Page 54 of Filthy Dirty Dom
The whispers of the past were just too loud, the shared histories too apparent. Even though everyone had been instructed not to reveal anything, it felt like a countdown had begun, one he had no control over.
He was acutely aware of the precariousness of the situation—not the immediate threat from the Bratva, but the potential fallout from his own secrets. Every greeting from an old friend, every knowing smile sent their way, had him on edge. How long could he keep up the charade?
How long before Leslie began to ask questions he wasn't prepared to answer?
As they neared the edge of the compound, a darkened opening nestled into the side of the hill caught Leslie's eye. Intrigued, she pointed towards the cave, the late afternoon sun casting her figure in an almost ethereal glow.
"Can we go inside?" she asked.
“Go into a cave where someone could be hiding, waiting for us to walk right in?”
He watched as her excitement dimmed slightly, replaced by understanding. “Right. That was silly of me.”
A sudden wave of guilt washed over Alex as he realized how he must have sounded. “No. Not when the whole point of this tour is to show us that we’re safe here.”
Alex turned to Damien. "Is the cave secure?" Alex asked, his gaze scanning the rocky outcrop and the darkened maw beyond.
"Yes, it's locked down tight. It's been fitted with motion sensors and infrared cameras," he assured, pointing towards a barely noticeable device camouflaged against the rocky surface. "We have a live feed streaming directly to the security room. Anyone who tries to enter or even gets close would trigger an alarm. It's inaccessible from the outside, and we've got men stationed at key points. No one could get in without us knowing. That said, Renee’s kids sometimes hang out in the cave, as do others on their time off."
Alex nodded then turned back to Leslie. “Then if you really want to—”
She quickly shook her head. “No. You were right. We shouldn’t take any unnecessary chances.”
It was better that way, so he didn’t disagree, but he still sensed Leslie’s sudden downturn in mood.
As night fell, Leslie felt an undeniable exhaustion seeping into her bones. The grand tour of the compound had been fascinating and daunting. It was a stark contrast to her life in New York and her exhaustion was as much emotional as it was physical.
Having returned to their suite, Leslie’s mind buzzed with thoughts and questions, most notably about the man standing across the room: Alex, who was a mystery and an enigma wrapped up in the physique of a man who could easily be a Greek god. Alex, who leaned against a towering bookcase, his back resting casually against the aged wood. He’d changed into a form-fitting black T-shirt and gray sweatpants that clung to his powerful, muscular frame in a way that made it impossible for her not to notice.
His hair, military short on the sides but slightly longer on top, framed his face as he focused on a book in his hands. His lips were set in a contemplative line, their softness a stark contrast to his chiseled jawline.
She watched him as he idly flipped through the pages of the book, his strong, dexterous fingers lightly brushing over the pages. She knew from all their years together that he had a love of reading, just like Leslie did. The sight of him so deep in thought, so unguarded and in a sense, so normal, sent butterflies fluttering through her stomach. He looked less like the controlled, powerful, composed man she normally saw, the one who had been on duty for most of the day. and more like the relaxed man she sometimes caught glimpses of—someone who was wholly human, with his share of sorrows, joys, and histories.
It was the side of him she found most attractive but also the most terrifying because she knew he had heavily guarded secrets, ones she doubted he’d ever show her…and maybe, ones she never actually wanted to uncover.
Shaking her head, she tried to focus on something else, anything else. But her eyes, as if drawn by some magnetic force, kept finding their way back to him. And every time they did, the arousal that always simmered within her when Alex was near only grew stronger.
Just friends, she reminded herself, strongly aware he’d never accepted her offer to be more for even a month.
Suddenly, Alex looked up at her. Meeting his gaze from across the room, Leslie felt the world shrink, narrowing down to this single, intense point of contact. His eyes held a raw, naked desire that mirrored her own, an all-consuming fire, simmering with a quiet intensity that sent a hot, sharp thrill darting through her veins. The heat of his stare was a palpable thing, reaching across the distance between them to sear into her skin. It elicited a visceral reaction from her, a deep, resounding echo within her that resonated with the primal rhythm of attraction. It was an energy that vibrated in the air around them, humming with an almost tangible tension.
And within his gaze, there was also a silent question. An invitation, whether he meant to offer it or not. His eyes, darkened by an emotion that was as clear as it was compelling, beckoned her closer.
Her pulse quickened and an overwhelming sense of anticipation tightened her nerves.
She wanted him, and no amount of danger or mystery could overshadow that truth.
But she’d been burned by him far too many times.
She’d made her offer.
It was up to him to accept or reject it. And until he said anything, she’d assume he was rejecting it.
Deliberately breaking eye contact with him, she walked into the bedroom, then the pristine bathroom. The countertops were cleared of any clutter, a fresh set of towels neatly arranged by the sink. She noticed a toiletries bag sitting next to it, its contents carefully arranged.
"Someone's unpacked for us."
There was a moment's pause before Alex’s voice filtered in from the living area. "The housekeeper, I believe.” Suddenly he was leaning against the side of the bathroom doorway. “Do you mind? I could have a word if you'd like."