Chapter 7
2011 Words
The morning after the almost kiss, Miguel Anguer behaved as though nothing had happened.
Anya found this extremely irritating.
At breakfast, he was perfectly composed.
He read his newspaper.
Drank his coffee.
Checked his phone.
Reviewed financial reports.
He didn't mention the darkness, the storm, the basement, or the fact that their faces had been only inches apart.
Not once.
Anya, on the other hand, couldn't stop thinking about it.
Every time she heard his footsteps, she remembered his hand around her waist.
Every time he spoke her name, she remembered the way he'd whispered it.
And every time she entered his office, she wondered whether he was thinking about the same thing.
Apparently, Miguel had decided that ignoring the incident was the best strategy.
Unfortunately for him, Anya was not going to let him get away with it.
She placed his coffee on the table.
"Good morning."
"Good morning."
"Did you sleep well?"
"Yes."
Anya smiled.
"Really?"
Miguel looked up.
"Yes."
"Interesting."
"Why?"
"I thought you might have had trouble sleeping."
Miguel's expression remained perfectly calm.
"I slept very well."
"That's a shame."
His eyebrow lifted.
"Why?"
"Because I didn't."
Miguel's fingers stopped moving.
For one brief second, his expression changed.
Then he returned to his report.
"I'm sorry to hear that."
Anya smiled.
"Are you?"
"Yes."
"You're a terrible liar."
"So you've mentioned."
She turned away.
Miguel watched her.
His face remained calm.
But inside, his heart was racing.
He had barely slept.
Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered how close she had been.
He had almost kissed her.
And he had wanted to.
More than he should have.
He was still thinking about it when the front door opened.
Harris entered.
"Sir, we have a visitor."
Miguel looked up.
"Who?"
"Dr. Christopher Picque."
Miguel's expression immediately changed.
"Why?"
"He said he was invited by your mother."
Miguel sighed.
His mother had always enjoyed interfering in his life.
"Send him in."
A moment later, Christopher Picque entered the room.
He was tall, handsome, and effortlessly charming.
Unlike Miguel, who looked as though he had been born angry, Christopher always appeared relaxed.
His smile was warm.
His manner polite.
He wore a light gray suit and carried a small bouquet of flowers.
Anya was standing near the window.
Christopher noticed her immediately.
His expression softened.
"Hello."
Anya turned toward his voice.
"Good morning."
Christopher smiled.
"You must be Anya."
She nodded.
"Yes."
"I'm Christopher."
"Nice to meet you."
"The pleasure is mine."
Miguel watched them.
Something about the exchange bothered him.
He couldn't explain why.
Christopher looked at Anya differently.
Not with pity.
Not with curiosity.
With genuine interest.
Christopher walked closer.
"I brought these."
He held out the flowers.
Anya smiled.
"For me?"
"Yes."
She accepted them.
"Thank you."
Miguel stared at the bouquet.
Roses.
Red roses.
He frowned.
Anya brought them close to her face.
"They smell beautiful."
Christopher smiled.
"I thought you might like them."
Miguel suddenly spoke.
"Flowers attract insects."
Silence.
Anya slowly turned toward him.
"Excuse me?"
Miguel looked completely serious.
"Flowers attract insects."
Christopher raised an eyebrow.
Anya stared at Miguel.
"That's your excuse?"
"It's science."
Christopher laughed.
Anya covered her mouth.
Miguel looked annoyed.
"What?"
"Nothing," she said.
But she was smiling.
Christopher looked at Miguel.
"I suppose you're right."
Miguel nodded.
"Good."
Christopher smiled.
"Still, I think they're worth the risk."
Anya laughed.
Miguel's jaw tightened.
He didn't like that laugh.
Not when Christopher caused it.
Later that morning, Christopher sat with Miguel in the study.
"I heard about the attack," Christopher said.
Miguel's expression hardened.
"It's handled."
"Your hand?"
"Fine."
"And Anya?"
Miguel looked up.
"Why are you asking about Anya?"
Christopher smiled.
"Because she was involved."
"She's fine."
"Good."
Miguel returned to his paperwork.
Christopher watched him.
"You care about her."
Miguel's pen stopped.
"No."
Christopher laughed.
"That was a very fast answer."
"Because it's a stupid question."
"Is it?"
Miguel looked at him.
"She's my employee."
Christopher nodded.
"Of course."
Miguel didn't like the way he said it.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're smiling."
"I find you interesting."
