Chapter 7

I decide I’ll try to wear myself out by walking around the house since everyone should be asleep by now. I get out of bed and start to walk around the ground floor of this huge house.

I find the kitchen, the living room and there’s even a pool. So, Damian stays in this big house all by himself?He really is a loner.

I end up at the door to this room, it seems different from the other doors and that’s the reason I decide to open it and see what’s behind it.

It turns out to be a library. A huge ass library with shelves so tall, they could be touching the ceiling. Even though it’s dimly lit, I feel like I’ve stumbled upon a treasure chest brimming with gold and diamonds and immediately start checking out the books.

It’s an amazing selection of books and I could imagine myself cooped up here for ages and ages. Then something catches my attention from the corner of my eyes. Down the aisle, a couple of shelves away, there’s a light coming from the corner, so naturally I follow it.

It’s Damian, he has a whole office set-up here, right in the middle of the library with his desk, laptop, files and everything. He raises his head up to look at me.

"You’re still up?" He asks.

I shrug. "I can’t sleep, you’re still up too. Work?" He nods and relaxes back into his chair.

I walk to the shelf behind me and pick up a book. "I wonder though, how do you balance running a company and being a professor all at the same time? It must be really stressful"

He shrugs. "You’re going to be stressed about everything in life. I happen to love teaching and stress is the last thing I’d let stop me from getting what I want. I personally think it’s just a mind construct,"

I can’t help but laugh at that. He really is something. "What is this library though? It’s so huge and I never would have pegged you for a fiction lover," I say to him and raise the book in my hand to his face, "Stephen King? And I’m pretty sure I saw J.K Rowling back there."

He smiles. "These are all my mom’s books. She used to love reading. There was never a time I saw her without a book lurking somewhere around her. This was her library, built for her by my father. At that time, their intense love for each other was almost repulsive to witness, but now, recalling memories like that brings me oddly comforting feelings."

The silence that ensues is everything but uncomfortable, in-fact it’s necessary. I’ve never heard him talk for this long and about anything this deep either. It’s endearing to witness.

"That’s so beautiful," I manage to say. His face is void of emotions and I really want to know what’s going on in his head.

"I hear your marriage with the Crouther is a contract?" He deadpans. I’m confused on why he has that much information. How does he even know we’re getting married?

I turn away from him and place the book back in the shelf.

"Why him?" He interrogates. I sigh and walk closer to his desk. "Because his family is really influential and powerful and they have lots of money."

Damian chuckles at this, "Yeah, that's right. It's good we're being honest, Claire."

I laugh and plop down on the chair opposite him, "If I had a choice, I’d run off to Cancún and never show my self here again."

"But you do have a choice." He contends, he’s looking straight into my eyes.

"No, what I have is responsibility," I maintain. He shakes his head in disagreement.

"Claire, your parents social standing is not your responsibility," he asserts and that hits my core, I almost tear up. How does he know exactly what to say? Is he Batman?

Which reminds me, "How did you know I was getting attacked in my room? I thought you’d already left," I ask him, it’s been nagging at me for a while.

"I waited in the car till I saw you enter your room from the window. I wanted to be sure you were safe and then I saw you get attacked by that bastard, so I called the cops on him and immediately ran to your apartment." He explains.

I’m struck and for a couple of seconds, I’m quiet. "You waited behind?" I ask.

"Of course, you’re a literal magnet for disaster." He says and I chuckle but he looks really serious when he says, "I feel really inclined to make sure you’re protected, Claire."

"I promise you, I can handle myself." I say to him as I get up to leave.

"I’m sure you can." He follows suit and starts walking towards me. "As a matter of fact, there’s a slim chance that you might not need me but I’m very unwilling to take that chance." He finishes his sentence and he is so close to me that he can probably hear my ragged breathing.

"Why?" I ask him simply, in a low tone.

"I can’t explain it without sounding like Edward Cullen, except you’re into that kind of thing," he jokes and I find myself giggling at his joke. When I look back up at him, he’s staring at me in that way that leaves my stomach in a knot. In a way that makes every part of me want him.

Before I can think any better, he grabs me by my waist, closes the space between us and kisses me deeply. I immediately become a pool in his arms, kissing him back as his fingers sink into my hair and he runs hands all over my body.

His lips taste of expensive wine and as the kiss deepens even more he becomes more possessive, more greedy. His hands are slipping under my shirt, caressing my skin and I’m letting him.

He picks me up like I’m a bag of feathers and places me on his desk. My arms wraps around his neck, giving him allowance to roam my body with his hands. My breath hitches and I break away from our kiss.

He’s my professor and yet I don’t feel an ounce of guilt.