Forbidden Obsession

Chapter One

FOUR DAYS EARLIER…
Four days earlier...

Keith Watson didn't care if he was going to burn in hell. Not when Rosalie Martinez walked into the ballroom of the Bentley Hotel. From that moment, his gaze had been fixated on her, unable to look away.

She was forbidden fruit, being his best friend's little sister. But she had grown up, and he couldn't help but notice. She had become an obsession for him, a twisted desire he could no longer fight.

And now, she was here, alone, with no sign of Craig. This was the perfect opportunity for Keith to make his move.

As he mingled with the crowd, sipping his wine, he listened half-heartedly to the conversations around him. He hadn't known Rosalie would be here, and it seemed Craig hadn't either. Keith watched as Rosalie scanned the room, her brow furrowed in concentration. A server offered her wine, but she didn't drink it. 

She was breathtaking in her form-fitting dress, with her upswept hair begging to be pulled down. Keith wanted to protect her, to shield her from anyone else's gaze. She was his, even if she didn't know it yet.

The off-the-shoulder cocktail dress showcased her curves, drawing the attention of the men in the room. But Keith wouldn't let anyone else have her. The diamond jewelry she wore, gifts from him, only fueled his determination to make her his.

He had waited long enough. Endured years of longing for her, feeling like a criminal for desiring his best friend's sister. But now that she was twenty-four, the age difference no longer seemed insurmountable. Craig would be furious, but Keith was willing to take the risk.

Oh, he had plans for Rosalie. And now, it was time to put them into action.

---

Rosalie nervously took a sip of her wine, feeling out of place among the beautiful and wealthy crowd. She had come to surprise Craig at the grand opening of the Bentley Hotel, but he was nowhere to be found.

Her brother and his best friends, Keith and Bennett, were successful hoteliers, achieving more than most people their age. Rosalie was proud of Craig, especially since he had taken care of her after their parents' deaths. But she still felt like an outsider in their world of luxury.

Keith had always been distant, avoiding her whenever possible. He was nice to her, sent her gifts, but never spent much time with her. So when he appeared out of nowhere and whisked her away from two approaching men, she was taken aback.

"Hello, Keith," she said, trying to steady her voice.

There was something about him that made her feel weak, unable to think straight. It was a miracle she had even completed her degree with him around. He exuded confidence and arrogance, drawing her in despite her best efforts to resist.

She smiled and braced herself as Keith suggested they dance. It was an unexpected invitation, but she couldn't pass up the opportunity to be in his arms. The sultry music filled the air as they moved to the dance floor, surrounded by other couples.

He held her close, his touch branding her skin. She couldn't help but melt into his embrace, forgetting everything else in that moment. His mouth crashed onto hers, igniting a fire within her. It was a kiss like no other, possessive and consuming. All her fantasies paled in comparison.

When he finally pulled away, breathless, he admitted that he had wanted to do that for a long time. Rosalie was stunned, her legs trembling. She had no idea what had just happened or what it meant for them.

But Keith didn't give her a chance to process it. He dragged her onto the terrace, away from prying eyes. In the shadows, he stared at her, his expression unreadable.

"What the hell," he muttered, as if surrendering to an unknown force.

Before she could respond, his mouth was on hers again, stealing her breath away. She was wrecked, intoxicated by his touch. But as quickly as it happened, he pulled back and told her to meet him at his office the next day.

Confused and overwhelmed, Rosalie watched as Keith hailed a car and sent her home. She couldn't comprehend what had just transpired, but one thing was certain - her life was about to change.

Chapter Two

“So let me get this straight. You bailed on going to the club with me and the girls so you could go to some stuffy grand opening of your brother’s hotel, and while you were there, Keith Watson dragged you onto the terrace, kissed you and then sent you home with explicit instructions to be in his office at ten this morning.”
"So let me get this straight. You ditched our night out at the club to attend your brother's fancy hotel opening, and while you were there, Keith Watson swooped in, kissed you, and demanded that you show up in his office this morning." 

Rosalie slumped on the couch, her exhaustion evident as she rubbed her eyes. She had spent the entire night tossing and turning, unable to sleep. How could she when Keith had turned her world upside down? Now, with ten o'clock looming, she had no idea what awaited her.

"That's pretty much it," Rosalie replied, her voice weary.

Vivian made a dramatic face and fanned herself with her hand. "And here I thought our night was wild. But being kissed by a gorgeous billionaire? You definitely one-upped us."

"But why?" Rosalie asked, her frustration seeping into her tone. It was a question she had asked herself countless times during her sleepless night. Why had he kissed her? Why did he suddenly want to see her when he had been avoiding her for so long?

It hadn't been a request; Keith Watson never asked for anything. He gave orders and expected them to be followed. And Rosalie couldn't deny that she found that trait strangely enticing. It sent shivers down her spine.

Vivian rolled her eyes. "He wants you, chica. And who wouldn't? You're young and beautiful, and I'm sure you've been the star of his fantasies for years."

Rosalie wrinkled her nose. "You make it sound so gross."

"Oh, come on. You've been lusting after him since you were a teenager. And he never acted on those urges. You're twenty-four now, not sixteen. There's a big difference."

"I just wish I knew what he wants," Rosalie said, her worry palpable.

"If you have to wonder after he practically propositioned you on the terrace, then I don't know what to say," Vivian said, exasperated.

She glanced at her watch and shot Rosalie a pointed look. 

"Girlfriend, you've got less than an hour to get ready before you have to leave. I suggest you get off that couch and make yourself look fabulous."

