Chapter 5 - Some Like Them Hard

Nicolette

Once I saw the man, I froze and went speechless. My heartbeat sped, my body temperature plummeted, and it was hard to breathe instantly.

My god, the man with Professor Danes looked like that man in that weird place!

Every bit of him. From his body build, to his facial features, to his frosty eyes that currently were looking at me too.

My wide world just shrunk. I began to question my reality.

Taller than the professor and twice younger than him, the man moved with grace, so self-assured, oozing with authority and demanding attention at his surroundings. I was left gaping as he neared me, er...our table.

When our eyes met, I certainly went even stiffer. He had the same color of eyes as that man. He had the same tense brows and jawline, and the same full lips.

I was beginning to think they were one and the same. That the curse wanted me to have a heart attack. That the man had come to yank my hair again and drag me into a spot where he could lodge a sword through my heart.

Luckily, I noticed two teeny details about him: his modern clothes and his short hair. It was enough to tell me I was wrong. That this man existed in my world and not in some fantasy land. But still, his presence left me on edge.

He was exactly the kind of man I steered clear of. The kind that always spelled trouble. But he brought something more than trouble, though. I felt it in the way he looked at me. I just couldn’t decide what it was.

Now twenty minutes after he arrived, the two professors were called to the stage to give their speech while the school principal and her husband watched the program, directing their backs to us. Mr. Ozric and the university director were the ones who conversed a lot. That was where I learned he was the CEO and owner of a damn multibillion-dollar company. I just sat there, silent, keeping my cold hands from getting even colder. Unfortunately, though, the university director excused himself and went to another table to talk to a teacher. That consequently left me alone with him.

“By chance, do...do you believe in reincarnation? Or doppelgängers, Mr. Ozric?” I asked out of the blue. It was my way of opening a conversation after an awkward silence with him, but partly I was curious, too.

I believed in such things, and right now, I was leaning into the idea that Mr. Darien Ozric of the Ozric International Conglomerate had a doppelgänger in a different world.

Twisted.

He glanced at me and cocked a brow.

“That’s an unusual question from someone I just met,” he said.

I didn’t think he was offended, but still I rushed to apologize, “Oh, I’m sorry.I wasn’t really thinking right.”

I cleared my throat and went to focus on my dessert of mango meringue again, but my ears faintly caught a chuckle from him.

“No worries,” he assured. “I get that a lot.”

“Excuse me?” I gave him a questioning brow.

“Many people confuse me with another person.” He drank his wine that the professor seemed to have prepared only for him, and I just stared at how his Adam’s apple bobbed. Rather improper for a lady, my grandmother always reminded me, but what was I to do? His presence just demanded attention, even in the simplest of things.

“You sure strikingly look like the person I...recently met,” I confessed, unable to hold it in anymore.

“Hm.” He placed the empty wine flute on the table and then shifted in his seat to face me. “That’s an interesting story to hear.”

“Ah, no.” I hastened to shift my eyes away from him, remembering my experience with the long-haired man last night. If I told him, he’d think me a candidate for the psychiatric unit. “It’s not really a story that’s worth your time, Mr. Ozric,” I lied. It was worth anyone’s time. It included swords, soldiers, and a shape-shifting chimera. Who wouldn’t like that?

“Hm,” he hummed again and right there, I could feel his gaze giving me x-rays. “Believe me Miss Holland, time is what I haveaplenty.”

I decided to retreat. He wasn’t going to charm the story out of me. Not a sentence of it.

“Well, uhm, excuse me, I need to go to the powder room,” I announced. It was rude and cowardly, I know, but this was better than being placed in the hot seat.

He didn’t reply, so I made my way into the ladies’ room without glancing at him.

“Focus, Nikki. Focus!” I shouted to myself when I stood in front of the rectangular mirror, certain I was alone.

My hands felt cold still, so I opened the faucet and adjusted it to warm. The running water instantly soothed me.

“Shit, that man sure looks like him,” I muttered, looking at my reflection eye to eye. “But it’s impossible. Just impossible.”

I heaved a breath and shut my eyes for a moment.

