Save Me - Chapter 9: Chapter 10

Dahlia
The car ride from my town to the city was dead silent and awkward.
I shifted again against the soft leather passenger seat and stole a quick glance at the stranger driving. Stranger slash husband.
What was even stranger was that, despite the few words we'd exchanged and how little I knew about him—aside from his name—my instincts weren't screaming for me to run, as they had with Vincent Hathaway. Maybe it was because he'd calmed me down from the verge of a panic attack at the wedding, or maybe it was the warm intensity in his eyes every time he looked at me. Whatever the reason, I wasn't terrified of him. And that unnerved me deeply.
I was, however, terrified of everything else. I had no idea what I had gotten myself into, I did not know what was expected of me and I sure as heck had no idea how I was going to navigate it all, especially without my mother.
I was so lost in thought that I didn't even notice when I drifted off to sleep.
My eyes slowly opened and for a moment I was confused by my surroundings, I seemed to be in an underground parking lot. Dazed, I looked around until my eyes landed on the pair dark eyes watching me. With my heart pounding, I sat up straighter.
"Hey." His deep velvety voice pulled my attention to him and I felt my face flush. I had made it a mission not to fully look at him but when I did, I was struck by how impossibly handsome he was. With his chiseled features, he looked like a god from my Greek mythology books. Not only that, but there was also something tragically dark about him that only made him more beautiful.
He was clearly a man who would not have had trouble finding a wife the conventional way, so why on earth did he choose to marry a stranger? That question had been plaguing me since the wedding.
"Are you ready to go up?" He gestured at the elevator doors on the wall a few meters away. I could only nod in response; where on earth had my speaking abilities disappeared to?
The elevator ride was awkward. I tried to think of something to say to break the silence, but nothing came. Normally, I was great at easing tension; my mother had taught me well. She could defuse any situation with a snap of her fingers and a dash of charm. But now, all I could think about was what might happen when we reached his apartment. Would he expect us to... consummate the marriage? Every book I'd read on marriage insisted it was important for a couple to consummate their union. I'd been relieved when he didn't demand it after our wedding and let me go home instead. But now...
I wasn't ready for that. Just because I wasn't entirely terrified of him didn't mean this situation was any less daunting.
"You have an adorable thinking face."
My eyes shot up to his, startled. Could he read my thoughts? No, that's ridiculous, Dahlia. Of course not.
"Your eyebrows furrow a little, and you bite your upper lip," he added, his gaze lingering on my lips.
He was looking at me like that again.
To my relief, the elevator doors opened, sparing me from having to respond to his strange observation.
They opened directly into an apartment, no, a penthouse that even I knew was way larger than the standard penthouse. But what truly took my breath away was the glass wall that offered a surreal view of the city lights against the twilight sky. What was it with rich people and huge windows?
Wait a second. When we'd arrived in the city, it was still in the afternoon. The drive to his place couldn't have taken more than twenty minutes. Which meant...
"We must have arrived an hour ago. Why didn't you wake me up?" I asked, confused.
"She speaks," he teased, smirking in a way that made my heart flutter. "You looked like you needed the rest," he shrugged.
"I am not ready to have sex with you."
My hands flew to cover my mouth and my eyes widened, what had possessed me to just blurt that out?!
"I mean, I've read that after marriage people are expected to consummate their union, and sex is a big part of marriage. It usually happens on the wedding night or the honeymoon, and obviously, we didn't have sex on our wedding night, so maybe you were expecting sex tonight, and oh my god, why do I keep saying the word 'sex'?!" at that point I would have given anything for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
My face burned as I buried it in my hands, hoping to disappear.
I felt him move closer, gently grabbing my wrists and pulling my hands away from my face. His eyes twinkled with amusement, and the corners of his lips curved into a small smile. He was definitely laughing at me.
But then his expression softened, and his emerald eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my pulse quicken.
"Dahlia, I promise I will not make you do anything you do not want to do. You have my word." His voice was so sincere that I couldn't help but believe him. I nodded, feeling my shoulders relax in relief.
He held my wrists for a moment longer before stepping back. "Would you like a tour now, or shall I show you to your room so you can freshen up?"
"I'd like a tour," I replied, not ready to be alone with my thoughts just yet.
Damien's home was modern and masculine, with sparse furnishings that seemed more for show than comfort. Everything was black, gray, silver, or mahogany—no pops of color anywhere. The place was high-tech, with state-of-the-art appliances I had no hopes of figuring out any time soon. I was more than amazed when he showed me his home theater, gym and indoor pool. A freaking indoor pool! Which also had an amazing view of the city thanks to the glass wall might I add. I knew people were rich but this was beyond my wildest imagines.
The more I saw of Damien's home, the more anxious I became. It was all too big, too flashy. I wasn't saying my previous living arrangements were ideal, I mean this was quite the upgrade from old Patricia or the shoe-box apartment I had just moved out of, but there was no warmth or comfort in this place. Only coldness and intimidation.
Then he opened the double doors to the final stop on the tour, and all my anxiety melted away. My heart leaped with joy. A library!
Awestruck, I didn't wait for Damian as I hurried inside. It was beautiful—a completely different world from the rest of the apartment. The walls, shelves, and even the spiral staircase in the corner were made of golden wood, polished to perfection. The floor was covered in a gorgeous vintage emerald green carpet. And my heart nearly burst when I saw the fireplace surrounded by two burgundy velvet love seats and an armchair, with a coffee table in between. Finally, furniture that looked like it was meant to be sat on. The artwork on the walls, reminiscent of the Renaissance era, was stunning. I even recognized a few pieces I'd read about in books. I couldn't wait to study them all later.
This was easily my favorite room—warm and welcoming, like nowhere else.
Mom would have absolutely freaked out over the art in this room.
"What's wrong?" Damien's voice pulled me out of my reverie.
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.
"Is there something you don't like about this room?" he asked, frowning slightly. "Tell me, and I will change it."
"What? No!" Was he insane? This room was perfection.
He stepped closer and gently tilted my chin up with his finger, making me meet his eyes. "Then why did the light in your eyes dim just now?"
His gaze burned into mine, filled with raw emotion that made my pulse race. I had so many questions about this man. Like, why did he keep looking at me like that?
"I think I'm just tired," I said, taking a small step back. It was partly true. Everything about this situation was odd, and trying to make sense of it all was mentally exhausting. I just wanted to sleep and wake up to my old life, like the accident and everything that followed had been some kind of twisted nightmare.
"I'll show you to your room so you can freshen up while I make dinner,"