Layers (10 page)

Daniel waits for me by the open door in jeans and a dark gray tee, his damp hair in a crazy mess, as if he’s just gotten out of the shower.
Daniel in the shower
 … He looks almost illegally dazzling.

“Cool scooter. Didn’t know you were a biker.” He chuckles in a fond manner.

I fake a frown and reply, “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Mr. Stark.”

Nearing me, he hugs me and I am bathed in a fresh, seductive Daniel smell. He stretches his hand out to hold my chin, tilting my head up to face him.
Finally
, I think.

“Drop it with the Mr. Stark. You lost your right to call me that when you rejected my job offer,” he says in a semi hard voice, and caresses my chin with his thumb. I beam.

“Point taken, Mr. Daniel.”

He chuckles, sliding one of my curls between his finger and thumb, studying it for a prolonged moment. “Let’s get inside.”

I’m surprised by the interior of the house; it’s very different than what I expected. It’s so homey and simple, decorated in natural colors, nothing too stylish or too modern. Plainly, I love it.

“This is
my
humble casa.” He smiles, using the same words I used to describe my apartment yesterday.

Yesterday?
It seems like ages ago.

“Would you like the grand tour?” Daniel suggests. Soft hazel eyes stare at me expectantly.

“Of course I would.”
After all, it’s not every day I’m invited to Daniel Stark’s home.

“The living room,” he says, referring to the room we’re currently in. His hand on my lower back makes it hard for me to concentrate on anything. Soft light coming from a few standing lamps sets gives the room a calm feel. In the middle of the ample space lies an oversized L-shaped cream sofa with two wide brown leather recliners by its side. A low dark auburn coffee table occupies the area beside the sofa, positioned firmly over a thick orange shag rug. A large flat screen TV is on the front wall; on the adjacent one is a contemporary tile fireplace. I take in the room and can’t help but admire what I see. It oozes coziness.

“Kitchen.” Daniel tilts his chin, directing my attention to a vast but minimal, stainless steel and dark mahogany kitchen with a long eat-in island and eight red barstools. The kitchen looks impeccably clean—I would even say clinically clean. Taking my hand in his, Daniel leads me to a wide corridor that ends in doors to three different rooms. I enjoy the touch of his skin on mine, especially as his thumb lightly grazes the palm of my hand. The first door opens to a fully-equipped gym, with floor-to-ceiling mirrors. The second is a state-of-the-art game room that wouldn’t disgrace any commercial arcade hall. Daniel squeezes my hand softly, directing me back to the hall. The last door we stop at leads to a home cinema room with two rows of four black leather theater loungers positioned on a dark gray, almost black, wall-to-wall carpet, facing a screen that covers the entire front wall.

He runs his other hand through his damp hair making it messier than it already is. Contemplating something for a moment, he looks somewhat lost, as though having an internal debate. I observe him from the side.
What would that debate be about?
He shakes his head and, linking my hand in his, leads me to the opposite side of the house. We return through the hall in comfortable silence. When we pass the living room, there’s another corridor, shorter than the one we’ve just walked through. This one leads to two huge rooms: one is Daniel’s office, decorated in warm brown furniture that contrasts with the sheer white, bare walls. There are more than four active monitors on a massive computer table, making me think I’ve stepped inside a war room. The room next to the office is his master bedroom; I contemplate whether it’s the size of our entire apartment. There’s a natural wood king-sized bed in the middle of the room, one of the largest beds I’ve ever seen. I think how it would feel to lie here next to him on the same bed, feeling sweet warmth swim through me.

And then another thought crosses my mind, bothering me: who’s been sleeping with him in this bed? I’m not sure what disturbs me more, the fact that he’s had someone here or the fact that it bothers me more than I care to admit. Back to the present, I admire how the room seems to exude a sense of ease and serenity with its cream-colored walls and the spectacular panoramic view of the Pacific Ocean through the floor to ceiling windows.

“It’s amazing, Daniel. I love it.” I can’t hide the thrill entwined with my appreciation. “Though I must say, it seems gigantic for only one person.”

