A Wife for Hire: The Trillionaire's Contract Wife.
(Different)
Chapter Eight
(Morning)
She felt a hot breath on her face, a familiar cologne bursting into her nostrils. It smelled familiar if hot as spring, sensual and beautifully calm her skin craved its essence.
Her eyes fluttered open and on the first look her features tightened in shock. She reeled back in surprise and for minutes she lacked words to say until it slowly began to register to herself what had happened. She did spend the night in the children's room and overslept.
She bit her inner cheek in embarrassment. Her fingers went to her face feeling any trace of drool or pouchy eyes. He looked so handsome, clean shaven and smelled of sweet and dark coffee sweet and dark yet she resembled nothing of those.
And the way he stared at her she felt the ground better open, and swallow her whole. He stared at her with the dark gaze of a villain willing to rip his prey apart and in his gaze something lingered the desperation to conceive her thoughts, feelings and above all deconstruct who Marilyn Edward truly was and why she was different.
Aaron Buckley watched her intrinsically.
He came into his girl's bedroom, and found Marilyn lying on the floor, fallen into a deep sleep, with a thin blanket wrapped around her slender shoulders.
What was she up to? He had employed quite a number of nannies, including other women but none stayed past 24 hours and none put in the effort like she did to make the kids like her.
"G-Good morning." She blurts, breaking the silence, pushing her body out of the floor hoping to leave.
He stared at his wrist watch with a sigh, "It's past morning."
She slapped a hand over her mouth in surprise. Her eyes watered immediately. Her eyes went straight to the bed. The girls were gone. "Oh my god did I sleep that much? Paige and Piper…"
He expected her to play the victim, cry or try to talk him out of the two weeks ultimatum, and neither did he expect her to spend the night at the girls room, and on the floor. It was her first night at the mansion; others would be perplexed to enjoy their quarters to full capacity but yet again she proved him wrong. Did her duties matter to this extent she would deprive herself of the pleasures a woman sent out of her only shelter, broken, and isolated would be this selfless? He refused to believe there's someone out there in this cruel world, this selfless. He wouldn't trust her or anyone.
He cleared his throat. "It's 10: pm and it's a Saturday." He points to the wall clock on the wall. Her gaze lands on the clock, and her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Marilyn felt tricked and almost lashed out.
"But you said it's past morning?" She snapped. Her lips trembled, and she quickly corrected herself. "Why lie though?" She pouted.
Her pretty green eyes caught his attention. The very first time he allowed himself to take a proper look at her without anything standing in his way. The way her eyes glittered, the softness, naivety, and fire it possessed. Her hair was unusually long, well groomed, and alluring to his eyes. Marilyn was too beautiful, it made his eyes dimmer, and when she spoke. She didn't care about anything; she spoke her mind, her tongue latched before her brains corrected her.
"Stop doing that." He took rein of the feeling that's slowly stirring in his chest.
"Doing what?" She pouts again.
"Make your lips that way." He scolds.
"Pouting?"
"Why did you come here?"
"I couldn't sleep alone. I made a grave mistake, and my heart couldn't bear to sleep like nothing happened. Piper is sick because of me, and Paige hates that I made her sister suffer." Her voice falls. "What can I do to apologize?"
"Make it easier, and leave. You turned down millions anyone in your position would accept with open arms considering I wasn't pressing charges."
"That's it. I don't want to be given some alms, something I didn't work for. I made a mistake. I get to fix it, and make sure she's well and in good spirits. And for your information Aaron Buckley I'm not the others before me. I'm Marilyn Edward. I don't run in the face of challenges, I stay and fight." She walked out of the room with her head held high, and her back straightened majestically.
**************
Her arms resting on the mahogany table, her legs crossed underneath it. Marilyn slowly wrote in her favorite black diary. She wrote about her first day at Buckley's house, the incident that almost changed everything and the present dilemma.
She bit her bottom lip, and closed the diary. Her oldest diary she had at the orphanage shared everything about her life, and spoke to it like it had ears, and could listen, and speak to her.
She slipped the diary into the drawer and stretched consecutively. Her arms hurt a bit. She marched out of the room, wrapping her hair into a tight bun. She wore a large shirt and a long skirt that stopped at her ankle.
She marched into the kitchen, and met Ella speaking to some of the chefs and when she noticed Marilyn entrance the room became silent. The chefs had a worried look written in their gazes.
"Return to your duties! Hurry up!" Ella commanded.
Marilyn avoided getting into any scuffle moved to the other side of the kitchen and took out a pan, a spoon and a bowl. She placed the items on the table and then turned towards the food store and found the store locked with a key.
"Why is it locked?"
Ella came beside her with a proud smirk. "Master forbade you from entering the kitchen. Ring the bell or make use of the cellular in your room but don't come into the kitchen. Whatever you want, the chef is at your service. State what you want to eat and it's done."
"And If I refuse?" Marilyn glared right back at Ella matching her energy at once. Something about Ella seems suspicious and Marilyn made a mental note to be wary of this woman who has shown her hostility, and proud contempt hidden between servitude, and faux orders.
"Andrew get the keys. I'll be making dinner tonight. Guide me to everything the family eats, and don't eat. I want to make something fabulous for everyone."
Andrew shook in fear as his gaze went from his boss's wife to the head servant.
"Andrew, I repeat open the kitchen before I create a scene here, and trust me I'll get you fired."
He hurriedly brought out the keys, and opened the store. Ella stomped her feet and marched out of the kitchen angrily.
Marilyn breathed a sigh of relief, took the key off his hands, and instructed him on the meal for tonight.