ETHAN'S POV
The mansion was too quiet.
I sat at the head of the dining table, a plate of untouched food in front of me. Usually, I relished the silence of this house; it was the one place where I could think without interruptions, without unnecessary chatter. But now, that silence was too loud, too noticeable.
She'd been gone for two days.
It was impossible to feel anything about this. I wanted space, didn't I? Her absence should be a relief. No soft smiles that I couldn't return, no hopeful glances that made my chest ache. But now, the empty rooms felt heavier with the air thickened by her absence.
I pushed the plate aside and stood; the chair scraping the floor. I needed to get to work. Work always cleared my head. Numbers were simple, predictable. Unlike Lila.
In the office, I buried myself in reports and meetings. Still, my mind betrayed me by wandering back to her at the most inappropriate times.
I thought of how she looked in the library the other day, her lips parted slightly as she looked up at me. The memory hit like a gut punch. I had wanted to kiss her then, so badly that my hands had clenched at my sides to keep myself in check. Her scent had wrapped around me, soft and floral, with a hint of something sweeter, vanilla, maybe. Alluring.
And that dress. God, that dress. It had hugged her curves to perfection, showcasing the gentle slope of her shoulders and the delicate turn of her waist. I had to leave the room before I did something stupid, like pull her into my arms and kiss her senseless.
By the time I was leaving the office, my frustration had doubled. Not at her, but at myself. I hated how easily she invaded my thoughts, how much I wanted her despite every warning bell in my head.
The silence was waiting for me again when I finally got home. I went into the master bedroom, pulled there by some unnamable force. Her scent was there in the sheets and in the air. Faint, but unmistakably there.
I went into the walk-in closet with my fingers lightly touching the soft fabrics of her dresses, and casually took one up to my nose and inhaled.
The scent of her perfume invaded my nostrils, and my body reacted in a nanosecond. A growl escaped my throat as my cock hardened, the heat pooling low in my abdomen.
My mind was consumed with thoughts I could not suppress, bending her over the nearest surface and making her soft cries fill the air, gently spanking her for teasing me; her bruised lips from my kisses as I kissed her till she was breathless. The images of her beneath me came to my mind, quivering while hands, mouth, and cock pay homage to her body.
A wave of self-loathing washed over me and I dropped the dress, stepping back as if it burned me.
What the hell was I doing?
I paced the room, running a hand through my hair. This wasn't me. I didn't let emotions, or lust, or whatever this was, control me. I was better than this.
That night, no matter how I fought it, I was again in the master bedroom lying on the bed, her perfume still on the sheets, wrapped around me. For the first time in days, I slept soundly, my dreams filled with her.
The next morning, I plunged deep into work once more, determined to get her out of my mind. Conferences, calls, spreadsheets-they kept me busy and away from thoughts of her smile, the sound of her laughter, the sparkle in her eyes when excited over something.
But that afternoon, while going over quarterly projections, my phone buzzed.
A text from Lila.
Hi, Ethan. I just wanted to just check in with you to know how you're doing. I hope you're fine.
My heart pounded, an unsourced surge of warmth spreading through me. She cared. She was thinking about me.
For a moment, I debated responding. Something simple, like
"I'm fine. How about you?"
But then the doubts crept in.
Was she serious, or was this just another one of those schemes so that she could make sure she had a chance in my life, and access to my bank account?
I set the phone down, gritting my teeth. I refused to get pulled in only to get betrayed.
But sitting in my office a little later, I couldn't seem to take her message off my mind. I thought of her, what she would be doing, and whether she missed me as much as I did.
No sooner had the thought occurred than my hand went towards my cell phone. I typed my reply:
I'm fine. Take care.
Brief, simple, and straightforward.
A pang of guilt settled into my chest as I hit send. I wanted to say more, but I couldn't let myself.
The rest of the day passed in a haze of frustration. I hated how much power she had over my thoughts, how much I missed her presence. Her absence was like a void, one I tried hard to fill but simply could not.
The morning of her return found me pacing the living room, issuing orders to the staff. Every nook and cranny of the house had to be spotless, every surface gleaming. I even ordered fresh lilies for the bedroom, her favorite, though I'd never admit I remembered that detail.
On an impulse I didn't understand, I stopped by a jewelry shop on my way home from the office. A pair of diamond earrings caught my eyes-delicate, understated, but perfect. Perfect for her.
I put them on the bedside table beside the bouquet of lilies, my stomach twisting with nerves. Would she like them? Would she think of it as an act of goodwill or a bribe? I told myself it wasn't a big deal; it was just a gesture. But deep down, I wanted her to know I'd thought of her, that I cared.
I waited for her in the living room while my mind was tangled with thoughts of her presence: to see her, hear her voice and melodious laughter.
But then I could not shut out the little voice of dread that she was just another woman who was in my life for my money.