Daniel mutters quietly, “Bet it does.” He takes a deep breath. “There’s one last part I want to show you. Come with me.” He holds my hand more firmly, lacing his long fingers with mine, making me shiver ever so slightly at the currents his touch causes in me as he leads us outside. From the illumination of scattered garden lights in the evening darkness I can see the patio with a swimming pool, and a hot tub on a wooden deck. In the near distance, opposite the swimming pool, there are two guesthouses. But the most impressive part is the ocean view. It’s unlike any other place in the city, and is utterly breathtaking.

“Overwhelming,” I compliment him, taken aback by everything I’ve seen.

“Thanks.” He runs his fingers through my hair, caressing my cheek, and smiles.

These affectionate gestures again, I just hope their opposite siblings will not rear their hurtful heads also tonight.

“Now, let’s get snacks.” His lips quirk to a smile and he directs me back to the house, never releasing his grip of my hand. I can sense his stare on me as we walk side by side, talking about everything and nothing.

Daniel places a popcorn bag into the microwave. While we wait, he asks me what I would like to drink.

“So, about that fund raising event, Hayley. How about it? Will you be my plus one?”

Why wouldn’t you call it a date?
The formality itches.

“Won’t you be occupied? It’s an event you’re hosting, correct?”

“No. My company hosts the event,” he sighs, scratching his temple, his eyes moving from me to the microwave and back. “I’m not so keen about these events. Don’t get me wrong, I do highly appreciate what they stand for, and the outcome, but I could live without all the attention. You’d be welcome entertainment,” he says, smiling, tilting his head. Some strands of his hair rise up and stay that way. It enhances his rugged look, and I like every bit of it.

“I usually let my people be in the spotlight and stay back,” he adds.

I like the sound of this; it warms my heart, this humble layer of him again.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Penetrating hazel eyes searching mine.

“I like the fact that you don’t enjoy the spotlight,” I say quietly. “I thought you’d be different,” I add.

“Different how?”

“Good different,” I mumble, looking at him under my lashes.

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Hayley.” He regards me with a heartwarming smile. The microwave beeps.

“Here, hold the sodas.” Handing me two bottles, he grabs the popcorn from the microwave with one hand and a family-sized pack of M&Ms in the other. I smirk; he looks almost boyish, carrying all this junk disguised as food.

“What kind of movies do you prefer?” he asks as we walk slowly toward the cinema room.

“I have varied taste when it comes to movies. I like almost any genre,” I answer thoughtfully.

“How about some drama for this evening?”

Please no drama this evening, I had enough the last time
. “Drama sounds great.” I award him with a slim smile. He smiles back, the little scar on his lip teasing me as he does.
So we’re actually going to watch a movie. I definitely cannot read you, D
. I take off my jacket and slide into the cushioned lounger. Daniel, already comfortably slouched in the lounger next to me, drinks in my every move.

“I’m ready.” I grin at him; his lips curve and his eyes turn somewhat intense.

Ready to watch a movie, that is
. “What are we watching?”

“
Blood Diamond
,” he answers, eyes still stripping me. “It’s pretty old. I haven’t had the chance to see it, but it comes highly recommended, and you can never really fail with DiCaprio.”

“I can’t disagree with that,” I murmur and swallow hard, tense till he finally moves his predatory gaze away from me.

Daniel points the remote at the screen and it comes to life as the lights slowly dim out.

“Popcorn?” he asks, tilting the bag toward me.

“M&Ms, please.” I beam at him. The amused stretch of his lips widens as he hands me the bag. I sink deeper in the comfortable embrace of the chair and rest my left hand on the sofa’s arm. Soon Daniel covers it with his, lightly caressing. As a response to his touch my body inevitably trembles slightly.

“Are you cold?” he asks, husky and low.

On the contrary, my body’s reaction to your touch, sir, is far from being anywhere near cold.

“A little. I have my jacket,” I say, reaching for the oh-so unnecessary cover.

“I have a better suggestion.” His eyes twinkle in the faint light of the screen. “Come over, sit next to me. I’ll keep you warm.”

My heart tightens at the thought of what lies under these promising words. Breath is trapped in my throat as I stand up to sit next to him.
Perhaps we won’t watch this movie after all.

