XXII

Underneath the mizzle of cold water, Jordan stood with his head hung low as different thoughts ran a marathon endlessly through his mind. Eclectic thoughts they were, yet they all originated from one source — her. His siren of a therapist.

He groaned and ran his hand through his hair as he raised his head to collide his face with the drizzle flowing from the shower above his au naturel state. He looked hellishly beautiful as the drops of water raced down his sleek tanned body which was rippled with thick muscles and festooned with the finest of ink.

The scene that had played out downstairs crawled its way into his mind again and he could feel his fists clenching tightly, his jaw going tense as the overwhelming urge to rip apart every bone in the arms of the man that had held his gem consumed him. His gem.

But as much as he would like to torture him and watch as the life is drained out of his every being, he could not afford to lay a finger on him. He knew this man meant something to his gemstone. He didn't want to admit it but this man was important to her, that much he knew.

Since he moved in, she had been avoiding his presence. Jordan intended to use it to tease her but then he thought he would rather make it easier for her, so he would leave the house really early, get back way before she would arrive and stay in the room until midnight when he was sure no one was awake before going down to get something to eat.

He would either do that or just drown himself in the countless duties he had to fulfil as the Mafia Don and as a multi–billionaire businessman. He would spend the night in his office or house — of which the mess he had left behind had already been cleaned and replaced — only to return very early at dawn or some hours to noon when he was certain that they had all left the house.

He knew he hadn't been fair by guilt tripping her into letting him stay. She had been so adamant about him leaving or finding a much better alternative but in the spur of the moment, Jordan had decided to wield another, more effective weapon against her.

He had used Carol as an excuse.

How desperate could he have been to do that just because he wanted to get closer to her. All because he wanted to know the root of this attraction of damnation. But now, it seemed as though he were already too late.

She was taken.

As the water streamed down his body and down the drain, Jordan could feel his murderous fury slipping out of his grasp and it left behind only a rather unfamiliar feeling. A heaviness settled abysmally in the depths of his chest and he rubbed the area to try to ease the ache but to no avail.

Not understanding where the uncomfortable feeling came from, he frowned, his eyebrows tautening across his forehead. He didn't like it. He didn't like how the man had held her. He didn't like how they had looked so comfortable and good together. No he didn't, he hated it more than he had hated anything before.

But he couldn't help but think that they did really look good together. They fit like two predestined pieces in a puzzle and yes oddly, it hurt him but he knew he wasn't anything good for her. He was the monster children feared was beneath their bed. He was the villain in all of the fairy tales told to kids by their parents, if not worse.

He took people's lives as though he were killing mere insects. He was broken, shattered into a million pieces and there wasn't a glue, adhesive or tape that could piece him back together.

He was the devil's reincarnate and she – she was the perfect exemplar of an angel. He was stained, tainted and full of blemishes but she was pure and sinless. He was a viper, who dispersed poison amply and she was the antidote that rectified and provided the cure to every disease.

Jordan couldn't help but think that he would only taint her. He would only make her as miserable as he was. He didn't want to use her and dispose of her like he did other females. There was something about her that he couldn't just overlook. A strong attraction that kept pulling him towards her, yet he didn't know if he could surrender himself to such an unfamiliar vicinity. He didn't know if he could afford to swim in such dangerous waters.

As he recalled the memory again, Jordan could feel something different. The anger was still very much existent but there was another emotion much stronger than his birse and that was defeat.

Perhaps, he shouldn't have come here. Perhaps, he shouldn't have acted on the illusion of a feeling he felt for her. Perhaps, he shouldn't have taken his sister's advice to enjoy what he felt for her and not try to kill it, but instead, to watch it flourish.

The best thing for all of them would be for him to move out, he concluded. His head was throbbing. Hard. And his bloodshot eyes were shut tightly as he tried to garner his dispersed thoughts.

As much as he hated accepting defeat, he knew he had to do what he wanted to for not just her own sake, but for the sake of everyone around her. Jordan was no hero. Infact, he was the king of miscreants, of rapscallions – yet he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense to protect the shrink.

He couldn't explain it but he didn't want her to think of him as the monster everyone else saw him as. He wanted her to accept him for who he was but Jordan could only shake his head, clearing his mind of the fog of wishful thinking which were nothing but fantasies of his subconscious.

No one wanted him, that was an established fact. He only had his sister but now, it seemed like she didn't even need him anymore. She was no longer the Carol that needed every iota of his attention and protection. She was now a woman, a wife.

Mayhap because he was scared of accepting that he was alone once again, so he didn't want to digest the fact that his sister had grown up and was now married just yet.

Jordan was angry, confused, distressed, coupled with another strange feeling he couldn't quite decipher and the rush of the emotions that encircled him tonight put his mind in Sturm und Drang. He didn't want to admit it but for some reason, the way Emerald had been avoiding him had put him into more misery than what was deemed normal.

The feeling was weird and he didn't know if he was to accept it, do something to change it or just leave and never look back again. He was utterly confused – another weird feeling that had never even gotten the chance to see his shadow before but was now strangulating his very existence.

