As the car chugged along, the bright city lights of Denver danced along the windows, creating a soft glow in the interior of the limo. The man, now known as Quentin, sat quietly in his corner as they rode along the black pavement. It was strange, even though Alena had just met this man, she felt oddly comfortable in their mutual silence.

Staring at her interlaced fingers, Alena’s eyes focused in on the lack of her wedding ring, the weight of the heavy jewel still something she felt incomplete without, but also was too painful to bare. Three years. It had been three long, painful years since his absence, and Alena still felt as if she would never truly be over her husband’s death. Though part of that was due to the police never finding Fredricks killer, that knowledge alone left Alena with many sleepless nights.

Repressing a heavy sigh, Alena thought back to the day Fredrick had dropped to one knee with words of love spilling from his lips. His voice quivered with nervousness as he spoke, his tanned cheeks reddened as onlookers ogled us, his sensual lips spread into a shaky grin as his blue ocean eyes sucked her in. It was beautiful.

Memory after memory piled their way into Alena’s mind as she swallowed the ever-growing lump in her throat. He was everything and more. And just like that, he was whisked from this world far too soon. A loud clear of someone’s throat ripped Alena from her thoughts as her eyes met with Quentin’s. With an awkward smile, Alena swiveled her gaze back to the windows, her thoughts now more focused on the man who sat beside her.

With a sly gaze, Alena inspected the man more closely as his gaze remained glued to the scenery beyond the window. Even under the dirt that covered his cheeks and the days’ worth of stubble that masked his jaw, Alena could see he had wonderful bone structure. With a strong jawline that could only be comparable to that of Greek Gods, the man was beautiful. With full lips, a nose as straight as an arrow, and those gorgeous green eyes. He was a man any woman would love to put her hands on, amongst other things.

It was then that the car came to a soft stop in front of the large grand colonial house she called home. The deep red brick and tall white pillars always gave her a sense of comfort, before long the car door was swung open by her aid, Jonathan. It was then the realization that Quentin would be sleeping in her home crept into Alena’s mind. With a look of horror, Alena tried to shake the nerves she felt as her legs carried her to the front door. No other man had ever entered the home she had shared with her husband, at least no one other than her assistant, Jonathan.

“What am I going to do?”

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It was only when Quentin had exited the vehicle that he was able to truly see the grand home his mistress lived in. Of course, he had seen pictures of homes this lavish in the books he had snuck in the night as a child, but to see one in person nearly took his breath away. A flash of red brought his eyes over to the woman, her face wore an expression that could only be labeled as fear, as she stared at the door with wide eyes.

“Is everything alright, mistress?” At the sound of his voice, Alena nearly jumped out of her skin. With unease, Alena laughed softly at her stupidity and brushed Quentin’s question off with a wave of her hand while she rummaged for her keys.

“Yes. I’m sorry. Um... everything’s fine.” Though she smiled through her words, Quentin knew the difference between a real smile and a fake one. Though it wasn’t his place to question his new owner, he couldn’t help but find himself curious about the small woman that stood just inches from him. She was strange. She treated him as an equal, even bestowed him with a name, if she had any sexual motives, she’d done well not revealing them. And yet?

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“Well. Welcome to your new home.” Her voice shook as she spoke, the large mahogany door sweeping open revealing dark hardwood floors, high ceilings, and pale white walls. With slow steps, Quentin felt his mouth drop open as he took in it's beauty, the smell of jasmine and pine filling his lungs as Alena watched him with nervousness.

“Come now, I’ll show you to your room.” With a soft nod, Quentin followed Alena past a large chef’s kitchen and down a long hallway. Large bay windows littered the rooms, the high cielings making Quentin feel small in comparison. Whiel they walked, Alena rambled off various facts of the home and gave Quentin a quick tour. Though the house wasn't what it used to be, Alena still did her best to make the large house feel homey.

“And this is your room, I’m right across from you. I’ll be sure to have Jonathan clean it out for you before you go to bed.” At the sound of her voice, Quentin brought his attention to a large room that was completely blacked out with sheets. A large dresser lined the wall covered in dust, even the mirror that laid above it, was covered with a blanket.

“I’m sorry about the mess.” With heat filled cheeks, Alena averted her gaze from Quentin’s, the sound of his soft chuckle bringing a strange look to fall over her pretty face as she stared at him quizzically.

“No worries, mistress. I have slept in much worse than this.” At the reassuring tone, Alena felt a genuine smile spread onto her cheeks as she nodded her thanks. Though she knew the room had it's charms, she wasn’t willing to admit the reasoning for its unkempt appearance.

“Well, I’ll go ready a shower for you, I’ll be sure to send Jonathan to get you some clothes to wear. Please make yourself comfortable.”

With a murmur of thanks from Quentin, Alena then excused herself leaving him alone in the room he now called his. With a loud sigh, he sat himself onto the large bed, the springs creaking under his weight as he dropped his head in his hands. A strange feeling overwhelmed Quentin as he sat there. What was it? Relief? Happiness? All he knew, at that moment, was that this was the first time he’d ever had the right to call something his, and that was a feeling more powerful than anything else in the world.

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As the steam from the hot water filled the air around her, Alena’s cheeks had finally begun to cool. I can’t believe I let him see the bedroom in that state. As the shame and embarrassment swept over her, the soft sound of the door creaking drew her attention to a very naked Quentin. With a squeal and a meek attempt at shielding her eyes, Alena jumped from her crouched position, cornering herself into a nook in the bathroom.

“Quentin! What are you doing?!” As her shouts echoed in the small room, Quentin stared at the woman with humor dancing in his emerald eyes. Had she never seen a naked man before? Curious of what she’d do if he got closer, Quentin made his way to the short little redhead who all but cowered beneath his nakedness.

“Mistress?” Quentin’s voice was husky as he spoke, his hands gently pulling at the small hands that covered Alena’s face. Though to his surprise, she was quite strong as she kept her hands steadily in place, her head shaking wildly like a child as she kept her eyes clenched tightly shut. At the sight, Quentin found it nearly impossible to hold back his laughter. Only then did Alena finally open her eyes, her hands slowly lowering as she kept her gaze strongly fixed to Quentin’s face.

“W... What are you doing?” Alena’s voice shook as heat burned her cheeks, his tanned skin glistened due to the steam that filled the air, causing his cheeks to become tinged with a pinkish hue as he gazed at her humorously.

“That’s my question.” His voice was deep as he leaned closer to her, the small movement made Alena instantly tense as she kept her eyes on his. It was then that the humor was dashed from Quentin’s face, his lips now a breath away as one of his large hands brushed against the softness of her cheek.

“Would you care to join me, mistress?”