"I'm not interested in being interesting."
Christopher laughed.
"That's exactly what makes you interesting."
Miguel sighed.
He already disliked this man.
Over the next several days, Christopher began visiting the mansion regularly.
He always had an excuse.
Sometimes it was to speak with Miguel.
Sometimes it was to discuss medical matters with Harris.
Sometimes he claimed he was simply checking on Anya.
That last excuse annoyed Miguel the most.
And Christopher always brought something.
Flowers.
Books.
Chocolate.
Fruit.
Once, he brought Anya a small music box.
"It's beautiful," Anya said.
Christopher smiled.
"I thought you might enjoy the sound."
Miguel watched from across the room.
"She doesn't need gifts."
Christopher turned.
"Why not?"
"Because she works here."
Christopher smiled.
"She's still allowed to receive gifts."
Miguel frowned.
Anya laughed.
"Mr. Anguer, are you jealous?"
"No."
"You're glaring."
"I'm thinking."
"About flowers?"
"About business."
Christopher smiled.
"Of course."
Miguel glared at him.
One afternoon, Anya was in the garden when Christopher joined her.
He walked beside her.
"I hope I'm not bothering you."
"You're not."
"I heard you like the garden."
"I do."
"What do you like about it?"
"The sounds."
"The sounds?"
"The wind."
Anya smiled.
"The birds."
She paused.
"The flowers."
Christopher looked at her.
"You can't see them."
"No."
"But you still enjoy them."
"I don't need to see something to appreciate it."
Christopher smiled.
"That's a beautiful way of thinking."
Anya laughed.
"You're very poetic."
"Only when necessary."
They continued walking.
From the balcony above, Miguel watched them.
He had no idea why he was standing there.
He had been working.
Then he'd looked outside.
And there they were.
Christopher walking beside Anya.
Anya smiling.
Miguel's mood immediately darkened.
Harris appeared behind him.
"Sir?"
Miguel didn't turn.
"What?"
"Would you like me to bring you some coffee?"
"No."
"Tea?"
"No."
"Perhaps something stronger?"
Miguel finally turned.
"Why?"
Harris smiled.
"You look upset."
"I'm not."
"Of course."
Miguel looked back at the garden.
Harris followed his gaze.
"Oh."
"What?"
"Nothing."
Miguel narrowed his eyes.
"Why did you say 'oh'?"
"I didn't."
"You did."
Harris smiled.
"I believe Dr. Picque is very fond of Miss Margo."
Miguel's expression became colder.
"That's none of my concern."
"Certainly."
"I don't care."
"Of course."
"Stop saying that."
Harris laughed.
Miguel walked away.
That evening, Anya found Miguel in his office.
She placed his dinner on the desk.
"You haven't eaten."
"I'm not hungry."
"Why?"
"I'm busy."
"You've been staring at the same page for ten minutes."
Miguel looked up.
"I have."
"Yes."
"Maybe it's an important page."
"Maybe you're distracted."
"I'm not."
Anya smiled.
"You're jealous."
Miguel nearly dropped his pen.
"I'm not jealous."
"Then why did you tell Christopher that flowers attract insects?"
"Because they do."
"You're ridiculous."
"I'm scientific."
Anya laughed.
Miguel watched her.
He hated how much he loved that sound.
"Do you like him?"
Anya stopped.
"Who?"
"You know who."
"Christopher?"
Miguel didn't answer.
Anya smiled.
"Are you asking because you're curious?"
"No."
"Then why?"
"Because I need to know."
"Why?"
Miguel's expression tightened.
"You're avoiding the question."
"So are you."
He stood.
They were suddenly very close.
Anya could feel his presence.
Miguel looked at her.
"I don't like him."
Anya raised an eyebrow.
"You don't have to."
"I don't."
"Then stop glaring at him."
"I don't glare."
"You do."
"I look."
"Angrily."
Miguel sighed.
"Fine."
Anya smiled.
"Jealous."
"I'm not jealous."
She laughed.
"You're terrible at this."
Miguel stepped closer.
"Maybe I don't like sharing."
Anya's smile faded.
"Sharing what?"
He looked at her.
Then his expression changed.
He seemed to realize what he had almost said.
"Nothing."
He stepped away.
Anya remained still.
Her heart was beating quickly.
The following morning, Christopher arrived with another bouquet.
This time, they were white lilies.
Anya smiled when she smelled them.
"These are beautiful."
"I thought they might brighten your day."
