I let Christine lead me inside her room. Her bedroom is broad. The first thing I notice is looking up at the ceiling and what do you know another chandelier, but it's beautiful compared to the others I have seen. It's wider and made with clear crystal and bright six lamps around it. The color and brightness are perfect in almost every way possible.

  Walking further into her room, I notice a giant bed in the center made up of lavender fabric mixed with cotton and polyester to create a satin luster look; making it look super modern and graceful. As my eyes travel up to the white walls, I catch sight of pieces of artwork such as a portrait of Bloch Bauer I- "The Lady in Gold", painted by Austrian artist, Gustav Klimt, and then another catches my eye a stunning painting of Nafea Faa Ipoipo, it translates to "When Will You Marry?" created by Paul Gauguin. Do you have any idea how much these paintings cost? If they are originals then they cost over a million dollars.

  I stand absorbing the decor when Christine comes up to me and says, "It's beautiful isn't it?"

  I nod and mutter, "Yes... Are these pieces original?" I question.

  "Yeah, I take it you're a lover of art?" She asks me.

  "I had study art history for a semester." I flash a brief look at Christine, who remains impressive. 

  "That's lovely, did you enjoy it?" She turns shining her eyes toward me.

  "Hmm-huh, I found it really fascinating learning different types of artists and the way they use color or textures in their art," I say softly.

   "Same... I took art history as well when I was in college. I study it for 2 years," she smiles. "The paintings tell a story, they're like a soul upon the canvas, a story of colors. The creativity of art brings it to life; inspiring, and enchanting, bringing us closer to what life is really about. I think the artist gives it inspiration, or that is how I see it when the artist truly loves their art and make it become compelling." Her tone is full of endearment and the way she talks about the art is captivating.

   "But enough of me going on about art, let's get you some pajamas," she says as she walks over to the chestnut drawer and pulls out a long red silk nightgown. "I think this would do," she smiles when she holds it up and I take it.

  "Thank you, but I can't-"

  "Don't sweat it, I have a hundred just like those." I slightly giggle at how much she's like her brother who doesn't like to hear the word "no," and would also cut you off before you can say it. "You can use my bathroom and I have makeup remover if you feel you need to take it off," she says smiling as she leads me to her enormous bathroom, the tile and vanity unit is a light grey with brass fittings and wood to add warmth bringing it luxurious and elegant at the same time. I eye the extensive silver frame that goes around the mirror giving its own personifying look. It really is luxurious.

   "I do love how you put on your makeup," she utters snapping me from admiring the bathroom and pulling my eyes to her.

  "Oh, thank you but actually my friend, Camile did my makeup. I literally don't know how to apply it on my face; I barely know how to put on chapstick," I laugh.

  "Well, your friend does nice work. I should ask her to do my makeup, lord knows I need a new makeover."

   I don't know why she would feel the need to change her look; I mean she's already flawless. Her skin is a nice shade of ivory cream and her cheeks are like roses against the deep red of the dress she's wearing. She's so beautiful without any makeup.

   I shake my head. "You shouldn't say that. You're beautiful just the way you are," I compliment her; I'm just being honest.

  "Really?" She objects, but her voice is in a polite tone.

  I nod. "Yes, really."

  She smiles, her cheeks flushing. "Thank you, Sussianna. That's very kind of you to say... I should let you change; I'll give you some privacy," she says leaving me in the bathroom and I'm left alone to wander in my own thoughts. I can't help thinking about dinner and how they both acted strange when I mentioned her tattoo. It seemed like neither of those two wanted to talk about it. I still wonder if that symbol on her wrist means something to both of them?

  I place my hands on the marble countertop and stare at myself in the mirror. "Fidele jusqu'au dernier souffle, (Loyal until the very last breath)" I repeat. I shake my head and roll my eyes saying, "It's just a tattoo, damn it; nothing bad can happen with just a tattoo... Can it?"

  Still glaring at myself in the mirror, I take a deep breath, releasing away any anxiety I have and I push away my senseless thoughts. I grab the makeup remover called, Clinique, and just apply a little on a cloth- since it's probably expensive- and scrub the makeup from my face until it is fully gone. I didn't know makeup takes a while to remove till now. I start to undress out of the clothes Camile gave me and slip the nightgown on over my body. The soft material caresses my body; it seems that everything I am wearing today clings to me. I look down and notice that the hem goes over my knees, it's longer than the mini-skirt but in my opinion, it is still short. However, I do love how cozy and soft it feels against my skin.

  I snatch my clothes and reach for the doorknob. Opening it, Christine is laying down on her bed with her feet up in the air. When she spots me coming out, she sits up and jumps off of her bed.

  "I can take your clothes if you like and Mrs. Brooks can wash them," she shrugs as she holds out her hands.

  I place my clothes onto her small arms saying, "That would be great, thank you."

  "No problem," she smiles and that fills my heart with warmth. "I wanted to ask you where did you get your outfit?"

  "Camile made them. The one who did my makeup," I half-smile.

   Her grin widens, "Your friend seems very talented."

  "She is," I agree.

  A tentative knock interrupts us.

  "Come in," Christine says in a high-pitched voice.

   Chris pokes his head around the door. "Sussianna, are you coming to bed?" He asks through his teeth. He eases the door open and stands under the threshold with his arms crossed dressed in black sweatpants and a black shirt. I never have seen him in sweatpants other than just jeans; it's nice how the fabric hangs loose on his legs.

   "Hmm, okay," I say somewhat confused. I do not even know where I would sleep; perhaps in one of the many rooms, this mansion has. I have no doubt this place has more than two bedrooms.

   I turn to Christine and say, "Thank you for letting me use your makeup remover and your pajamas."

