I open my mouth to ask more questions, but before I can ever voice them, James effectively cuts me off by pressing a button to raise the glass separating the front seat from the back.
"Sit back and relax, Miss Martin," he instructs me. "We'll be there soon enough."
Still a bit dazed by everything, I do as he says and sit back, my head swimming with questions.
More than a few nerves are overtaking me, but I push them away, telling myself that I'm just overanalyzing everything.
What's that saying? Don't look a gift horse in the mouth?
I should rejoice at this opportunity. I don't know what stroke of luck put me in this man's path, but I'm determined to make the most of it. I might not know the first thing about being the personal assistant to a rich and powerful businessman, but I'm smart, and I can learn.
I just hope Mr. Argyle is a reasonable man to work for.
Six
Stephan
I smellher the moment she steps through the door. Her intoxicating scent wafts right to me. It's the most powerful elixir, sending fire rushing through my veins. I feel my fangs pushing against my gum line, but I bite them back.
It took every ounce of self-control I had to allow James to be the one to go collect her this morning. I wanted to pick her up myself. I hate the fact that I can't get closer to her, but it's for her own safety. I don't know if I can control myself being that close to her. I barely did the first time she stumbled across my path.
I let out a self-deprecating laugh at that thought. I'm not sure I can trust myself around her, and yet here I am, bringing her directly into my space. I'm a glutton for punishment. A masochist, apparently, because this will be torture.
I can't be with her, and yet I can't be without her either. I need to be near her even while I need to keep a certain distance from her. This way I'll know where she is at all times, and I'll know that she's safe, but I'm still going to maintain my distance.
Just because she's going to be my personal assistant doesn't mean that she ever needs to see my face. I can't chance her recognizing me.
The windows to my office look like mirrors from the outside, but from the inside, they're completely translucent. I can see everything going on outside my office while still maintaining complete privacy for myself. That was a bit of ingenious engineering on my architect's part if I say so myself, seeing as how I am the architect.
When you live as long as I have, you have enough time to dabble in a bit of everything. I'm not only a competent businessman. I'm also skilled in several trades. I've certainly had plenty of time to master many crafts over the years. Immortality gives you the chance to delve into everything that ever interests you. You're not confined to the limits of time. You don't have to pick and choose.
Still, none of that matters. Everything that humans wish they could do becomes inconsequential over the flow of time.
I straighten, my senses going on high alert. She's getting closer. I can tell it. Her scent is almost overpowering now.
The elevator dings, and my eyes snap up to watch as James escorts her across the floor. I'm standing right in front of the window of my office. This is as close as I dare get to her.
She looks breathtakingly beautiful, though I'm not a fan of the twisted-up hair. I prefer to see those beautiful golden locks flowing freely down her back. On the other hand, though, having all her hair pulled back from her face only highlights her big, luminous blue eyes.
James shows her to her desk and leaves her there to await further instruction.
For a long moment, all I can do is stare at her, watching her settle in as she opens drawers and checks everything out.
I finally pick up my phone and call her. She's no doubt going to think it's strange that her boss calls her instead of meeting her face to face, but the good thing about being as rich as I am is that leeway is made for a bit of eccentricity. If she gets curious about how I look and tries to look me up on the internet, she'll find nothing. Another thing that money can buy. I've had all traces of any photos of me wiped completely off the net, so it'll be much harder for her to get her hands on what I look like.
She's an enigma to me. I'm still not entirely sure what I plan on doing with her—or even what Icando with her—but I know I'm not willing to let her go. At least not at this point.
I can't. I'm physically incapable of it. I'm probably the strongest vampire in the world, and yet the thought of never seeing this tiny human again is enough to make something twist violently within me.
"Hello," her voice is tiny and soft as she answers the office telephone. It sends heat rushing straight to my groin.
"Hello, Elena," I croon her name at her, not even bothering with the formality of calling her Ms. Martin. To me, she's simply Elena. My Elena. "I'm Stephan, your employer."
"Oh, hi, Mr. Argyle," she stammers, obviously nervous.
I frown at her formal use of my surname. "Please, just call me Stephan."
There's a long pause on the other end before she finally concedes and voices what I've so longed to hear, "Okay, Mr.—er, sorry, um, Stephan,"