Belonging

Chapter 11

Recap:

"What did I miss?" Clayton smiled at his two most cherished relations on the planet. The phone call had put him in a good mood.

"Just a cursory introduction to one another." Blackwood's deep voice drawled out.

Chapter 11:

"Victoria, you're going insane." Mumbling to herself in frustration, Victoria began repeatedly banging her head against the desk top.

After a painfully awkward encounter with Blackwood, she had been feeling out of sorts, always glancing over her shoulder and checking the shadows for the menacingly handsome figure of Clayton's closest friend. She knew that he was merely safeguarding his friend against the evil clutches of gold diggers, but she couldn't contain the shiver that travelled up her spine each time her thoughts drifted to the previous week's meeting. Clayton himself had been noticeably missing, not a single word of his whereabouts had reached her ears. The guards placed around the house had been frustratingly quiet about his activities for the past two weeks. Not a single sign of him in the house as the hours had bled into days.

Over the days he'd been painfully absent from her sight, she'd lost a lot more sleep than she'd care to admit. Her senses remained on the lookout for the heartbreakingly familiar voice and footsteps of her savior through the empty house. Her guards had been expressly ordered to remain posted outside the house and they avoided any contact with her, lest they risk the wrath of their employer.

Despite her best effort, Victoria found a part of herself craving his magnetic presence. She wanted to bask in the pleasure his undivided attention brought her, for whenever she was in the same room as him, she was sure of the fact that majority of his attention was focused on her and her alone. That sort of obvious attraction had the capability to wreak havoc in her mind. Deny it she may, but even she knew the futility of ignoring her now obvious dependence on the man who had bought her and saved her from a no doubt gruesome fate.

In the span of a mere two months, Clayton had managed to carve out a niche in her heart, despite her best efforts to remain indifferent to his charming and mesmerizing personality. Letting out a heartfelt sigh, Victoria made her way into the one room she had not dared to set foot in since her arrival in the house months ago; Clayton's bedroom. Silently, she stood in front of the closed door, her conscious waging a desperate war against her heart. Did she or did she not dare enter?

Unintentionally squaring her shoulders, she grasped the cool metal doorknob and opened the door, darting inside and swiftly closing it behind her. The room itself was a curious blend between luxury and a purely masculine elegance. Royal blue wallpaper covered the walls, lending the room a rather dark and mysterious air. Trailing a hand over the set of large, blocky chairs placed in front of the fireplace, she lit the fire to warm the cold room. Settling back into the comfortable chair, she took a blanket placed over the back of the chair and tucked it around her. Content to feel the warmth of the blazing fire on her face, warming her from the inside out, she left the exploring of the room for later. Entranced by the dancing flames of the fire, she stared absentmindedly into the flickering flames as her mind mused over the newly disclosed set of emotions.

"I know I shouldn't be here, but I can't seem to help myself." She muttered to herself.

Victoria knew it was an invasion of privacy to venture into someone else's personal domain, and that too without permission. Although loathe to admit it, she missed Clayton, missed his enigmatic presence. Craved the sense of comfort and familiarity he brought by merely being under the same roof as her. She knew that whatever detained him, must be a serious matter, but couldn't help but be curious. She had grown selfish in the time spent with him. Always used to being the center of his attention and although mostly unwanted, his affection as well. She couldn't help but feel like a discarded toy. Left to her own devices as the man had grown bored with her virginal self. She was painfully aware of the fact that she had not done anything in the short life she had lived so far, to warrant even a fraction of the attention bestowed upon her by Clayton. She was a rather plain girl, and held no special qualities to differentiate her from the other females of her ilk. A wave of depression wafted over her as she recalled that she was nothing but painfully normal, just like any other girl one may pass in the street.