My Secret Master (A Dark Billionaire Romance) (4 page)

So I'm an important client, am I?

Turning slightly, I watched the city move past the window, taking note of where we were going. It was obvious we were heading out of the dregs of LA and into the upper areas of Hollywood.
I guess I shouldn't be too surprised that he'd have a house up here.

The colors turned from brown and gold, to fresh green and white. The road was winding, curling along so I had a lovely view of the city below. It was a landscape I didn't get to enjoy much. I found myself wide-eyed, a child in glee.
It's easy to forget how beautiful this city is when you're down on your luck.

It wasn't a long drive, the car turned around a sharp bend then slowed before a pair of wrought iron gates. I almost laughed at the sheer cliché nature of it all. We rolled through the barrier as it parted, the path turning into paved brick.

Then the house finally came into view.

That's no house, that's a mansion!

I covered my mouth, baffled by the immense size of the place. The land was surrounded by lemon and fig trees, hiding the home from the outside world. It was a picturesque realm of privacy, vibrant and so unlike the area I lived in.

The house sprawled with shingled roofs, tall tower like spires; old school in style and in complete contrast of the squat homes in LA. I'd figured Seth was well off, but this was simply outlandish.

“Here we are,” the driver said casually, pulling around the side and parking on a flat circle of stone. There were other cars there. Of course he would own multiple vehicles. All of them were shining bright, a rainbow of colors.

But I was still just gawking up at the mansion.

“Seth lives
here?
”

“Of course,” the driver chuckled.

Shaking my head, I sat there until the older man exited, coming around to open my door. He offered a hand, but I didn't take it. Sliding out into the air, I craned my neck to try and see the whole house at once. “This is amazing,” I stated.

The driver flashed a slight smile, closing my door and gesturing. “Follow me, please, Ms. Starling.”

Both him and Seth, calling me that, it makes me sound so important. I'm too young to be a Ms. Anything.

We entered through the tall front door, the wood pure white, the handle bronze and sparkling. Inside, I inhaled in a great rush, staring around at the view.

The entrance room was huge, a wide circle that extended upwards. From the plush carpet under me, to the sparkling chandeliers above, the whole place was opulent. A curling staircase stretched from my left, going up and around a long hallway above.

There were massive bookshelves, curved bay windows, and plush couches arranged with intent. In the walls there were several wide openings, clearly leading to other rooms.

As I let my gaze roam, I realized only one door was closed.

It was set into the side of the giant staircase, bright gold, like it was coated in lacquer. It was out of place among all the pearl and ivory.

I had so many questions; I was too overwhelmed to voice them.

“Ms. Starling,” a familiar voice called, causing me to look at the railing above. Seth was watching, leaning against the curling wood that kept him from falling to his death. He was dressed as sharp as the first time, dark charcoal and a pressed jacket.

In one hand, I saw he had a small glass, but I couldn't tell what he was drinking. “I'm glad you made it, how was the drive?”

“Good,” I said too quietly. “Uh, good! It was very scenic.”

He nodded, waltzing down the stairs in lazy, confident strides. Swirling his glass, he took another sip, then gestured to the driver with it. “Thank you, Corbin, you can go. I might need you later, if Ms. Starling desires to return home.”

If I desire?
I was puzzled by the way he had worded that.

Corbin, as he was apparently called, bowed his head to the both of us. In a second, he'd exited out the front door. As it closed sharply, it finally hit me.

I'm alone with Seth Hart.

He paused at the bottom of the stairs, seeming to consider me with those sapphire eyes of his. “Welcome, officially, to my home.”

Watching his elegant fingers, how they drummed on the hard railing, I laughed uneasily. “Thanks, it's quite... I mean, I don't even know how to put this. It's amazing, really.”

“Thank you.” He inclined his head, then reached out to offer me his hand. “Let me show you around.”

I reached out and took his smooth palm, hoping he didn't notice how sweaty mine was.

Together, we wandered up into the hall above. There was a length of white wall on one side, railing on the other. The view below was beautiful; I could see the luxuriously designed carpet, and once more, that alluring golden door.