He heaved a sigh before opening his eyes to see the skin of his tightly fisted hands becoming pruned beneath the chilly downpour. Turning off the faucet, he had had enough of the cold showers and albeit he, in every way, hated what he had to do, he had made his decision.

He would leave.

Too wrapped up in his chain of thoughts figuratively, and literally wrapped up in a grey towel hanging around his waist, Jordan hadn't heard the knocks on his door earlier, until he walked in to meet the figure of the enchantress that had filled his thoughts.

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Forcefully gulping down the intransigent glob of nerves that hung in her throat, only to have it return with full force, Emerald felt her stomach churn in anxiety as she stood before the door which served as a barrier between her and the emotional roller coaster of a man in the guest room.

She heaved a sigh when she thought about how she had gotten herself into such a situation. Mayhap, she should've just gone to bed hungry or resorted to imbibing a glass of warm milk but that would be going against her mother's strict rule about going to bed peckish, so cooking dinner was inevitable.

After hers and Logan's encounter with Jordan, she had also gone to her room to take a much needed shower since she was smelling of the meal she had made. When she came back down, she had bumped into Logan, who was heading towards the stairs with his dinner.

Asking him why he wasn't using the dining table, he had given her the excuse of having some folders to sort out for delivery to his clients on the morrow. She knew he was lying because Logan never brought work home but she was just too overly burned out to handle anyone tonight, so instead, she had dished out Oriana's meal as well and had told him to drop it off.

After taking her own share, she looked at the leftover noodles before looking up at the stairs. She had somehow included Jordan's portion in the meal she had prepared.

Once or twice since he had moved in, she had caught him sneaking into the kitchen in the middle of the night to eat something. At first, she had thought he was going to steal and immediately, she began judging him and regretting her decision to let him stay but as she continued to watch him, she noticed he didn't touch the exquisite meals or delicacies that were in the refrigerator.

He had settled for a meager amount of cereal with about two tablespoons of milk – a quantity that wouldn't even sate a toddler yet alone, a full grown man. The second time as well, he had settled for a carrot with a glass of water.

Since then, Emerald had been drowning in guilt. She was a therapist yet she had been so quick to judge the man. She had even gone as far as avoiding his existence like a plague. The least she could do was provide him with something palatable for consumption but she wasn't sure when or whether he would want to touch the meal, so instead, she had taken a seat on the kitchen stool to wait for him to come down so she could give him his own share.

A few minutes had gone by but there wasn't a trace of him, so she began eating her lukewarm noodles while waiting. After a while, she had concluded that he wasn't coming downstairs anytime soon. She had not a choice but to take his dinner to him and that explained why she stood transfixed before his closed door.

She knew she could have just gone to bed, not caring if he ate dinner or not but something made her stomach twist uncomfortably at the thought of him going to bed hungry. Maybe it was the guilt or the indelible imprint of her mother's strict rule against going to bed peckish or perhaps, it was something else.

She pushed aside her thoughts before bestowing upon the door, an audacious knock – a total opposite of the anxiety she truly felt inside.

A few seconds passed but no response came. She knocked again, a teensy bit louder this time but once again, there was no response. With curiosity flooding through her veins, she balanced the tray on one arm before opening the door with the other.

Taking a quick peek inside, she let her eyes scan the space of the empty room before she entered, gently shutting the door behind her. Emerald's eyebrows furrowed when she noticed the empty room.

‘Had he left the house while I was taking a shower?’ she mused.

She was about to walk out of the room when she heard the shower running in the bathroom. A sigh of relief escaped her lips at the discovery. Looking around the practically empty room, which seemed as though it had no occupant – other than the clothes that lay sprawled out on the bed – she had thought that maybe he had moved out due to how rude and neglecting she had been.

But what truly stunned her was the immense relief she had felt when she heard the shower running. She had felt a tinge of happiness that he was still around. Why? She couldn't comprehend.

She placed the tray on his bedside table before proceeding to walk right out of the room, but she stopped short when her eyes caught sight of an object shimmering in the blackness due to the rays of moonlight from the open windows, seemingly calling her attention to itself.

She knew she should just leave before he emerged from the bathroom. She knew she shouldn't touch anything without his permission because even though this was her house, it was still his own room and he had every right to his own privacy. But she couldn't stop her curiosity from taking over. That was her flaw – she had to admit. But she could only pray it wouldn't be the cause of her death someday.

Bending down, she reached for the item to find her fingers wrapped around a bracelet. She examined it. It was composed of a few lambent black beads, four blue, red and white striped ones and at the middle, there were two adjoined fading plastic key figures. The entire pieces were held together by an elastic band.

The bracelet looked really old but the radiant beauty was undeniably arresting. Once again, Emerald was surprised. She hadn't pegged Jordan to be someone who took interest in such simple yet beautiful things.

She had tagged him to be a man that was overly precise and stiff with his choices. She had thought of him as a man whose authority and confidence resonated only because he was draped in all things luxurious, but once again, he had proved her wrong.

She looked down at the bracelet. Or perhaps, was there a backstory behind this ornament? Staring intently at the bracelet in her hand, she hadn't noticed the figure that had emerged from the bathroom until his deep, husky voice spoke up behind her.