   "Of course, Sussianna," she smiles again; a warm lopsidedly dimple grin. It's clear that she's generous; she would give anything to someone, even her own shirt, especially if they were in need of it. She reminds me a lot of my father, I assume that's why I like his sister because in the short time I have known her, she seems like a kind-hearted person.

   Before I can say another word, Chris reaches for my hand and leads me out of his sister's room but I say goodnight to her before he closes the door.

   He walks me to a white door and opens it slowly. As he holds the door I cautiously step through the threshold and into a bedroom. It's large and sparsely furnished. The walls are navy blue and the furniture is mixed with white and oak textures; a giant bed dominates the room, dressed in rich satin linen in white and shades of black.

   But what catches my eye is a wooden desk crammed with photos. I move closer to the frame and Chris follows behind me. I look up at it and I realize it's Chris, a younger version of him that looks like he's twelve or thirteen I am not sure, but he looks to be in a suit and tie standing in front of Etretat Cliffs north of France. I have never been there but I heard it's beautiful. My eyes stare at the young Chris and those baby blue eyes glaring back at me.

   "This is my room," he whispers.

   I turn from looking at the little boy to the present Chris now standing right beside me who is blazing at me with those same baby blue eyes, but at the moment these eyes are a deep shade of blue that pulls me in, trying to invite me into his soul.

  "I thought I would sleep somewhere else?" I lift up my eyebrow.

  "And I thought you could stay in my room unless you don't want to sleep with me," he grins.

   I shrug. "I don't mind," I say boldly and he smiles. However, that's all we are doing is sleeping. Even so, are you sure that's all you'll be doing is going to bed? My subconscious chimes in, invading my head once again, and I wish I did not have a conscious sometimes.

  "I'm sorry about my sister. She can be... a nagger," he says as backs up and removes his shirt, distracting me from my thoughts with his muscular body.

  "She's not a nagger at all," I say defensively. "In fact, I actually love your sister," I utter the words, I never thought I would say that to him, but technically I just love his sister and for that reason, I will defend Christine in any way possible.

   He takes a step toward me and I step back. I know once he comes near me, especially with no shirt, I will be defenseless against him whatever he's thinking to do.

   "Hmm, you love my sister?" He asks, the corner of his lips twitching. His eyes twinkle, and I nod. "Well being my sister, I would think she's a nagger sometimes. And once in a while, I need a distraction from her," his voice is low and seductive as he moves closer and my heel hits against the desk- the photos wobble.

   I'm trapped and have no way to run. He smirks, that grin proving he has me and no escape, but I could not run even if I wanted to, somehow my feet are like cement, molded to the ground.

   "A-and what's your distraction?" I ask my voice barely audible; laced with something I'm already familiar with... lust.

   He brings his hand up to my cheek and strokes it with his thumb. I close my eyes. I'm not sure whether I did this to free him from my subconscious or because I want to be in this moment- to feel his touch.

   His thumb begins to brush over my lips. I let my mouth fall slightly open, so I can breathe. He continues moving to my bottom lip and caresses it.

  "You're my distraction," he finally says.

   I open my eyes, meeting his gaze. His eyes are a deeper shade of blue than before, almost as dark when the sky turns to nightfall.

   "Wait, I thought you were mad at me?" I frown and look away from him.

   "Not right now. All I want is you," he grabs me by the hair and gently tugs it so I can look up at him.

   "But shouldn't we be talking about-" I began to protest but he places his index finger over my mouth to shut me up.

   He moves his hand down to my thigh. His fingers push up the nightgown, showing my panties. He grins as his fingers draw circles on my bare skin. Goosebumps rise to my skin and he tries to hide his smile, but I can clearly see that he's enjoying this. I want to stop him but I can't seem to push him away.

   Chris's fingers trail further up my inner thigh slightly moving near my panties and I gasp. He smirks again as he becomes aware of how his touch has affected me.

   "Mhmm, your body is so responsive to my touch," he breathes into my ear and gently bites at my earlobe. I start to moan and suddenly he kisses me, taking my cries into his mouth. I part my lips allowing him to access my mouth.

   He tastes luscious. The same taste as always mint, but as our tongues intertwine a new flavor appears... wine. Oh no. Not liquor. I know with the taste of wine, I won't be able to control my old drinking habits. This is not good. Quickly I stop our kiss and lean back; away from his mouth.

  He blinks a couple of times, stunned by what I just did. "What's wrong?"

  I shake my head. "Nothing," I say but he's about to challenge me, so before he can say anything, I swiftly move my hands to his arms and trace the swirls of waves. I began to move my fingertips to his chest and down to the rose petals falling on his stomach. His eyelashes flutter as I keep tracing the petals and then he looks up at me, meeting my gaze. He gives me a demure look from beneath his lashes.

   At least he's stopped giving me a leering stare and not fighting me, nor questioning my sudden reaction to pull away from our kiss.

  "Turn around," he demands.

   What? Why does he want me to do that?

   I stand there looking at him in disbelief. He can't be serious.

   He rolls his eyes. "Stop thinking and for once can you do as you are told?"

   Stop controlling me!

  "I promise you'll enjoy it," he adds with a smirk.

  "What are you planning to do?" I ask as I raise my eyebrows.

   "You'll see. Now turn around... Please," he begs.

   Now he's pleading with me? He really wants me to do this. I finally give in and turn to face the door.

     Whoa, a little spicy so far! The next chapter will be heated so if you are not into that then you can skip it, and if not then who is stopping you, lol. But this book is rated for mature audiences, and in the very beginning you have been warned but you can skip it if it's not your thing, I completely understand.