The voice came from behind her, low and unmistakably male. Olivia's breath hitched in her throat as her heart threatened to beat its way out of her chest.
"Miss Shaw.''
She turned slowly, her eyes wide and alert. Standing a few feet from her was a man of breathtaking beauty, his features chiseled and symmetrical, his skin a smooth, deep brown. His hair was cropped short, his eyes a striking shade of dark amber that seemed to see right into her soul.
He wore a pair of loose silk pajama bottoms and a white tank top, his well-muscled chest on full display. He was tall, his presence imposing and intimidating.
He walked to her in powerful strides, stretching his arm towards her.
Her hand rose almost of its own accord, reaching out to meet the man's hand.
His hand was large, his fingers long and tapered, his palm broad and smooth. Despite the warmth of his skin, Olivia felt a chill run through her, a mixture of fear and intrigue.
She held his gaze, her own eyes wide and questioning as she attempted to decipher his expression.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice soft and contrite. "I just couldn't sleep, and I was hungry."
He brushed off her apology.
"Miss Shaw, '' he said, his voice carrying a faint edge of reproach as he pocketed his hands. "It's not proper for a guest to be wandering the halls of a house at night, especially not in such an inappropriate dress."
He spoke with an air of authority, his dark eyes scrutinizing her skimpy nightwear with a critical eye. She felt suddenly exposed, as if she were wearing nothing at all.
"I apologize," she managed to say, her voice trembling slightly. "I didn't realize...
His expression hardened, his gaze unwavering as he dismissed her apology with a simple flick of his hand. "I suggest you return to your room and dress in something more appropriate. Then you can return to get yourself something to eat.''
Her cheeks burned with shame as she pulled the thin robe closer around her shoulders, its inadequate fabric doing little to hide the curves of her body. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly at the mercy of this imposing man.
Her voice, shaky a moment before, took on a new strength, a fiery determination that burned in her chest.
"I wouldn't be down here if I was woken up for supper," she retorted, her gaze meeting Mr. Westmore's with newfound defiance. "And I certainly didn't expect to find anyone down here. I was simply trying to find something to eat."
Alex's surprise was palpable, his composure wavering for the first time since she had encountered him in the kitchen.
He took a step back, his eyes sweeping over her figure as if seeing her for the first time. "You are a bold one," he said, his voice low and husky. "But be warned."
Her heart fluttered, her pulse quickening at the raw intensity of his gaze. She forced herself to hold his stare, refusing to back down.
With a curt nod, he turned on his heel and strode out of the kitchen.
Olivia let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, her relief palpable as the tension in the air dissipated. She smiled to herself, a sense of triumph swelling in her chest. She'd stood up to the mighty Alexander Westmore, and he'd backed down.
***
Alex sat at his bed, the numbers swimming before his eyes. The numbers were not adding up. There seemed to be a leak in his accounts somewhere, and someone was siphoning money untraceable. He'd poured over the figures countless times, but the answer still eluded him.
The financial report lay before him, its pages filled with rows upon rows of figures and notations.
Someone is siphoning money from my accounts," he muttered to himself, his jaw tightening. "But who? ''
He leaned his back against the bed post, his eyes darting from page to page as he tried to make sense of the numbers. His mind was a fog. The suspicious death of his wife and the fear of Mr Carter discovering the death of his daughter further clouded his mind.
He thought of Olivia briefly, setting aside the 10-paged thick financial report. The fire in her eyes as she stood up to him in the kitchen sent something exciting to his mind. She was not what he had expected. She was almost a replica of his late wife, and would pass for Sophia if no one was really on the lookout. But their personalities were like north poles. Sophia had been timid, while Olivia was bold. Mr Carter and his wife were thankfully out of the country, and they were not expected until Christmas which was still a few weeks away.
The notification light flashed on his cell phone and it beeped, signifying a high priority alert. Alex picked up the phone, opening the details of the message. It was a reminder about the political fundraiser he and Sophia had been scheduled to attend the following week. He had completely forgotten about it, and hadn't factored it into his plans.
'This changes the plan a bit,' he muttered to himself.
Olivia would have to make a public appearance and interact with politicians and power brokers in a weeks' time, without raising any eyebrows. She also had to act in the capacity of Sophia who always represented the Carters every year.