“What are you doing here?”

With wide eyes, she swiftly turned around, almost losing her footing as she clumsily hit her calf against the bed frame. Wincing slightly from the pain, she swallowed before looking up at the man before her.

Immediately, her jaw dropped slightly like an unhinged door when she took in his half naked glory. To say the least, the only piece of clothing standing between her and a naked walking sex god was a gossamery towel.

As much as she wanted to look away, she couldn't. She remained transfixed in her spot as though she had been superglued like a figurine on a display shelf. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the ravishing masterpiece of a sculpture which, by sheer good luck or horrible bad luck, was being prominently displayed in front of her – for free!

His raven black hair was wet and trails of water formed a path down his neck, past his Adam's apple, all the way across his broad chest and taut abs – making his tanned torso scintillate in the moonlight.

Could this man get any more beautiful?

Emerald noticed that unlike his arms and shoulders, Jordan's torso housed no tattoo, not a single inkling. She wondered why, but somehow, she was glad she could see the acres of beautiful skin not hidden by rows and rows of drawings.

To sum it all up, he looked delectably luscious enough to devour.

Emerald blinked. ‘Where did that come from?’ Before she could further dwell on her thoughts, someone cleared their throat. She immediately looked up from the naked chest to meet expressionless brown orbs, which hid the true amusement their owner actually gained from her stunned reaction.

Emerald's ears and cheeks tinted pink when she realised she had been blatantly staring at a man's half naked body. All she wanted to do was dig up a hole and crawl right into it.

“You didn't answer my question,” he was enjoying the effect he had on her, so he took a step closer to her, earning a wide eyed emoticon reaction.

“Uh, I–uh. . .” she looked around, refusing to meet his eyes, “I found this,” she showed him the bracelet, hoping it would excuse the fact that she had barged into his room, disregarding his privacy. The guilt ate even deeper into her.

Looking at the jewelry dangling from her hand, Jordan frowned and retrieved the ornament from her hand before securing it around his wrist.

“It wasn't missing, I had left it on the bedside table before going to take a shower. Now, what are you doing here?” his gaze sharpened.

There was still lingering anger from the scene he had taken in downstairs and as he watched her try not to squirm under his gaze, his lips pulled up in a sneer when he looked at her bare shoulders, arms and legs. The memory of the man holding onto her and resting his chin on her skin made him clench his fists tightly.

He wanted nothing more than to drag her into the bathroom and scrub her body clean of his disgusting touch. He wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his own embrace and make his scent stay permanently glued onto her skin.

He took another step closer to her and consequently, she took one back in shock. He walked closer and even closer and she'd move farther away. He'd take a step forward, she'd take two backwards.

Soon enough, she ran out of space and fell right onto the bed, letting out a surprised squeal as he leaned over her body, his two strong arms trapping her as his intense coffee coloured eyes stared into her grassy ones.

Her fresh scent wafted its way into Jordan's nose and after inhaling deeply, his anger faded when he realised that she had taken a shower and had changed her earlier wine coloured tank top into a black one.

“I–I, uhm. . . You're invading my personal space,” her voice came out as a whisper and she couldn't help but cringe as she wondered what was happening to her. Why was she reacting like this?! Why did he have so much of an effect on her?

“Then I'd suggest you speak quickly. . .” his eyes momentarily darted to her lips before looking back into her eyes. “I am not a patient man.”

She gulped. “I brought y–you dinner?” he followed her gesture to the tray sitting on the nightstand.

“Why now?” he asked after a deafening silence.

“Uh?”

“You hadn't cared to bring me dinner since I moved in, so why now? Or perchance, did you poison it?” he chuckled darkly, malice evident in his forced laughter as he moved away from her to stand upright.

Emerald blinked, unable to comprehend the pang that spread across her chest. He actually thought she could poison him? Was that how cruel he thought her to be?

“You think I want to poison you?” she sat up on the bed.

He shrugged, his dark eyes watching her intently. “To get me out of your house? Yes.”

Standing up, she reached for the tray and removed the lid from the covered food. She stabbed a fork into the noodles before rolling up some of it. “Would I do this if it were poisoned?” she ate the portion, looking into his eyes as she did.

“I'm really sorry for how I'd been treating you since you moved in. Avoiding you like the plague, not being an hospitable hostess, for everything. I–I have absolutely no excuse but I'm not promising to be more affable than I currently am.

This is me – whether anyone likes it or not, this is who I am and I have no intention to change myself for anyone. Right now, I can only promise to not avoid you and to actually play my role as hostess properly,” she placed the tray back on the nightstand after replacing the lid.

“No matter what hate feelings you may harbour against me, it's not healthy to go to bed hungry or to eat so late at night,” she said, referring to when she had caught him eating cereal at such an ungodly hour.

She looked at him one last time, “Goodnight,” she headed for the door but a cold hand held her arm, spinning her around.

“I'll only eat that meal on one condition,” he spoke.

Seeing her inquisitive gaze, he elucidated, “If you'd bring dinner to my room every night.”