“Should I go back there?”

To ease the thudding of my heart, I thought it would be better to leave the party. Away from him. Away from the ancient mirror I would see soon, but...

“No, I should go back.” I clenched my jaw and snapped my eyelids open, determination flowing inside me. “I’m not a schoolgirl who gets easily flustered. I’m a grown woman. I can handle this situation.”

I was probably the only single woman inside the function hall who didn’t give him lustful stares, and I was proud of it. Very proud of it.

As I returned to our table, I kept on wishing he wasn’t in his seat anymore. That maybe he was swarmed by queen bees and was fed up with it. Imagine my disappointment when I saw his broad back still as squared as ever, mocking me.

“You’re back. I was beginning to think you’d bail out,” he remarked as soon as I claimed my seat again.

“And what makes you think that way, Mr. Ozric?” I answered. I placed my clutch bag on the table, my meager way of diverting my eyes away from him.

“Nothing. I just get the feeling that you’re...intimidated by me.”

A short, humorless laugh escaped from me. This man is straightforward.

“I don’t even know you. Why should I be?” I answered, keeping my voice as sharp and unbroken as possible.

This time, I glanced at him with a brow up. My heartbeat jumped as I discovered he was already looking at me, interrogating me with his haunting eyes. Interrogating me and stripping my soul.

Then his focus flicked past me just as I felt someone lightly tap my shoulder.

“Miss Holland, Mr. Ozric, come.It’s time to enter the museum,” Professor Malorie announced.

It was a total breath of fresh air. A very welcomed one. I couldn’t bear to be so close to this man any longer.

In a flash, I took my clutch and stretched my legs. Mr. Ozric, however, was faster than me as he was already towering over me with a hand, palm up, near my face.

“I’m playing a gentleman to a beautiful woman,” he stated. “Shall we go?”

I glanced at Professor Malorie and god, even though the lights were dim, I saw the mischief in his eyes.

After clearing my throat, I took Mr. Ozric’s offer, but I was taken aback the moment I placed my hand on his. Touching him for the second time tonight, I felt myself tased. As if lightning just struck our interconnected hands. When we shook hands earlier, I thought it was just because of some random friction. This time, I knew it wasn’t.

Just who was this man?

I quickly retracted and hid my hand behind me, clenching it tight.

As if nothing happened, I strode to the exit of the function hall, consciously aware of the man beside me and the many envious eyes around us.

*****

“Every artifact here has a story. Not one is boring,” Professor Malorie stated when our seven-person group entered the first floor of the museum in the Ancient Artifacts section.

I didn’t know what the heavens planned for me, but hell, why was I walking side by side with Mr. Ozric still? When did I become his personal chaperone for the night?

“For example, this one, given by Miss Holland.” The professor paused at a glass-encased item I recognized so well, so much so that I had to hide a laugh. The thing was huge just as I remembered it to be. “It came from her expedition in South Africa. The Zumassi Tribe called this ‘Pantassus’, coined from their fertile god, Pantassu, who can grant the male wisher a thick penis and the ability to make their wives happy all night long.”

My mischievous smile fell. Shit. Why had this tour become a quick sex history lesson?

Unintentionally, my eyes roamed to the ramrod straight Mr. CEO. He was looking at the penis-shaped artifact, too, and it sure looked like he was very interested in it.

“I’ve got to say, this object is completely eye-catching,” he voiced out to me without even looking. “You must feel sad giving this to the museum.”

I pursed my lips. No, I wasn’t sad. Nope. Not at all!

“I’m just going to act as if you didn’t say that, Mr. Ozric,” I answered while crossing my arms over my chest.

His lips tipped up when he stared at me, and then his vision dipped to my cleavage—through the sweetheart neckline of my dress I thought was conservative. I seriously felt he made it see-through with just that gaze. I controlled my breathing from trembling and redirected my attention to the professor again.

“And here we have the ‘Stone of Abessus.’ Given by Mr. Zafe, from his wife’s collection of Egyptian artifacts,” Professor Malorie continued, nearing another item. We followed him. “This slab of stone, as per the saying goes, allows the owner a bridge to communicate with the dead. No one knows how to use it though, and it was rumored to house a deadly curse.”

