Page 14 of Glorious Sinner

Shoving back the covers, I pushed everything from my mind and sat up, taking in my room properly for the first time. Last night, after Tomas led me upstairs and steered me toward the bed, I’d crawled under the covers and tried to pretend this nightmare wasn’t happening. The fact that I’d actually fallen asleep—I checked the phone—and slept in—shit—said far more than I wanted to acknowledge.

My coming here in the first place said things I didn’t want to delve too deeply into. The truth was nowhere and no one else made me feel safe like Tomas did. That freaked me out for several reasons.

I shook off those thoughts as well.

The bedroom was big; the carpet, curtains, and duvet cover white. The furniture was dark wood, expensive looking, probably antiques. I’d known where Tomas lived, because he made sure I knew. He’d told me to come to him if ever I needed him, but I’d never been inside before.

I’d even gone as far as having a cab drive me past more than once. Which was something else I didn’t want to think about.

I stood and went to the window, looking down at people moving about on the street below. Inside was silent, still, calm, the last thing I expected Tomas’s home to be. I opened one of the doors in the room and found a bathroom, bigger than the one in my apartment—a lot bigger. There were double doors as well. I opened them next. A closet.

And sucked in a breath.

My bags were there. I knelt down to check them out. All my clothes, all of them, had been packed up and brought here. And not just my clothes, my makeup and toiletries, my jewelry.

I rummaged through my stuff, pulled on leggings and a tank top, and strode out of the room and down the stairs.

“Would you like breakfast, Miss Gable?”

I jumped and spun around. The gray-haired dude from last night had materialized out of nowhere and was smiling at me.

“Um…no, thank you.” I smiled back. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name last night.”

He dipped his chin a little. “Arthur.”

“Nice to meet you, Arthur. And please, call me Steph,” I said.

His smile widened. “Of course.”

I liked Arthur instantly. He had a nice face and kind eyes. “Is Tomas still here?”

“He is.” The guy frowned. “But I really think you should eat something first.”

“Maybe later?” I said.

“I’ll leave something in the fridge for you.” Arthur motioned across the hall to a set of double doors. “Tomas is in his office, through those doors. And no need to knock. He was waiting for you to wake,” he said gently.

“Thanks, Arthur.” I strode to the doors and, straightening my spine, pushed them open. Tomas looked up from his desk as soon as I walked in. My step faltered when his dark eyes locked on mine.

He was sitting behind his desk, wearing a black button-down, sleeves rolled up his corded, inked forearms. It was undone at the collar, giving an enticing glimpse of the tattoo on his chest. He sat back in his seat, his mahogany eyes moving over me, giving me a head-to-toe, and for once his expression wasn’t blank. I wasn’t sure what I saw in his eyes, but it made my heart race faster.

“Sleep okay?” he asked, gaze moving over my face, my hair, my eyes down to my mouth, where it lingered for several seconds before moving back up to my eyes.

I crossed my arms, shifting from foot to foot. He made me nervous…but not in a bad way. I never knew how to be around him. He’d never given me anything—nothing I could read. This morning, though, he was giving me a whole lot—and I was sure I had to be seeing things. “I slept fine.”

“Hungry?”

I shook my head.

Tomas frowned like Arthur had.

“You got my stuff last night.”

He nodded.

“All of my stuff.”

He stood, moving out from behind his desk, then leaned against the front of it. He wore dark trousers that clung to his solid thighs, and the muscles flexed when he rested his hands either side. He had long fingers, not elegant; blunt and scarred and rough.