"I don't even know what to wear," Rosalie muttered.

Vivian smiled mischievously. "I do. Come on. You've got a man to dazzle."

Dazzle? Rosalie wanted to laugh. If anyone was going to be dazzled, it was her. She was so overwhelmed by the events of the previous night that she was sure she would be a nervous wreck by the time she made it into Keith's office.

• • •

Keith stared at the contract in his hands, deep in thought as he contemplated his next move with Rosalie. It was rare for him to spend time pondering how to approach someone. He was straightforward in both his personal and professional life. There was no room for emotions, not even in relationships. He had been burned once, completely blindsided, and he had vowed never to let it happen again.

He wasn't avoiding women altogether; he enjoyed their company too much. He reveled in the thrill of dominance and submission. But his approach had changed. He no longer took risks.

But Rosalie...

He couldn't deny that she was different from any other woman he had encountered. She wasn't just another conquest, someone he viewed with affection but kept at arm's length. The women he usually chose knew the score. They understood what was expected of them and what they would receive in return.

Rosalie was Craig's sister. Beyond that, she had watched her grow up. He had been there for her high school graduation, scaring off her prom date with a few well-placed threats. He had seen her during holidays and when she visited Craig. He had even attended her college graduation.

That had been a difficult time for him, as Rosalie had blossomed into a stunning young woman. She was no longer the innocent girl he had known. He didn't even want to think about how many lovers she might have had. It would only make him angry. But he wasn't concerned about her past. It was her future that interested him.

Rosalie didn't know it yet, but she would be his. He just hadn't figured out the best way to approach her. She was different. Younger, yes, but there was an innocence about her that intrigued him. Or perhaps that was just his perception. Who knew what she did when Craig wasn't watching?

Regardless, he had to handle this delicately. He couldn't completely overwhelm her before he even had a chance. And then there was the issue of Craig. Keith hadn't quite figured out how to navigate that obstacle, but he would deal with it in due time.

A noise at his door brought him back to reality, annoyance flashing in his eyes. He had specifically instructed the receptionist not to disturb him. Not by anyone. And it wasn't time for Rosalie to arrive yet. He still had over an hour.

Craig and Bennett strolled into the office, their unexpected presence only increasing Keith's irritation. Weren't they supposed to be on a plane to California? They had a contractor to meet.

All three men traveled extensively, overseeing various projects. Lately, Keith had been stuck in the city, overseeing the finishing touches of their newest luxury hotel. He was the perfectionist, the one who made sure everything was just right. He didn't trust anyone else with that task.

The three of them had been friends since college, bonded by their shared experiences and unwavering support. They had been there for each other through thick and thin. And now, Rosalie had become the center of their attention, a potential source of conflict.

"What's got you all worked up this morning?" Bennett drawled as he lounged in one of the chairs.

Craig settled in the other chair, his expression more serious than Bennett's.

Keith regarded them with a raised eyebrow. "Aren't you supposed to be on your way to California?"

Craig's eyes narrowed. "Our flight was delayed. Mechanical issues with the plane. We won't be able to leave until eleven."

Keith mentally calculated the time. They should be long gone before Rosalie arrived. He just hoped she wasn't the type to arrive early. As much as he valued punctuality, he would make an exception for her.

Under his desk, Keith clenched and unclenched his fists. Rosalie had consumed his thoughts since the previous night. Now that he allowed himself to see her as more than Craig's sister, he was filled with anticipation. He couldn't wait to have her under his control. Just the thought of it sent a surge of heat through his veins.

He had to hope that Craig and Bennett would leave soon. He didn't want Rosalie to feel any more uncomfortable than necessary, and he certainly didn't want Craig to discover his intentions.

He made a show of checking his watch and glanced at Bennett, who had a woman perched on his lap. 

"Taking the brunette to California with you?" Keith asked, trying to divert their attention.

Bennett grinned. "Hell yeah. It'll make the flight more enjoyable."

Keith shook his head. "Send her in, Eleanor."

A moment later, the woman from the previous night walked into his office. She confidently made her way towards Bennett, settling comfortably between him and Craig. Keith couldn't help but compare her to Rosalie, a pointless exercise given that this woman was far out of Rosalie's league. She was older, more experienced, and well aware of Craig and Bennett's arrangement. Rosalie had no idea what awaited her, and Keith hoped she wouldn't run away in fear.

In the past, Keith wouldn't have minded the scene in front of him. It wasn't uncommon for Craig and Bennett to have women around. But today, he wanted them gone. He didn't want Rosalie to witness any more than necessary, and he certainly didn't want Craig to discover his plans for his sister.

He checked his watch again, relief washing over him. He still had half an hour before Rosalie was due to arrive. Surely, Craig and Bennett would be long gone by then.

Chapter Three

Rosalie got out of the cab on Fifth Avenue, a short walk to the building that housed the HCM offices, and sighed at the positively gorgeous weather. The wind ruffled her hair, hinting at the chill that was inevitable. The days were getting cooler as fall wound down to winter.
Rosalie stepped out of the cab on bustling Fifth Avenue, just a short walk away from the HCM offices. She couldn't help but sigh at the breathtaking weather. The wind tousled her hair, carrying with it a hint of the impending chill of winter. Fall was slowly fading away, making room for the colder months ahead.

Keith lived nearby, at 400 Fifth Avenue, in a sleek and modern residential development. On the other hand, Craig resided on the Upper West Side, closer to Rosalie. She couldn't help but wonder if her proximity to him was the reason he never moved closer to his office. And then there was Bennett, who enjoyed the view of the Hudson River from his residence at 1 Morton Square.