Where does it go? Is it a fancy closet?

Seth led me along the corridor, pointing out studies, foyers, and a grand marble bathroom. I noticed a number of bedrooms, but none that looked particularly lived in.

The tour continued downstairs, where he showed me his grand kitchen. It was modern in its touches, despite the mansion's vintage feel.

A pair of huge, sliding glass doors displayed the backyard. It was packed with shady green grass and purple flowers. Most notable was the crisply-clear pool shaped like a kidney bean.

There was obviously much more to see, but Seth walked me back to the kitchen, ending the tour. Grabbing a bottle from a cabinet, he poured me a drink of something red. “Do you like it?” he asked, handing me the crystal glass, a thing that I was nervous to hold.

Frowning, I squinted into the cup.
How expensive is this glass, or this wine?
Sipping the liquid, I watched him over the rim in thought. “It's very impressive, but it's also so big! Do you live here all alone?”

“For the most part. I have Corbin, and often clients or guests will come by.” Shrugging, he set his empty glass by the sink. “I entertain a lot, as well. Hence, why I wanted your services.”

“Right.” I blinked, trying to imagine how fancy a gathering here had to be.
How does he afford all of this? What does he do to make money?
“Can you show me where I'm supposed to paint? I didn't see anywhere obvious in the rooms you showed me.” Lifting an eyebrow, a thought hit me. I pointed out of the kitchen towards the main entrance room. “It is out there?”

“Precisely.” He flashed those perfect pearly teeth.

I returned the smile, almost relieved. “I thought so, that gold door was the only place you didn't show me. So is that another dining room down there, or—”

“No,” he snapped, startling me. For the first time since I'd met him, Seth's lovely features were twisted in a harsh frown. “No, not there.” His blue eyes softened, as if he had realized how curt his tone was. “Sorry, that room is off limits.”

I'd frozen under his explosion. Remembering to breathe, I inhaled slowly. “Oh, I didn't know.”

“Of course, how could you have?” Gesturing towards the archway, he guided me back out to the main room.

I shot one look at that golden door, wondering why his reaction had been so visceral. “If I'm not painting in there, then where did you mean?”

Didn't he say it was out here?

Seth chuckled, I followed his eyes as he rolled them up to the long length of white wall above. It was where he had been standing when I'd entered, leaning on that intricate railing.

“I'm painting that?” I gasped, nearly dropping my wine glass. “That whole thing?”

“That is exactly what I am hoping for, Ms. Starling.”

Looking at it again, taking in the size, the knowledge that it would be the first thing people would see when they entered the mansion hit me.

I felt a flush of both pride, and fear.

Lifting my glass, I drained the contents, then exhaled loudly. “That's going to take me at least two weeks, Seth.”

“I know, that's why I said I'd take care of anything you'd need.”

“Yeah, you mentioned buying me supplies.”

Seth tilted his head, reaching out to gently take my empty glass. “No, Ms. Starling. I mean
anything.
”

The base of my neck warmed at his words. “I don't understand, what else could I need besides paints?”

Tapping a finger around the rim of the glass, Seth narrowed his cobalt eyes and laughed. “For starters, food. On top of that, as I said, I'm willing to let Corbin escort you back and forth. However...” He trailed off, his gaze moving back up to the hall. “There's a few spare rooms here. I'm more than happy to allow you to stay until this mural is complete.”

“Stay here?” The idea was exciting. I'd never been in a mansion, staying here would be like a vacation. I'd have access to a pool, privacy, and I was sure the food would be amazing, if the wine was any hint.

I also felt the rumble of my nerves.

Everything here is so expensive, what if I break something?

And could I handle sleeping here, knowing an intimidating, far-too-sexy-guy like Seth Hart was nearby? Just imagining him under the same roof was a bit much.

“I... I'm not sure if I'll stay,” I mumbled.

“It's fine,” he said, lifting a hand to calm me. It didn't help, my heart still raced. “For now, let's just get the paperwork signed. You're free to come and go. I'll outline in the contract what areas of my home you can peruse at your leisure.”

