The cold spray of the shower poured down onto his dark hair.
Tristan scoffed darkly at himself, a derisive curve of his lips at how his own body was reacting like that of an eager teenager to this woman.
He had to cool himself under the cold shower, the moment he touched her, he had felt this buzzing feeling of electricity rush through him entirely. Since he found her laying on his bed, the feeling of wanting to touch her had engulfed him.
When he saw her break down in quiet tears, a well of displeasure had rushed through him for a reason he couldn't exactly point.
As he carried her, warm and soft as she was, a rush of desire had poured into him, so forceful he had almost lost control.
He could still feel the gentle swell of her breast pressed against his chest when he lifted her and the enticing scent of fresh flowers that wafted into his nose as he held her, and the silky brush of her golden blonde hair as it had swung against his arm.
Her skin was even softer that he had imagined it might be.
"Fuck!" He ran a hand through his wet hair as the water still poured over him and cursed himself because his body was already starting to respond to the images of her that appeared in his head.
He let out a long breath and grounded himself in rigid control then switched off the water.
He'd had multiple women in his bed before, satiated his manly hunger from countless willing women, from drop dead gorgeous super models to elite women who, when compared to the average young women in society could be called goddesses, yet not one of them had ever caused him to feel powerless against his desire as he was feeling now.
With them, he had the control, but just a light contact with a strange bride who broke into his suite seemed to make him weak.
"Get a damn grip Tristan, she's just another woman!" He admonished himself.
Yes, she was indeed just another woman like the multiple others he had encountered, fucked and completely forgotten, she shouldn't have such an effect on him where he was feeling such a powerful, instant attraction to her.
He dried himself as he exited the shower, then pulled on a pair of black trousers and a white shirt.
It was still astounding to him how easily he felt drawn to her, there have been many gorgeous women in his life, but her beauty was... different.
Different in a way that he had nothing to compare her to, every quiet action to the way her eyes widened when she saw him, the ways tears glistened in her eyes, the way she moved, the way her lips parted when she talks, all of it was made with infinite elegance. She was...in a whole complete sense, breathtaking.
But regardless of her appearance and her aura that was beyond comparison with another woman, it was still strange and unlike him to be so captivated by a woman this easily and this swiftly.
"And of all places, she came to me." He thought.
She must have been unaware that she fled marriage just to find herself in a lion's den, a lion who was starving with eagerness to devour her completely.
That broken look in her eyes which he saw at the wedding hall earlier wasn't wrong after all, those beautiful ice blue eyes that seemed to entrap him with a single glance.
He couldn't tell why he was suddenly feeling enraged at the thought that her groom might have done something to hurt her.
Him who ruined other people's feelings, him who cared little to nothing about whatever fucking pain anyone might be going through. He caused people pain and still slept well at night. As a businessman one had to be ruthless and he had that ruthlessness embedded into his bones, but this woman's feelings made him infuriated at whoever might have hurt her, the moment he turned to find her behind him, the image of her silently sobbing on the floor, curled to herself as if the whole world was against her felt especially jarring that his hands subconsciously tightened into fists.
He could recall every tremble of her body when he carried her.
He stopped pacing when the image in his head changed to the moment he helped her sit in the couch, the way she had looked at him. That unfathomable look in her beautiful crystal like orbs, and how those gorgeous lips were parted ever so slightly. He recalled the fierce urge to pull her face closer and crash his lips against her own just to know how she would taste.
After his meeting earlier, he had proceeded into his suite. He enjoyed the view on the terrace of this particular suite so he spent his time there, a cigarette in hand, finding himself thinking back to the little wedding he had passed by earlier, specifically the bride.
Who would have thought, the bride he had fantasized about for a single moment would be found, laying in his own bed, right where he wanted her. To say he had been utterly shocked to see that it was actually her was an understatement.
But one minute, he was affected internally by the brokenness in her voice and the next he was madly aroused by a single touch, a single impulsive action of carrying her in his arms.
These sudden...feelings he was having, were foreign to him, this sudden intense attraction was foreign, but he wouldn't be Tristan Grayson if he was unable to find his self control again.
He couldn't be broken by a woman, that would be laughable.
Celine heard footsteps approaching from the inner room and she immediately knew he was coming back, for some reason she suddenly felt flustered and quickly sprang up to her feet but due to the sudden movement she was unable to balance herself causing her to sway and almost lose her footing, but in a quick second he was by her side and steadied her by grabbing onto her shoulders and gently pushed her back to sit.
When she glanced up at him, she was a bit surprised to see his jaw rigidly clenched, he looked away from and her and his hands quickly pulled away as if her skin was burning to the touch.
He had just touched her to steady her so she wouldn't fall, but...why did he look like touching even a small part of her skin was a taboo he wanted to avoid?
She noticed that he had changed, wearing a white shirt this time that nevertheless still clung perfectly to every rigid muscle on his torso. The grating lines of his abs down his abdomen were very visible through the shirt. For a moment, she was distracted staring at him.
He suddenly walked away making her break off from the momentary spell of staring at him.
On the left side of the suite was a bar area where he strode to, pouring himself a glass of golden brown liquid and sipped from it.
After a few seconds he lightly tilted his head in her direction to ask,
"Want something to drink?"
"I...I don't drink."
Celine stayed away from alcohol best as she could. Being an actress, one wrong move and the media would be all over her. They were always lurking around, trying to find an opportunity to pick up a scandal or a few nasty pictures of her. If she were to get drunk, even by mistake and end up behaving in a strange manner she would be on the front covers of the news and every platform online which would greatly affect her reputation.
Not to mention, she had very low alcohol tolerance, she would get drunk from just a few glasses hence she avoided drinking altogether.
The man said nothing afterwards, lightly sipping on his wine.
In silence, she admired his back, his very muscular, manly back and the smallest parts of his side profile from the position he was sitting.
She stared at him for a long while before her gaze inadvertently drifted to the glass he was sipping from.
To be honest, she had always wanted to toss out her inhibitions sometimes, drink and forget all her problems but she never had the courage to do so even in safe places.
Right now she was in what felt like a presidential suite, and she might be here for...well as long as this man decided to let her stay.
But if she thought about it, this was the safest place she could be. No paparazzi, no media, a single glass wouldn't hurt.
She sat there for a very long while to gather up her courage and eventually stood up, taking one step after the other until she came to stand behind him.
"Changed your mind?" She heard his voice and it startled her.
How did he know she was standing behind him? She had walked so quietly.
The man made her nervous, even without saying a word he was so intimidating, when he did speak his voice was so seductive, like the kind of voice that would lure one into sin.
Celine walked up to the bar, taking the empty glass next to him.
"I'd like a drink please." She said to him, but he tilted his head to her, settling those fiery hazel eyes on her and she flinched.
That small action of flinching under his gaze caused his eyes to narrow subtly.
"Are you afraid of me?" He suddenly asked, but when the reply came up to her tongue, she stuttered.
"I... I'm not."
He didn't look convinced, grabbing the bottle of scotch.
"Come closer if you want me to pour you a drink."
Come...come closer?
Celine froze up in the same spot, her eyes widened and her cheeks turning bright pink.