Swooning Over Nikolai Cole

AVA DUVAL 

Not one of my so-called friends ever told me someone hovering around them would be so tiring!

  At breakfast, Mr Ethan watched me like a hawk that I thought I had something stuck in my teeth. When my dressmaker came, she excused herself because his gaze was too intense to handle. Even the cook took a leave, although for a different case, but he was probably one of them. He hovered around me like a vulture around a corpse. 

Now, I sat with my friends who talked about less interesting things — a party at a new hotel, boys they've used or found disposable.

He still watched, paying more attention to their conversation than I did. I glanced over at him taking in his looks. 

“Is he your bodyguard? I was wondering why he was standing there,” one of my friends, Rosie, said. I twirled my glass before taking a sip of my wine. I turned to face him. 

“He is. After my attack, Daddy swore to get me one,” I explained. 

   The girls nodded, their faces awed at such greek- gods giving face. 

“He's so capable,” Ada swooned, pouting her lips. 

“How would you know that?” I asked, getting irritated. 

“I know capable men when I see them, it's a gift,” she replied, wetting her lips at him. 

“If I had someone like that watching me all day, I'd be satisfied,” Rosie cooed like he was too perfect a man. 

They had no right to swoon over him, when he was my bodyguard without my permission. I didn't say that though, I would've sounded cheesy so instead, I gulped down a glass and poured another. 

“Then he should watch you,” I hissed at Rosie, surprised I was irritated because of a mere bodyguard who I only knew for two days. 

“You sound irritated,” Ada noticed, finally taking her eyes off him. 

“I'm not. I just think it's inappropriate.”

The girls stared at me like I was an alien, then burst into laughter. Rosie spilled her drink in the process. 

“Girl, you have him all to yourself. You rarely see a gorgeous guy these days,” Rosie cooed. 

   I threw a glance at him one more time before focusing on my drink. I could still feel his sharp gaze on me, boring holes into my body. His bio stated he was single and to be honest, I get why. 

***

   My friends left after the banter and I sat on the sofa holding a book, acting like I was grasping the words written there. 

“Do you have a hobby, miss Ava?” Mr Ethan asked, his voice surprising me.

“Am I not reading?” I retorted.

“It's just… you're reading the book backwards.”

  I stared at the book, not only was I flipping the pages backwards, but it was upside-down. 

Fuck this!

 I was so lost in thoughts about him that I didn't even notice my mistake. 

Throwing the book aside, I decided to indulge in something I actually liked. 

…

   

    The art gallery in the house sat near a wonderful view of the garden. The golden rays of light seeping through it told it was almost noon. 

I plopped on a stool trying to finish my painting. A girl holding a rose. Painting was something I did when I was depressed — apart from drinking that is. 

I picked up a brush, dipped it into a light pink colour and started. Carefully following the faint drawing of the flowers, I painted. 

“Your lighting is dull,” he said. 

“Do you always have something negative to say about me?” I snapped, already feeling annoyed.

“If it bothers you that much, then I'll mind my business.” He apologized but the curve of his mouth said he wasn't. 

He mocked me with that mischievous grin and those onyx eyes that screamed morally grey. 

“Your eyes make me uncomfortable,” I said, turning back to face my painting. His eyes never made me uncomfortable, but the fact he watched me with such a calculative stare. 

“The painting is meant to be happy, but it looks basic, no emotions. I'm actually good at that-” his eyes shifted to the pistol in his belt. 

“But that's not in the contract.”

I rolled my eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. 

“I need a drink,” I murmured leaving the room. 

  I moved to the dining room, taking a bottle of wine that sat on the table. 

“Pour,” I instructed.

 He obeyed, like a good boy. 

With a swing, I gulped it down requesting for more. Was I stressed because my father had personally told him not to let me go out to a party or because of my fucking hormones. 

   Suddenly an idea hit me, making me wonder why I never thought of it. Rosie had mentioned a party at a hotel, and the only way to leave was to get this man off me. 

“Should I pour some more, Miss Ava?” His face seemed normal now, no expression, only a blank face I couldn't read. 

“Call me Ava.”

“Call me Ethan,” he responded, pouring another glass of red wine. 

“Take a glass, it's sweet,” I urged hoping I was good at pressuring people. Even if I were good at seducing men, this man wasn't a normal person, he was a dangerous person with a VAR recommendation. 

   Ethan shook his head, kindly rejecting my offer. I needed him distracted — just long enough to disappear. 

My dress was already suitable for a party, all I needed was his absence. 

“I'm your boss so you should drink,” I commanded, handing him my cup. 

“Sure, Ava,” he said almost in a whisper. My heart skipped when he said my name and I would've dreamt about it except I needed to escape while there was time.

“I need to use the bathroom, I'll be back,” I said standing on my feet. 

   Immediately I left the room, I made my way through the flight of stairs. I picked up a random heel, slipped it on and moved through another stairs that led out of the house. 

A smile played on my lips as I rejoiced at my smartness. 

Just as I climbed down the last step, a voice stopped me. 

“A petty woman you are, Ava,” Ethan said coming down the stairs. He swirled his gun in one hand, a devious smile playing on his stupid face.

I gulped, staring as he walked down the stairs. 

“Fuck me,” I muttered making an attempt to flee, but my heels had other plans. Missing a step, I found myself falling to the ground. I shut my eyes praying the fall wouldn't be that bad — maybe a slight concussion for my punishment. 

Before my face could plant to the ground, a hand gripped my wrist. He held me with ease, like I was some kind of petal the wind could easily blow away. 

   Ethan pulled me in, my face resting on his chest. He was solid, if he held me for too long I might… my fucking mind couldn't go a day without thinking of something despicable.

As I tried to move away from him, my heels slipped and we fell to the floor. He diverted quickly, controlling the fall. I landed on him, and he, on the floor. 

“Oh fuck,” he groaned.

The hair on my skin stood. How could his voice make me so vulnerable? 

My body rested on his feeling the hardness of it. His dick pressed against my thighs and I suddenly realized why he groaned.

Focus, I told myself rolling off his body.

“Head back in, don't make my job any more difficult,” he said, standing up and rubbing the back of his head. 

  A thought came to my mind. If I was going to stay home, then I might as well make it hard for him. 

My hand clasped against my leg.

“I think it's broken. I can't stand!” I whined.

 Ethan observed me for a while deciding if I were lying or not. 

“It isn't.”

Fuck him.

“I twisted my ankle,” I pushed on… anything to stress him.

“Let me see,” he said, his voice a little worried. I sucked my lips holding my laughter. 

“No, don't touch me!”

    Ethan rolled his eyes and groaned. “Oh Ava, be a good girl, yes.” Without warning he picked me up, throwing me on his shoulder like a sack. 

I screamed, tossing my legs, begging him to put me down. 

He paid no attention to me and moved on until we reached my room. He laid me on my bed and pulled offy heels. 

“Go to bed.” His voice is gruff.

“You could've at least carried me in a bridal style!” I nagged, but obeyed him and stayed on my bed. I was too tired to go out anyways. 

Ethan shrugged and moved to the door. He combed his hair with his fingers, then rubbed his head. He must be in pain after such a fall. I wanted to ask how he was, but then he replied. 

“It's not in the contract.”

What a heartless man, I didn't even know why his pain bothered me!

  When he closed the door, my lips tilted. He was an interesting man after all.