Rosalie hurried into the high-rise building that housed HCM, digging out her security pass to gain access past the turnstile leading to the elevators. Craig had given her the pass during a tour of the HCM suite of offices a few years ago, but she rarely used it since she usually visited with him. She couldn't help but worry that the pass might no longer work, forcing her to register with security. If that happened, she might lose her nerve and leave altogether.

Luckily, she encountered no problems with the pass.

Checking her watch as she stepped into the crowded elevator, Rosalie shifted towards the back as more people squeezed in. It was five minutes to ten, and she despised being late. Not that she was late, at least not yet, but she had always been the type to arrive early. Being tardy made her restless, and being so close to the wire made her anxious.

She had no real reason to obey Keith's command so diligently. It's not like he would behead her if she were late. But there was something in his voice that made her cautious about defying him. And if she were honest with herself, she was curious to know why he had summoned her so imperiously.

Vivian had rushed her through the shower and dressed her as if she were a clueless child. After selecting jeans that accentuated her curves, Vivian picked out a cami top and an oversized, cut-off T-shirt that exposed one shoulder. The shirt was short and revealed a sliver of her midriff when she moved just right.

Vivian had expertly styled Rosalie's long hair, creating a deliberately messy look. She swore that Rosalie's hair drove men wild. Rosalie wasn't sure if she wanted to invoke that kind of reaction from Keith. Sure, he had been the star of many of her teenage and adult fantasies, but now that he was up close and personal, she sensed an overwhelming power emanating from him.

It intimidated her and made her question whether she could handle a man like him.

Rosalie had applied minimal makeup. Not that she didn't wear it, but going all out for this mysterious meeting with Keith felt...desperate. It was like waving a neon sign declaring her infatuation and intentions. What if this meeting turned out to be something mundane? Wouldn't she feel like a colossal fool walking in dressed for seduction only to discover that Keith just wanted to check up on her? Who knew what went on in his mind anyway? Keith wasn't the type to broadcast his thoughts or feelings to the world.

At exactly one minute to ten, Rosalie exited the elevator and hurried into the reception area of HCM. Eleanor, the receptionist, smiled and greeted her as she approached. Rosalie didn't have time to question whether she was insane for agreeing to this meeting or to collect herself before diving into the unknown. She had just one minute to make it to Keith's office.

"I have a ten o'clock appointment with Keith," Rosalie said breathlessly.

"I'll let him know you're here," Eleanor replied, picking up the phone.

Rosalie turned away, unsure whether Keith would come to get her or if she should return. Whenever she visited Craig, she simply walked in without any waiting as if she had an appointment.

"You can go on back," Eleanor called.

Rosalie swiftly turned around and nodded, taking a deep breath before heading down the hallway, passing Craig's office, and finally reaching Keith's spacious corner office at the end. She paused at the doorway, her gaze fixated on her polished toes peeking out from the sexy heels Vivian had recommended.

Suddenly, she felt like the world's biggest fool. Maybe she had completely misinterpreted whatever had transpired between her and Keith at last night's party. And now she had come dressed to kill.

She was about to turn and sprint back to the elevator as fast as her heels could carry her when the door swung open, revealing Keith Watson standing there, staring intently at her.

"I was beginning to wonder if you had changed your mind," he said.

Embarrassment flooded Rosalie's cheeks as she hoped he couldn't read her thoughts. Her guilt must have been written all over her face.

"I'm here," she said bravely, raising her chin to meet his gaze.

He took a step back, gesturing for her to enter. "Come in."

She inhaled sharply and stepped into the lion's den.

Rosalie had caught a glimpse of Keith's office years ago when Craig had given her a tour of the HCM floor, but she had been too excited and everything had been a blur. Now, she studied the interior of Keith's office with keen interest.

The space exuded class and expense. Rich mahogany wood, polished marble floors partially covered by an elegant oriental rug. The furniture was dark leather with an antique, old-world charm. Paintings adorned three walls, while the fourth was lined with built-in bookcases filled with an eclectic mix of works.

Keith had a passion for reading. Craig and Bennett often teased him about being a bookworm, but it was a passion that Rosalie shared with him. While Keith had gifted her the necklace and earrings she had worn to the party the night before, that same Christmas, she had given him a signed first edition of a Cormac McCarthy novel.

"You seem nervous," Keith observed, breaking into her thoughts. "Don't worry, Rosalie. I won't bite. At least not yet."

Her eyebrows lifted, and he motioned for her to take a seat in front of his desk. He pulled out the chair and placed his hand on her back, guiding her into place. She shivered at his touch, and he let his hand linger for a moment even after she had settled into her seat.

His fingers slid up her shoulder before he finally walked back around his desk and took his seat across from her. He stared at her intensely for a long moment, making her feel as if he were devouring her with his gaze.

"You wanted to see me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The corner of his mouth quirked upward. "I want more than to just see you, Rosalie. If seeing you was all I desired, I would have spent more time with you last night."

Her breath hitched, and for a brief moment, she forgot how to breathe. She licked her lips and ran her tongue over her bottom lip nervously.

"For God's sake, Rosalie," he muttered.

Her eyes widened. "What?"

His nostrils flared, and his hands clenched into fists on top of his desk. "I want you to come work for me."

Of all the things she expected him to say, that hadn't been one of them. She stared at him in astonishment, struggling to process the fact that he had just offered her a job. Good God, she had nearly made a complete fool of herself. Her cheeks burned with humiliation.