"Thank you."
Miguel walked into the room.
He saw the flowers.
Then Christopher.
Then Anya.
His expression became unreadable.
"Again?"
Christopher smiled.
"She likes them."
Miguel looked at Anya.
"Do you?"
"Yes."
Miguel nodded.
"Fine."
He walked past them.
Anya heard him mutter:
"Ridiculous."
Christopher laughed.
"He really doesn't like me."
Anya smiled.
"He's difficult."
"Does he treat you well?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Christopher's voice became serious.
"You deserve someone who respects you."
Anya was quiet.
Christopher continued:
"Someone who sees you for who you are."
Anya smiled.
"You're very kind."
"I mean it."
She nodded.
"Thank you."
Neither noticed Miguel standing at the doorway.
He had heard every word.
And something inside him twisted.
That afternoon, Miguel made an unexpected announcement.
"Anya."
She appeared.
"Yes?"
"I'm taking you to dinner."
Anya blinked.
"What?"
"Dinner."
"Why?"
"Because I need to discuss something."
"Business?"
"Yes."
She paused.
"Why not discuss it here?"
"Because I want to."
Anya smiled.
"Is this because Christopher is taking me to dinner tomorrow?"
Miguel froze.
"He's doing what?"
Anya laughed.
"Nothing."
Miguel stared at her.
She smiled.
"You really are jealous."
"I'm not."
"You're making the face."
"What face?"
"The angry floor face."
Miguel sighed.
"I hate that nickname."
"I know."
That evening, Miguel took Anya to an expensive restaurant.
The manager greeted them personally.
Anya sat across from him.
"This isn't a business dinner, is it?"
"It is."
"What business?"
Miguel paused.
"I haven't decided."
Anya laughed.
"You kidn*pped me for dinner without a reason."
"I invited you."
"That's not much better."
He smiled.
For the first time in days, Miguel seemed relaxed.
They talked.
Not about business.
Not about the investigation.
Not about Christopher.
They talked about childhood memories.
Favorite foods.
Music.
Books.
Anya learned that Miguel secretly loved old romantic movies.
He denied it.
She caught him lying.
He learned that Anya loved rainy afternoons and hated overly sweet desserts.
He remembered.
When dinner ended, Miguel walked beside her.
"I enjoyed tonight."
Anya smiled.
"So did I."
He stopped.
She stopped.
For a moment, the memory of their kiss almost returned.
Neither mentioned it.
Then Miguel said:
"Anya."
"Yes?"
"About the other night..."
Her heart raced.
He took a breath.
"I..."
Before he could finish, his phone rang.
Miguel looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
He answered.
"Anguer."
Anya waited.
Then Miguel's face became serious.
"What?"
A pause.
"Send the documents immediately."
He ended the call.
"Business?"
"Yes."
Anya smiled.
"Saved by the phone."
Miguel looked at her.
"Perhaps."
Meanwhile, Christopher stood outside the restaurant.
He had seen them arrive together.
He had seen Miguel make Anya laugh.
And he understood something.
Miguel Anguer wasn't simply protecting Anya.
He was falling in love with her.
Christopher smiled sadly.
He wasn't angry.
He simply knew that this would become complicated.
Because Anya was caught between two men.
One openly admired her.
The other was too stubborn to admit that he loved her.
And somewhere behind them, someone was still watching.
Someone who had already discovered that Anya was far more than a blind maid.
When Miguel and Anya returned to the mansion, Anya heard a faint sound near the gate.
Someone was there.
Watching.
She stopped.
Miguel noticed.
"What is it?"
"Nothing."
He looked toward the gate.
Nothing.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
But Anya wasn't sure.
She had recognized the footsteps.
The same person who had followed her before.
The same person who knew about her past.
And now they had seen her with Miguel.
That was dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Miguel gently touched her shoulder.
"You all right?"
Anya nodded.
"Yes."
He studied her face.
"You're lying again."
She smiled.
"Maybe."
Miguel sighed.
"You know, someday you're going to tell me the truth."
Anya looked toward him.
"Maybe."
"Promise?"
She hesitated.
"Promise."
Miguel smiled.
He didn't know that she was already keeping secrets that could destroy everything.
Anya didn't know that Christopher's arrival had changed Miguel.
And neither of them knew that the enemy watching from the shadows had just discovered something even more valuable than Anya's investigation.
They had discovered Miguel's weakness.
Anya.
And now that weakness had a name.
Love.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD