Heirs, 5

(POV: Renata)

"You don't need to ask me a question you already know the answer to," he rudely interrupts me.

I raise my head, refusing to be affected by his rudeness, and look deep into his eyes. I concentrate as hard as I can, trying not to be distracted by the intensity of his gaze, which seems to pierce my skin.

"Why did you do that?" I ask, suspicious, not breaking eye contact.

"Because I wanted to, and also because I couldn't let you die. It would have been a waste," he says, looking me up and down. Understanding the double entendre, I sense my face flush with warmth.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Deniel," I relish pronouncing his name.

"Alright, come on, I'll prepare something for you to eat; you must be hungry," he gets up and invites me with his hand.

I don't respond because my beloved stomach does me the favor of letting out a long. Loud growl, making me even more embarrassed. Deniel extends his hand to me, and I stare at it for a few seconds.

"Don't worry; I don't bite, unless you ask me to," he says with a seductive tone and winks. Cheeky!

As if I would ever ask for that, who's foolish enough to want to be bitten? I suppress the urge to roll my eyes.

I take his hand and rise from the bed. He guides me out of the room, through a small corridor. And down a flight of stairs that lead to a room where I see a three-seater couch, a coffee table, a small TV, and a bookshelf. From there, we head into the kitchen.

The kitchen is simple, with a small cabinet, a round table in the center. A sink attached to one of the walls, and a stove, which I think is wood-fired.

He pulls me to the table and seats me. He goes to the wall cabinet, takes out a can, and walks to the stove. He crouches down and adds some logs to the stove's mouth. I don't see how he lit the fire or where he got the pot and spoon, my eyes are fixed on his back. Unable to control my curiosity (because this is the first time I've seen a male body outside of books), my gaze travels down to his buttocks. And wow! It's much larger than mine! His legs are thick and well-defined...

Stop it, Renata! - my subconscious scolds me. I avert my gaze and stare at the table. After what seems like an eternity, he takes the can off the fire and places it on the sink. I refuse to watch his every move, only raising my head when he places a plate filled with what was in the can in front of me.

"Sorry, but this is all I have at the moment," he says, but I don't sense any guilt in him for offering 'only this.'

"It's okay, thank you," I say politely. My mother taught me good manners and humility. Even though I've never been among other people besides her. She taught me everything through bedtime stories.

I look at the plate and recognize it as soup, quite unappetizing, but I won't be rude to him. Taking a deep breath, I pick up a spoonful of the soup and bring it to my mouth. I close my eyes, expecting the worst taste in the world, but it doesn't come. I open my eyes and start eating like a ravenous beast.

"Easy there, the soup isn't going to run away," he chuckles.

"It's very delicious," I say with a mouthful of soup.

I finish the wonderful soup, and Deniel takes the plate to the sink.

"Well, I've told you my name. What's yours?"

"Oh, of course, my name is Renata, nice to meet you," I extend my hand, and he shakes it.

"Satisfaction, pleasure only in bed," he says and I almost choke on that sentence, we release our hands. Is he really hitting on me? I've read romance books, and I've always imagined that one day I'd live a love story. But I never thought anyone would have the courage to actually say those kinds of things in real life. "Well, over there," Deniel points to a little door in the corner of the kitchen. "There's a bathroom in case you want to shower and your backpack is in the living room."

"Alright, but I'll only change my clothes and continue my journey."

"I don't think it's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"It's already nighttime; sleep and rest a bit more, and resume your journey tomorrow morning."

- Alright, - I concede. I shouldn't trust this man so easily, but I sense like I can trust him.

Without saying anything else, I head to the living room and see my backpack on the couch. I open it and take out my black jeans, black tank top, and black underwear. Most of my clothes are black. I think it's a perfect color.

"You seem to like wearing black, don't you?" Deniel observes.

I almost drop my clothes in surprise.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" I say, hand on my chest.

"Not from fright," he whispers, but I can hear him and again my face heats up as I realize that instead of scaring me to death. He wants to kill me with pleasure.

I head to the bathroom, take a freezing cold shower (the water is ice-cold!), and forget to grab a towel. So, I put on my wet clothes and return to the living room, where I stash my dirty clothes and sit on the couch.

I look around and can't resisrs over the books, and for some reason, I sense a shiver.

"Are you interested in reading?" Deniel asks, intrigued, as he enters the room.

"Yes, even though I never have much spare time, I really enjoy reading," I explain.

His arm reaches over me, and his woody scent fills my nostrils. A sigh, never before released by me, escapes my mouth. Daniel takes a book off the shelf, and I turn to face him.

"What do you like to read the most?" he ask.

"A bit of everything, I enjoy gaining knowledge," I shrug.

"Take this; consider it a memento from me," he says, holding the book out to me. I raise an eyebrow.

I take the book from his hand and look at the cover, which depicts a couple embracing. I check the title, which reads: "Farewell to Humanity."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

I say nothing more and head toward the path I memorized leading to the bedroom. I lie down on the bed and stroke the book's cover. I start reading and don't know how much time passes, but when I come to, the day has already dawned.