"I already have a job," she protested. "You know that."

He waved his hand dismissively, an impatient sound escaping his throat.

"It's not a job worthy of your capabilities and education, and you know it."

"It's not like I plan on staying there forever," she defended herself. "They've been good to me, and they're short-staffed, so I promised I would stay until they found a replacement."

He gave her an exasperated look. "How long have they been telling you that, Rosalie?"

She flushed and dropped her gaze momentarily.

"You're meant for more than being a cashier in a pastry shop. Craig didn't spend all that money, and you didn't spend all that time in college just to hand out donuts."

"I never intended it to be a long-term position!"

"I'm glad to hear that. So give them your notice and come work for me."

He leaned back, staring intently at her as he awaited her response.

"What exactly is the job you're offering me?" she asked.

"You would be my personal assistant."

The way he said those words sent a shiver down her spine. The emphasis on "personal" couldn't be mistaken.

"But you don't have a personal assistant," she accused. "You've never had one. You hate them."

"It's true that you would be my first in a long while. I trust that you would prove to be a very capable employee."

Rosalie studied him intently, narrowing her eyes as she took in his intense and brooding expression.

"Why?" she asked bluntly. "What do you want, Keith? And while we're at it, could you explain what happened last night? Because I'm completely lost."

A slow and arrogantly delicious smile spread across his face. "So my little kitten has claws."

"Stop playing games with me. There's something else going on here. Why do you want me to work for you?"

His upper lip twitched, and his nostrils flared as he stared at her from across the desk.

"Because I want you, Rosalie," he finally admitted.

Silence descended upon them, enveloping the room and suffocating her, except for the loud thumping of her own heartbeat in her ears.

"I don't understand," she stammered.

He smiled, a predatory smile that caressed her like the smoothest silk. "Oh, I think you do."

Her stomach churned, and butterflies fluttered in her chest, tickling her throat. This couldn't be happening. It had to be a dream.

"What you're suggesting isn't possible," she said. "If I work for you...we can't..."

"Can't we?" he asked, his voice dripping with mock. He leaned back further into his chair, indolent and confident, stretching out his long legs. "The purpose of you working for me is so you'll be by my side at all times. And I'll have you whenever and however I want."

Heat surged through her body, and she squirmed in her seat, her hands twisting together.

"This is overwhelming," she confessed, her words feeble and inadequate, but what else could she say? She was utterly speechless.

Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. She knew there was more to this than his words. There was an ocean of meaning in those dark eyes. She felt hunted. Pursued.

"Come here, Rosalie," he commanded, his voice firm yet gentle.

The command washed over her, cutting through the haze of confusion. Her eyes widened as she met his gaze, realizing that he was waiting for her to approach him.

She rose unsteadily, her legs shaky as she rubbed her hands down her jeans in an attempt to steady herself. Then, she took that first step, walking around the edge of his desk until she stood in front of him, still seated in his executive chair.

He reached for her hand, twining his fingers with hers, and tugged her onto his lap. She landed awkwardly, but he sat up straighter, shifting so she was nestled against his chest, tucked into his side. With his free hand, he delved into her hair, curling the strands around his knuckles while holding on to her hand with the other.

"The relationship I propose is far from traditional," he explained. "I won't throw you into it blindly without knowing where you stand and what you can expect."

"How generous," she said dryly.

He tugged at her hair. "Feisty little minx." His eyes half-closed as he stared into her eyes. He released her hand and lifted his fingers to her lips, tracing the outline with the tip of his index finger. "I want you, Rosalie. And I'll warn you now, I'm used to getting my way."

"So you want me to work for you, and you want...me. Physically, I mean."

"Oh, yes," he murmured. "Absolutely."

"And this nontraditional relationship you're proposing. What does it entail exactly?"

He hesitated for the briefest moment. "I will own you," he stated plainly. "Body and soul. You will belong to me."

Whoa. That sounded incredibly weighty. She couldn't even wrap her head around it. Her mouth went dry, and she attempted to lick her lips but stopped when she remembered his reaction to it moments earlier.

"I will guide you through this," he said, adopting a gentler tone. "I won't throw you to the wolves. I'll be patient as you navigate the kind of relationship I expect."

"I don't even know what to say right now," she blurted out.

His hand glided over her jaw and cheek. They were eye level, their mouths just inches apart.

"I believe this is where you tell me how you feel about me," Keith prompted. "Do you want me as much as I want you?"

Oh God, was this truly happening? Could she dare to speak the words out loud? It felt like teetering on the edge of a skyscraper, peering over the precipice. The wind in your face, knowing one misstep would send you plummeting.

His mouth moved closer, skimming over her jawline, his lips barely grazing her skin. He nipped at her earlobe, sending a shiver coursing through her body.

"Tell me what I want to hear," he commanded, his voice husky, brushing against her ear.

"Yes," she croaked.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I want you."

The words slipped out with a sigh, reluctantly pulled from her lips. She couldn't even meet his gaze.

"Rosalie, look at me."

There was something about the calm authority in his voice that resonated with her, making her hyperaware of his presence, of him as a man. And it made her want him even more.

She turned her gaze to him, meeting the blaze in his eyes. He caught her hair again, tugging slightly as he toyed with the strands.

"I have a contract," he said. "It outlines every aspect of our proposed relationship. I want you to read it carefully over the weekend and give me your decision on Monday."

She blinked rapidly, so startled that words didn't come immediately. When they did, her tongue felt heavy and unwieldy.