The way he implied that I wasn't allowed in every room made me shoot a curious glance at that gold door over his shoulder.

“Shall we, then?” His sharp cheek bones stood out when he smiled.

“Sure,” I said, trying to focus on him. “Let's do this.”

Once more he gave me his hand, and once more, I took it.

This time, I knew it would be impossible not to notice how clammy my skin was.

Or how I was trembling.

Naomi

––––––––

T
he contract ended up being far more in depth than I expected.

A stack of papers, thick as my wrist, outlined everything from liability, to timeline, to rules of the house. Flipping through it, I gave it a once over before simply staring at Seth. “Is this really necessary?”

“I have a very private life, Ms. Starling. I need you to understand what you can, and cannot, do while you are here.” He folded his hands together, watching me over them as he sat behind his grand desk.

We had relocated to his study for the contract signing, a room entirely too dark for my taste. On the walls, I saw placards and awards. I also couldn't help but notice a few bare sections. Recently bare, I felt, and wondered if some of my art from the gallery was meant to hang there.

“That's fine and all, Seth, but this is just so much! Is there a break down, a summary? Just tell me the basics that would keep me from getting the letter of admission I need.” I heard my own frustration.

Had my false professional aura already cracked?

“I need you to read it all. But, if you want the basics, fine.” He lifted a hand, ticking off on his fingers as he spoke. “You can come and go as you please, but you're not allowed to bring anyone here without my permission. Eat any of the food in the fridge, but do not order takeout. If you need anything else, just tell Corbin, he can get it for you. Don't go in my bedroom, it's the master room on the first floor. Don't take any photos, none of that social networking is tolerated here.”

The idea of him getting angry because his mansion ended up on Pinterest almost broke my composure. Lifting an eyebrow, I fought to keep the sarcasm from my voice. “Is that
all?
”

“No,” he returned my tone, “But you know the rest.”

“I can go in the yard?” I asked. When he nodded, I went on. “And the bedrooms along this corridor where I'm painting?” Again, he nodded. “Alright. So it's just that gold door that you want me to stay away from.”

Seth's eyes melted from blue to black. “Forget it even exists, Ms. Starling. No matter what you see.”

No matter what I see?
Was he trying to make me mad with curiosity?

“Could you give me some leeway? I just want to know where it goes, why can't I know?”

“Because it's a rule,” he said slowly, deliberately. His eyes met mine, hard as marble. It was a struggle not to buckle under his intensity.  “Can you follow rules, Ms. Starling?”

“Of course.” I sighed, trying to ease the mood with a gentle smile. “You can call me Naomi, you know.”

“I prefer Ms. Starling. Now, please, sign.” He slid the contract closer to me.

The restrictions weren't terrible, they just felt a little out of place. Why was he being so secretive?
I mean,
I thought to myself,
No takeout?
Was the pizza guy going to spill the beans about Seth's home? Who would care?

I ran my eyes over the page that explained what I would be given; food, a lavish bedroom, the letter of recommendation. He had also, strangely, given me access to a wardrobe of clothing.

Why he had a collection of women's clothing, I had no clue.

It seems like an amazing deal. Why do I get this strange feeling there's something insidious going on here?

If I was going to back down, this was the moment. Standing, leaving, maybe watching Seth's confidence crack as I told him I was no longer interested... all of that rippled through my mind.

Everything came back to the college.

I'd struggled for years, gone through so much.

It's the only chance I have.

I wasn't disillusioned enough to think three rejection letters wasn't a pattern.

Crushing the pen, I scrawled my name and slid everything back to him. A new, thicker knot grew in my belly as I officially agreed to the situation.

“Well done,” he said, signing as well. “I'll get you a copy later. For now, let me show you what you have to work with.”

Seth brought me to a closet in the hallway, revealing the contents. It was full of every sort of paint brush, every color I could ever need. The supplies were high quality, I knew it all cost a fortune.

It was a painter's dream, and my grin crossed ear to ear.

“But,” I asked, walking to the long stretch of white wall, brushing my fingers over it lightly. “What do you want me to paint?”