He shifts to accommodate enough space for me next to him, and I find myself lying by his side, his arm embracing me, my face comfortably resting on his firm chest, my leg on his. I am thoroughly cradled by him in this sweet darkness.

Daniel’s hand strokes my arm while we pretend to watch the movie. It’s too hard to concentrate in this tense proximity. I can feel his warmth, enriched with his intoxicatingly scented breath softly hovering over my face. All I yearn for is his lips to connect with mine. I tilt my head up to level with his stare; he inclines his face, his eyes drop to my lips for a fleeting moment, somewhat hesitant, and come back up to meet mine. At the encounter our eyes immediately lock, and the charge between us rapidly intensifies. He moves his hand to stroke my face, very gently starting from my cheekbone and slowly descending toward my neck. Everything beneath my navel churns with anticipation.

Daniel’s stare dims, full of feral promise, as he keeps on descending his stroking hand toward my cleavage, moving farther south to my breast, all the while his eyes on mine, seeking consent. His touch is getting more intense; I swallow hard; my body responds to him with keenness by arching to press deeper against him.

When his hand reaches my belt, he slides it under my top, gently grazing my skin with his fingers, raising tiny bumps all over. I am melting into his touch. Moving down again, he slides his hand under my belt and lowers it toward my underwear. I hold my breath as his warm touch reaches under the delicate satin fabric; heat waves flush through me from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. Pressing harder against my skin his hand descends, instigating a sweet, sweet pain.

He bends his head toward me and his lips halt at my neck, kissing it with warm, seductive, saturated kisses. He gradually moves his hand back and presses it flat against my waist, turning on his side, lying parallel to me, minimizing the gap between us. I slant my head to look at him, and our breaths blend. His face is lightly flushed, his eyes narrow, dilated pupils deepening his stare.

“Why won’t you kiss me?” I breathe quietly, looking at him under my lashes.

“I don’t kiss if I don’t mean it.” His voice is cold, cutting hard through me.

What do you mean by that?
I shrug inside, feeling as though a bucket of ice cold water was just brutally spilled over me, in one stroke killing the build up to this moment.

I look at him with a mixture of astonishment and fury. He acts like he’s all into me and then come these wounding words.

“What do you want from me, Daniel?” I ask, choking, very, very close to standing up and walking away.

“I don’t know,” he says, resting his head back with closed eyes, his face troubled.

“For a very determined man you don’t seem too decisive to me,” I say quietly, frustrated. “Is it anything specific about me?” I ask. “I’d be more than fine with the knowledge that all you want is to fuck me, though you sure have a strange way of showing it,” I continue, as anger takes the better of me.

“No, it’s not you.” He frowns at me and continues. “The thing is that I’m accustomed to something completely different.” I look at him absolutely puzzled, waiting for some sort of blessed elaboration to come, as I have no idea what the hell he’s talking about. “I haven’t dated anyone for a very long time now,” he says.

“Is it by choice? Were you abstaining?” I ask, still perplexed. It doesn’t seem like
he
would have a hard time finding dates.

“Oh no, I don’t. On the contrary. I see only professionals.”

I gawk at him in complete dismay, trying hard to make sense of what he just said.
The hell?

“Call girls, Hayley. Very expensive ones, who never misinterpret ‘no strings attached’, and
no,
I don’t kiss them,” he retorts.

I’m not a call girl, so why won’t you kiss me?
This is getting too hurtful; I’m getting more genuinely upset with every passing moment. There is a rapidly expending lump forming at the bottom of my throat. I thought I would be immune to him just like I was with all of his predecessors, but I’m not.
Who am I kidding? I am so far from that
. In the very short time we’ve known each other he’s managed to get under my skin, which allows him to hurt me like he just did.

I inch myself upright, and he studies me attentively, waiting for me to make a move or speak.

“I can’t do this, Daniel,” I murmur under my breath, grabbing my jacket. “I thought I could, but it seems I can’t.”

“Don’t, Hayley. Come back and lie next to me,” he says, his tone low and frustrated. He extends a hand toward me, but in mid-reach retrieves it to rest it on his thigh.