"A contract? You want us to have a contract?"

"Don't sound so horrified," he replied coolly. "It's for your protection. And mine."

She shook her head in confusion. "I don't even understand."

"My tastes are unconventional, Rosalie. Read the contract, and as I said, read it carefully. Then decide if you can commit to the kind of relationship I expect."

"You're serious."

He picked up the phone, sliding the receiver away from his mouth as he fixed his gaze on her. "The only thing I'm serious about is that I've waited far too long to have you."

Chapter Four

Instead of having the driver take her back to her apartment where she knew Vivian would be waiting to pounce on her, Rosalie had him drop her off at West 81st Street, just two blocks from where she worked on West 83rd Street. There was a small park that wasn’t often overcrowded at this hour of the morning. Mostly strollers and nannies, young preschool children playing.
Instead of subjecting herself to Vivian's inevitable ambush at her apartment, Rosalie instructed the driver to drop her off a couple of blocks away from her workplace on West 81st Street. The early morning hour meant that the nearby park was relatively empty, with only a scattering of strollers, nannies, and young children playing.

Holding the contract tightly against her side, Rosalie sought solace on a secluded bench, far away from the bustling playground. She knew she needed time to process the contents of the document before her. The autocratic demand from Keith, urging her to quit her job and work for him, echoed relentlessly in her mind.

While Rosalie had never intended to make her job at the pastry shop permanent, she had grown fond of the couple who owned it. They had treated her well, and the familiarity of the place had been comforting. It wasn't a job that matched the level of education Craig had invested in her, but it provided a temporary respite, giving her the space to figure out her next move. Moreover, it allowed her to stand on her own feet, relieving Craig of the burden of worrying about her.

As she settled onto the bench, she scanned her surroundings to ensure her privacy. With a nervous anticipation, she retrieved the contract from her bag, carefully turning each page to reveal its contents.

Her eyes widened as she delved deeper into the document, battling a mixture of disbelief and morbid curiosity. Keith hadn't lied when he said that he would own her, that she would become his possession. Signing this contract meant surrendering all power to him.

The requirements outlined were exacting, demanding her constant availability and compliance. Her work hours were dictated solely by him, and her time belonged exclusively to him within those hours. The control he sought extended not only to her professional life, but to their entire relationship.

What disturbed Rosalie the most was the vague description of what she might be required to do. The contract's ambiguity hinged on the fact that she was expected to give him whatever he desired, however and whenever he wished.

The guarantee of physical and financial provision was overshadowed by the absence of emotional needs. Keith had made it clear that intimacy and emotions were not part of the equation. It was a cold, calculated agreement, akin to an employment contract with grounds for termination. Essentially, it was a dual job offer: one as his personal assistant and the other as his mistress, a plaything and possession.

The role of his personal assistant was merely a facade, granting him unrestricted access to her. He wanted her at his beck and call, both in the office and during business trips. But he took it a step further; her time away from work was also claimed by him.

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she read further. She glanced around anxiously, ensuring no prying eyes could decipher the words typed on those pages. The mention of sex acts involving bondage, restraint, and pain play left her unable to fathom the extent of what lay ahead.

Rosalie had never delved into the realm of kink. Her past relationships had been conventional, vanilla even, and she had been content with that. The idea of signing away her bodily autonomy felt surreal, like something out of a poorly written erotic novel.

As she sat on the bench, the weight of the contract pressing against her lap, Rosalie's mind raced with questions. What did it all mean? What did Keith truly expect from her?

She couldn't help but wonder about the other women who had been involved with Keith. Though she had never met them, she had heard Craig and Bennett discuss them. If Keith had a ready-made contract, it was likely he presented it to all his partners.

The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth. While she didn't expect to be treated differently, it would have been nice to feel special, or at least unique. Instead, she found herself lumped in with the countless others who had come before her.

Yet, she appreciated Keith's transparency. She preferred brutal honesty over deception. At least she knew where she stood with him. He had made it clear that he wanted her to enter into this arrangement with her eyes wide open. Well, after reading this contract, her eyes were certainly wide open.

Checking her watch, Rosalie realized she still had time to make it to the pastry shop if she started walking immediately. She folded the contract and returned it to her bag, determined to focus on her work for the remainder of the day. Pulling out her phone, she discovered a flurry of messages from her best friend, all demanding to know how her meeting with Keith had gone. Vivian's threats of bodily harm if she didn't spill the details only added to Rosalie's mounting anxiety.

What could she possibly say? Typing "Keith wants me to be his personal plaything" seemed ludicrous, even if it would undoubtedly make Vivian swoon. And the thought of Craig finding out sent a shiver down her spine. It would not only strain his friendship with Keith but potentially ruin their business partnership. Moreover, she doubted Craig would ever understand, and it would create a chasm between them.

As Rosalie contemplated her options, she realized she was actually considering Keith's proposal. Her emotions ranged from shock to disbelief, mingling with a sense of curiosity. Part of her wanted to explore just how unconventional Keith truly was, based on the glimpses offered by the contract. The thought both intrigued and scared her.

Vaguely recalling Keith's past divorce from Lisa, Rosalie wondered if their relationship had been anything like this. Had he been burned by it? Normal people didn't go to such lengths to establish the nuances of a relationship.

Lost in her thoughts, Rosalie didn't notice the passing of time. It was only when she checked her watch again that she realized it was almost time to leave for work. She pushed herself off the bench, her body still buzzing from Keith's kiss, and made her way to La Patisserie.