I gripped at my clutch bag harder. It made me remember the ancient mirror and the feeling that I’d be seeing it again soon. Real soon.

Professor Malorie transferred to another artifact. It was placed against a wall, still in a glass case. We, as visitors, followed him again.

“And this one here, from Mr. Jameson Holland’s collection, Miss Holland’s father, the Necklace of Rentaur. It is said to give the bearer the strength of ten elephants and...”

I zoned out. It wasn’t intentional, but the professor’s history tidbits just passed through my ears once I spotted the accursed mirror hanging on the wall. It was in the farthest corner, a suitable place for it to be displayed, and it was lighted by two spotlights bolted to the ceiling. Around it was a red rope to keep the viewers from touching it.

Good.

But I honestly hadn’t realized I neared it when Mr. Ozric’s voice filtered through my ears.

“A mirror?” he asked, stopping beside me. I didn’t care to look at him.

“Yes, a mirror,” was my blunt reply.

From the corner of my eye, I saw his hand run along the information plate, stopping where my name was written.

“You gave this too?” Our eyes locked in the reflection.

I zoned out again. His reflection in the accursed thing caused me to remember the chimera.

But why the chimera? That I couldn’t answer.

“It’s for the best. The mirror was beginning to...grow on me.” Understatement of the year.

“Really?” He cocked a brow. “You should take it back then if it means a lot to you.”

“Oh, no.” I shook my head and turned around, not wanting to see his reflection anymore. “It’s better here than in my bedroom.”

“Hm, your bedroom, huh?”

I wasn’t certain if it was just my imagination, but his voice turned huskier when he said it. It was honey in my ears. To give it a double meaning would be improper, but here I was thinking of him and me in my bedroom and...

Shit. Stop daydreaming this instant, Nikki!

“I think... I should go,” I hurried to inform him, embarrassed by my own thoughts.

I turned to look at his profile, but I was startled to see the definite change in his expression.

I honestly believed he’d smirk my way. I didn’t expect he’d show a scowl. But luckily, it wasn’t directed at me but directed at the ancient mirror.

He was staring at it like it was his worst enemy resurrected. Like the artifact was a demon in disguise.

“Nicolette,” he spoke, my first name rolling off his tongue like it was meant to live there. His frosty eyes gazed at me, and I swear I was chilled down to the bone. “Where did you say you got this mirror again?”

“I... I, ah...” I stammered. My heart rate quickened when my mind compared the scowl on his face to that scowl the long-haired man gave me. They were alike, hands down, no rebut needed.

My eyelids fluttered when he grabbed my elbow, holding it like pliers. I whimpered in response, giving him a look of fear.

“In—in Malta,” I replied. “On an expedition.”

His expression turned even gloomier.

“Where exactly in Malta? How was it kept? Did you see anything written on its frame? How about its back? Did you examine it?”

I gulped at how he threw his questions. Never had I seen a man so serious just because of a mirror.

“I don’t...I don’t know,” I blurted out. He had so many questions I didn’t know which one to answer first.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

His grip on me tightened. I whimpered again, but this time, cringing in pain.

“Mr. Ozric, you’re...you’re hurting me,” I implored. “Let go, please.”

He seemed to register it just then because his expression slightly eased.

“Miss Holland! Mr. Ozric!” Professor Malorie’s voice—thank God—interrupted us.

Just as I turned to look at him, I felt Mr. Ozric’s hand loosen. He cleared his throat and then stepped forward.

“Am I interrupting something?” Professor Malorie asked while looking at my worried face.

“No, not at all, professor.” It was Mr. Ozric who answered, and smoothly, might I add. As if, as if nothing happened.

“Well then, let’s go to the second floor? We have a collection of swords I am excited to show you.”

We both nodded and went, but this time, I opted to stand next to the professor, trying as much as I could to get some distance between me and the man who just hurt me.

But take note, the whole time we were on the second floor, I could feel his stormy gaze on my back.