But when she broke the news about Kyle moving here and she needed to help him, I was conflicted. I wanted her, but she was still attached to the man.

That night at the park, I was at odds with myself. I wanted her but I couldn’t bring myself to ask if she was still in love with him.

If she was in love, how in God’s name will I ever compete with that? I did what I had to do, walk away.

But my Sienna didn’t make it easy for me. She had to drag that cretin to the club and flaunted him as he groped her right before my eyes. Rearing jealousy floored me and ripped me apart. I was done for.

I knew then.

I knew then if I didn’t possess her, I would be haunted by her forever. They say life was about taking a risks, right?

My sanity was at stake, the decision was done.

That same night, when finally she gave herself to me, something deep inside me shifted.

A soul-shifting change that touched the very core of my being, Sienna did that—unbeknownst to her.

The meeting ended, I thanked everyone as they departed and scampered back to their offices. Amelia sauntered towards me, placing her hand on my chest, a bold move for a bold woman. I met her three months ago when I made a quick trip down here to oversee the new branch along with the new project. I was attracted to her and she easily gave in to my advances, without hesitation. For two whole nights, I enjoyed her body. But seeing her now didn’t do anything for me. She obviously wanted to pick up where we left off.

“Señor Knightly, what time will you need me to be ready for the gala tonight?” We’re both going to represent the company and she’s my plus one.

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It’s all business and nothing else. She’s a daughter of a prominent family in Spain. She’s good at her job and she’s a great asset for the company. And it didn’t hurt that she has vast connections in the country.

“Be ready by six. You can go home and get ready. I’m sure we’ll be fine without you for the rest of the day.” I said calmly, cocking my head quickly and went back studying the paperwork I had in my hands. She leaned a little closer and grazed my cheek.

Her perfume was heady and I wanted to get away.

“I’ll be more than ready for you. See you tonight, mi amor,” she purred and sashayed her tight-clad body out the door.

Running my hand on my hair, I made a mental note to tell her I’m seeing someone else. She seems oblivious to the fact that I’ve declined her offers, several times. But she kept on coming nonetheless. Christ, that woman’s going to be trouble.

Releasing a heavy sigh, I went back to my office, sat on my desk and stared at the photo of the woman who irrevocably bewitched me.

It was a picture I took the next day after making love. That night, was one of the best nights I’ve ever had. She was worth the wait. When I woke up and saw her next to me, I had to keep a memento—to freeze that moment in my mind—she was everything that I’ve ever wanted in a woman and more. I grabbed my phone, and took the picture. Her hair was disheveled, lips slightly parted, and the sheet barely covered her br**sts. She looked so peaceful and absolutely breathtaking.

Something tugged inside me the more I stare at her. Christ, Knightly. You’ve got it so bad.

Pulling out my phone out, I checked for messages or missed calls. I got a few from friends and work, but none came from her.

I squeezed the bridge of my nose to ease some tension.

Buzzing the intercom and barked for Luke, my assistant who was hired a week ago in London, to come inside my office this instant.

“Yes, Mr. Knightly?” the composed blue-eyed blonde male asked.

“Can you check my schedule? Tell me when I’m free so I can visit London.”

After a minute or two, he came back again with the company iPad and checked the calendar. Clearing his throat, “Next week, you can leave Friday afternoon. But you have to be back early Sunday to make it for your golf meeting with the Mayor and other investors.”

“Fine, make sure the pilot knows. I want to leave at four and get there by six. Do it before you leave today. That would be it, Luke. Thank you.”

“Good day, Mr. Knightly.”

Fuck! Another week until I see her? Fuck!

Twenty-six

“Owww,” I yelped back as my tongue got burnt by the scalding coffee. I’ve been all over the place and my mind decided to take a vacation somewhere in Marbella. The first thing I did this morning was to check my phone the second I woke up. He never called or texted, he usually calls me before he goes to bed.

I huffed, if he’s still mad at me, okay. I can deal with that. But what I couldn’t fathom is someone telling me what to do. If he wants to be with me, he has to change. I’m not yielding to his demands.

I’m on my way to Chad’s studio in Camden town geared in all-black ensemble. Black cami, pants, and pumps. It definitely matched my mood and I’m in terrible need for girly time. I know Chat in all technicality speaking is a man, but he’s a woman at heart. His usual laissez-faire attitude would help pick up my mood.

Pulling the door to his studio, I let myself in and called out his name. The main floor was his actual art studio where he does some of his shoots and his touch-and-go penchant for painting. He only paints when he’s stressed out. But his main focus, pride and joy, is photography.

“In here, baby love!” he yelled behind the black drapes and I went directly to where he was.

My shoes clucking loudly against hard-wood floors as I walked.

My eyes scanned the room. The first thing I noticed was black. There were a lot of black drapes. It lined the room. The second thing I noticed was his equipment. There were a lot of scattered props. Black chaise lounge, black covered bed, huge mirrors, metal working table with a lot of strategically placed work-man tools, and an all black Harley Davidson Hot Rod sat in the middle of the room.

I dauntingly stared at the bike. Am I going to be on that thing? Or the guy named Troy?

“Like it? It’s such a sexy bike I pulled some strings to get a loaner. It’s going to be fabulous! Troy’s here somewhere,” Chad looked around and called out to him.

The man emerged from another black curtain draping on the other side of the room only dressed in a low-rise all black Armani micro-modal trunk. Holy Shit! My eyes landed on his bulging section and grazed through muscled thighs and up again his torso. Whoa, was that an eight pack? I’ve never seen one up close. He had the bad boy dark hair going on. A little long, brushing over his jaw, unruly but it gave him more appeal and a little edge. Dark hair, chocolate eyes, and a sexy grin as he saw me checked him out from head to toe.