The familiar sound of the bell jingling greeted her as she entered the shop. She exchanged warm greetings with Greg and Louisa, the owners, before slipping into the back to retrieve her apron and beret. Though she felt silly wearing the French beret, she obliged, as it was part of the shop's uniform.

Returning to the front, Rosalie found Louisa waiting for her.

"I'll take the counter today. Greg will be baking in the back," Louisa informed her. "We have a big order to fill by tonight, so could you handle the tables?"

Rosalie nodded, grateful for the distraction. The small café boasted only five tables, mostly catering to takeout orders. However, a few regulars enjoyed sitting inside during their lunch breaks. The additional four self-serve tables outside didn't require her attention.

Louisa's concern for Rosalie's eating habits resurfaced as she asked, "Have you had anything to eat?"

"I ate this morning. I'll grab something before I leave," Rosalie assured her.

"Alright then. Make sure to try Greg's new sandwich. He wants your opinion before adding it to the menu."

With a smile, Rosalie headed toward a recently seated couple, ready to serve them. For the next hour, she kept busy attending to the lunch rush. However, her mind continuously wandered back to Keith and the contract, causing her to make rare mistakes with orders.

Louisa cast concerned glances in her direction, but Rosalie pushed through, not wanting to worry her or invite any questions about her state of mind.

As the lunch rush subsided around two, Rosalie considered taking a break. She planned to grab a drink and sit for a moment to gather her thoughts. Just as she was about to do so, she looked up and saw Keith walking through the door.

Caught off guard, Rosalie stumbled mid-stride, nearly falling to the floor. In a swift motion, Keith lunged forward and caught her before she could collapse. His hands remained firmly wrapped around her arms, even after she regained her balance. Heat crept into her cheeks, and she anxiously scanned the shop, hoping no one had witnessed her clumsiness.

"Are you alright?" Keith's voice was low, concern lacing every word.

"I'm fine," she managed to reply, her voice barely above a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

A half-smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he regarded her with a lazy gaze. "I came to see you. Why else would I be here?"

Rosalie attempted to brush off the encounter, suggesting, "Because they serve good coffee?"

He started toward a table in the far corner, his grip still firm on her elbow. "Keith, I have work to do," she whispered urgently.

"You can take my order," he insisted, settling into his seat.

She huffed in exasperation. "You never eat here, and you know it. I can't imagine you stepping foot in a place like this."

Raising an eyebrow, Keith countered, "Are you calling me a snob?"

"I'm merely making an observation."

Picking up the menu, Keith perused it briefly before lowering it again. "Coffee and a croissant."

Rosalie shook her head and walked behind the counter to retrieve the croissant and pour a cup of coffee. She silently thanked the heavens that Louisa had disappeared into the back with Greg, sparing her from any prying eyes. She needed no questions about Keith's identity.

Waiting for her trembling hands to steady, Rosalie picked up the cup of coffee and saucer, carrying them to Keith's table. As she would have retreated, his hand shot out, gripping hers.

"Take a moment and sit down, Rosalie. No one's in the shop," he urged.

"I can't just sit down. I'm at work, Keith."

"Don't you deserve a break?" he asked gently.

Rosalie refrained from mentioning that she had been about to do just that before he walked in. She wouldn't put it past him to time his arrival when he knew she wouldn't be preoccupied.

With a resigned sigh, she sank into the chair across from him, fixing him with an unwavering gaze.

"Why are you here, Keith? You said I had until Monday."

"I wanted to see what I'm up against," he admitted bluntly.

His gaze swept around the shop and returned to her, a questioning look in his eyes.

"Is this really where you want to be, Rosalie?"

She glanced over her shoulder, ensuring Greg and Louisa were still out of sight. Then, she locked eyes with Keith, her knees trembling beneath the table.

"There's a lot to consider in that contract," she managed to say, her voice strained. "A lot."

Keith's eyes glimmered with satisfaction. "I want you to be certain."

Reaching across the table, he slid his fingers over her wrist. Her pulse quickened under his touch, and goosebumps raced up her arm.

"Quit your job, Rosalie," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You know this isn't where you belong. I can offer you so much more."

"For you or for me?" she challenged.

His smile returned, seductive and irresistible. "It will be mutually beneficial."

"I can't just abandon them. It wouldn't be right, Keith."

"I'll ensure they find a temporary replacement until they fill your position. There are plenty of people in need of work, Rosalie. The Millers don't want to let you go. They're happy to keep you for as long as possible."

Rosalie hesitated, her hand subconsciously pushing back her hair. "I'll consider it."

Keith's smile grew warmer, his eyes radiating a sense of contentment. Before she could fully process the situation, he pulled her closer, tilting her chin with his finger. Their mouths melded together, the kiss intense and consuming. Rosalie surrendered, melting into him, as he deepened the connection.

His tongue brushed against hers, teasing and retreating before exploring her bottom lip. He tugged gently, suckling it between his teeth.

"Think about it, Rosalie," he murmured against her lips. "I'll be waiting for your decision."

With that, he released her and left the shop, disappearing into his waiting car.

Rosalie remained rooted to the spot, her gaze fixed on the empty street long after he had departed. Her lips tingled from his kiss, and she absentmindedly traced them with her fingers. His scent still lingered, and his presence seemed to echo within her.

Her trance was abruptly broken by the jingling bell above the door, signaling the arrival of another customer. Louisa emerged from the back, ready to ring up the order, while Rosalie cleared Keith's table, removing the half-empty coffee cup and untouched croissant.

