallow her whole. Incapable of looking him in the eyes, she felt defiled, akin to an easy girl. Not only was guilt gnawing at her—not only because he was older and was her friend's father, which constituted a sort of betrayal toward Alicia—but on top of all that, this added to the turmoil in the kitchen a few seconds earlier. It was certainly wise to return to her room, but not without offering apologies for this incident.

He was staring at her intensely, trembling as he returned to his seat, and witnessed the moment she hid her face in her hands, betraying the deep shame that flushed her cheeks. So, he reached out his hand to place it on her back, sketching slow caresses to soothe her. That was his sole objective, even if at that precise instant, nothing could erase what had just happened. The young girl continued to feel this imperious need to disappear, an oversized urgency beyond all measure. Never had she felt so bad.

And with good reason, such turmoil had been foreign to her until that kiss on the edge of the precipice that had upended everything.

In a way, he was returning the favor and could breathe deeply again, more convinced than ever that she was a true ally in the storm.

"Girls, dinner is served, I doubt you feel like missing the delicious meal we just prepared. You're going to lick your chops, it's so good," the housekeeper announced gently just as both of them straightened up with a start. Especially Hope, whose prospect of seeing her friend's father again plunged her into a state of extreme nervousness.

Just thinking that she was going to find herself beneath his deep gaze set her entire body aflutter. But she had to mask this turmoil, for Alicia would spot it immediately. Her friend had always possessed a formidable sixth sense with boys. Hope would never forget that time in middle school when Alicia had instantly guessed the attraction she felt for a classmate, even though Hope hadn't confided in her yet. That was why she had to redouble her vigilance if she didn't want Alicia to pierce the budding ambiguity between them. At least, that was what she presumed on her part, for she struggled to believe a man of Ashton's caliber could be interested in someone like her.

She allowed herself to be guided toward the immense dining room, a vast and modern space she remembered visiting on several occasions. Despite that, she felt profoundly foreign to it, and even more so under the imposing stature of the man presiding at the end of the table. He invited them to sit down again to begin the meal. Hope took a seat three chairs away from him, but the distance felt derisory; even a kilometer wouldn't have sufficed to restore her ease.

She could only focus on the exquisite preparation, though her appetite had deserted her. The desire to eat had vanished the moment she sat down there. Incapable of swallowing a single bite without trembling in every limb, she nevertheless forced herself to put on a good face, picking up the appropriate fork and knife to cut a piece of juicy meat. She tasted it slowly, and as if by magic, hunger returned. Fortunately, this inhibition had dissipated, and she could eat more serenely. Meanwhile, her friend Alicia wouldn't stop uttering delighted exclamations about the cooking, going so far as to ask her opinion on the dish. Hope settled for nodding with a sign of her head, all the while feeling the intense gaze of her friend's father planted on her.

"Yes, I like it a lot, thank you," she replied.

"It's a pleasure that you like it. Here, we also accept suggestions; it's not just home cooking," he chimed in, rewarding her with a falsely benevolent smile. At least, that was how she had interpreted it, or what was left of it if she hadn't kept his predatory gaze in memory.

"Yes, there are evenings when we order takeout, whether it's Chinese or anything else that crosses our minds. In truth, you can suggest whatever you prefer. Though, I know it already perfectly, I know you're crazy about Italian food, don't go denying it, huh?" he launched, while she sketched a timid smile, tilting her head slightly.

Ashton observed them both, and particularly Hope, who had shown herself rather reserved. Should he be more discreet in his glances? Was she afraid of him or something close to it? Perhaps it was something else.