As her shift neared its end, Rosalie found herself lost in thought, her mind consumed by Keith and the contract. Greg continued to bake in the back, while Louisa rejoined him. Rosalie lingered in the doorway, grappling with her decision. Eventually, Greg noticed her standing there.

"Is something wrong, Rosalie?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "There's something I need to discuss with you and Louisa."

Chapter Five

“Holy shit, you quit?” Vivian asked.
"Wow, you really quit?" Vivian exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise.

Rosalie nodded slowly, her attention focused on the pot of boiling water. She sprinkled some salt into it and added the spaghetti.

"Come on, spill the beans. What made you make this decision? I thought you were going to become a pastry chef or something," Vivian prodded.

"You sound just like Keith," Rosalie muttered under her breath.

Vivian's eyes narrowed. "Is he the reason why you quit? You've been holding out on me about that meeting today, and it's driving me crazy!"

Rosalie hesitated for a moment, then decided she couldn't tell Vivian about the contract or anything related to her meeting with Keith. If she was seriously considering accepting his offer, she didn't want her private life with Keith to be known by anyone, not even her best friend.

But she had to say something. So she opted for the lesser of two evils.

"He offered me a job," Rosalie finally revealed.

Vivian's eyes widened. "Wait, he kissed you and threatened to do... things on the terrace, all because he wants you to work for him?"

Yeah, it sounded pretty weak to Rosalie too, but she wasn't about to mention that damn contract.

"Well, there might be more to it, but for now, he wants me to be his personal assistant. He thinks I'm wasting my talents at La Patisserie," Rosalie explained.

Vivian poured them each a glass of wine and slid one across the bar to Rosalie. Rosalie stirred the spaghetti sauce and gave the noodles a quick poke.

"I have to agree with him on that one. You didn't go to grad school just to serve coffee and croissants," Vivian remarked dryly. "But being a personal assistant? He definitely has a unique definition of 'personal'."

Rosalie remained silent, refusing to take the bait.

"So, you must have made up your mind if you quit, right?" Vivian pressed.

Rosalie let out a sigh. "I haven't made a final decision yet. I have until Monday to decide."

Vivian shrugged. "It's a no-brainer if you ask me. He's rich, he's incredibly attractive, and he wants you. What's not to love about that?"

"You're impossible," Rosalie said in exasperation. "Money isn't everything, you know."

"Says the girl who's spoiled by her older brother, who also happens to be insanely wealthy," Vivian retorted.

Rosalie couldn't deny that Craig was just as wealthy as Keith, or that he did a lot for her. He had even bought her this apartment, although he didn't appreciate the fact that she often walked the twenty blocks to work. She didn't need a roommate, but Vivian needed a place to stay, and Rosalie enjoyed her company. But she never relied solely on Craig. She wasn't extravagant and had learned to be frugal with her modest earnings.

"I'm more curious than anything," Rosalie admitted. "Keith has always fascinated me. I've had a thing for him for as long as I can remember."

"Curiosity is a valid reason to pursue a guy," Vivian remarked. "How will you know if you're compatible unless you take the leap?"

The idea of taking the leap seemed fitting. However, it wasn't just a small leap; it felt more like a free fall off a cliff. Rosalie itched to take out that damn contract again to review it, but she couldn't do it in front of Vivian. She would have to wait until later.

She speared a noodle with her fork and took a bite. "Dinner's ready. Grab a plate, and I'll drain the spaghetti."

"I'll get more wine," Vivian offered. "You're an amazing cook, Rosalie. I wish I had your skills. Guys love that."

Rosalie laughed. "You have no trouble in the guy department, trust me."

And it was true. Vivian was stunning. Though only slightly taller than Rosalie, she had curves that attracted men like bees to honey. Her beautiful burnt-auburn hair had shades of red and gold that shimmered under sunlight. Combined with her warm, twinkling brown eyes, Vivian was a radiant woman with a sunny personality that endeared her to everyone she met.

"The problem is finding the right guy," Vivian said wistfully.

Rosalie winced, regretting her careless words. Vivian didn't struggle with attracting men, but the last man she had attracted had been bad news.

Raising her wineglass, Rosalie attempted to smooth over her mistake. "Cheers to that."

• • •

Keith's office phone rang, but he let it continue ringing as he focused on typing a memo. It was after hours; no one should be calling his office.

The room fell silent, and a few seconds later, his cell phone rang. He glanced at the incoming contact and briefly considered letting it go to voicemail. With a sigh, he answered the call. He couldn't ignore his mother, even though he already knew why she was calling.

"Hello," he greeted.

"Keith, there you are. I thought you might still be at the office. You work such long hours these days. Aren't you ever going to take a vacation?" his mother's voice came through the line.

He had to admit, the idea of a vacation had its appeal. Even more enticing was the thought of taking Rosalie with him. A few days away from the world, just the two of them, to introduce her to his world? It was definitely worth considering.

"Hello, Mom. How are you?" Keith asked.

Asking his mother how she was doing was always a risky question, but he couldn't help himself. The problem was that she never took the polite way out and simply said "fine," regardless of how she truly felt.

"I can't believe what your father is doing," she exclaimed, clearly agitated. "He's making a fool of himself and me."

Keith let out a sigh. After nearly forty years of marriage, his father had moved out, served his mother with divorce papers, and seemed determined to quickly move on to newer, younger models. His mother was understandably not taking it well, and unfortunately, Keith had become her sounding board.

He loved his father, but he couldn't deny that he was being a huge jerk. Keith couldn't understand it. How could someone be with another person for so long and then suddenly decide to walk away?

Keith wasn't sure if he would have reached the point of asking Lisa for a divorce. She had been the one to leave him. Staying in a relationship where love and affection were nonexistent might not have been the right thing to do, but he would have spared her the pain and humiliation of a divorce. However, Lisa didn't feel the same way about sparing him. He didn't hold the divorce against her; maybe he should have done something before it got to that point. But he hadn't realized just how unhappy she was. What he did hold against her was the way she went about divorcing him.

"It's disgraceful, Keith. Did you see the papers this morning? He had a woman on each arm! What would he do with two women?" his mother ranted.

There was no way Keith was going to answer that question. He shuddered at the thought of his father... No, he wasn't going there.

"Mom, please stop reading the society pages," Keith said patiently. "You know it's only going to upset you."

"He's doing it on purpose to punish me," she insisted.

"Why would he want to punish you? What could you have possibly done to him?" Keith asked, genuinely confused.

"He's showing me that while I'm sitting at home grieving over the death of my marriage, he's out having the time of his life. He's telling me, without saying a word, that he's moved on and that I no longer have a place in his heart," his mother explained, her voice filled with pain.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Keith said gently. "I know this hurts you. I wish you would get out and do something. You have friends, you have causes you donate to and volunteer for. You're still young and beautiful. Any man would be lucky to have you."

"I'm not ready to move on," his mother replied stiffly. "It would be disrespectful to start a relationship so soon after the divorce. Just because your father is acting like a classless jerk doesn't mean I have to abandon my dignity."

"You need to worry less about what others think and focus on what makes you happy," Keith advised bluntly.

There was a long silence before his mother sighed. He hated seeing her so unhappy. Her pain hurt him deeply. He tried to stay out of his parents' affairs, but lately, it had become almost impossible. His mom called him every other day to vent about his dad's latest antics, while his dad was busy trying to push his newest girlfriend onto Keith. The problem was that his father was with a different woman every time Keith saw him, and his father was too focused on trying to mend their relationship, which had been strained by the very thing he was trying to force on Keith: acceptance. He wanted Keith to forgive and accept him. While Keith could forgive his father - he couldn't hold his decisions against him, it was his life and his happiness - he couldn't accept another woman taking on the role his mother had played for most of Keith's life.

"I'm sorry, Keith," his mom finally said in a quiet voice. "I know you probably hate it when I call. All I do is complain about your father. I shouldn't burden you with that. No matter what he's done, he's still your father, and I know he loves you."

"How about we have dinner over the weekend?" Keith suggested, hoping to lift her spirits. "I'll take you to Tribeca Grill."

"I'm sure you're busy," his mother replied.

"I'm never too busy for you," Keith insisted. "I'll always make time to have dinner with my mother. What do you say?"

He could almost hear the smile in her voice. "I'd like that. It's been a while since I've been out."

"Great. I'll drive out and pick you up," Keith decided. "We can talk on the drive back. After dinner, my driver will take you home."

"I'm looking forward to it," his mother said, genuine excitement evident in her voice.

It had been far too long since he had heard her sound excited about anything. In that moment, he was glad he had made the effort to get her out of her self-imposed isolation. She needed to face the world and realize that it hadn't ended just because her marriage was over. He had given her time to grieve and hide away in the house his father had moved out of. But enough was enough. Maybe he could even convince her to sell the house in Westchester and move to the city. There was no point in keeping it now; it held too many painful memories. She needed a fresh start.

He knew all about fresh starts. After his divorce, he had gone through a period where he just wanted to be left alone, much like his mother. He understood it, but he also knew that the sooner she got out and started living again, the sooner she would be able to move on.

"I love you, Mom," Keith said, his voice filled with warmth.

"I love you too, Son. See you on Saturday night, okay?" his mother replied.

He ended the call and stared at the photo still sitting on his desk. It was a picture of his parents taken on their thirty-ninth anniversary. They had looked so happy. But it had all been a lie. Two weeks after that photo was taken, his father had moved out and immediately started dating other women.

Keith shook his head. More and more, he was beginning to realize that no marriage was safe. Divorce could happen to anyone. There was an argument to be made for not putting yourself in a position to experience the emotional turmoil of a breakup. And there was definitely an argument for protecting yourself from the financial consequences of a divorce. Divorces were far more expensive than marriages.

He was content with the way he managed relationships now. No financial or emotional risks involved. No bruised egos. No hurt feelings. No betrayal.

He glanced down at his phone and pulled up a photo he had taken of Rosalie a few weeks earlier. She hadn't even known he was there, taking her picture. She had walked out of a shop on Madison Avenue, a few steps ahead of him, and he had been captivated by her presence. Standing on the sidewalk, her hair blowing in the breeze as she hailed a cab.

He had been overcome with desire. Not that he hadn't already known, but in that moment, he realized he had to have her. There was something about her that he found irresistible. His fascination with her had become an obsession. He had taken a photo of her without her knowledge, just so he could look at her as he had on that day.

Young, vibrant, and undeniably beautiful. Her smile lit up the world around her. He couldn't fathom how anyone could look past her when she was present.

She was captivating.

He didn't quite understand what made her so special. Perhaps it was the forbidden nature of their potential relationship. She was his best friend's younger sister. She was fourteen years younger than him. She was a woman he should leave alone.

But what he should do and what he wanted to do were two different things.

He wanted Rosalie, and he would do whatever it took to make her his.

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