**ROSEANA**
"Hey, are you sure your boss isn't allergic to shrimp?" I asked Martinez. We're sitting in the living room. It's Saturday, and I'd like to go grocery shopping. Since he was just here, I asked him to help me make a list of the items I needed to purchase.
Damon's secretary arrived early to retrieve the documents he had signed. Before he could even go, I called him to help me make a shopping list because he was the one who usually bought our groceries, especially the items Damon liked. Martinez knows Damon better than I do, even though I've only been with him for about a month.
"Seriously, Roseana, how many times do I have to assure you that sir is not allergic to shrimp? He is only allergic to oysters; he eats the rest. You can even feed him shark and he will not get any allergic reaction." Martinez responded annoyed, massaging his temples as if I were giving him a headache. Maybe he was annoyed because I asked him many times.
"Oh my god, you have anger issues," I whispered, attempting to irritate him even more as I continued to scribble in my little notepad what I was going to buy.
I overheard him exclaim, "God! You dare to say that!"
"I just want to feed your boss decent food, okay?" I explained. "Don't be offended if I clarify what he shouldn't eat."
I don't want to go through what occurred the other day again. Damon almost died when I served him pickled beans with oyster sauce. He flushed beet red and struggled to breathe. It turns out he was allergic to oysters and anything with them. It's such a relief that Martinez arrived and promptly gave Damon his prescription; otherwise, I'm not sure what would have happened to Damon.
I've been feeling guilty ever since. I'm also hesitant to cook for him since I don't want to trigger any other allergies that I'm not aware of, despite Damon's assurance that he has none. Seeing him gasp for air was terrifying.
"I know, okay? But I'm telling you that the only food he's allergic to is oysters and nothing else. You have to believe me because one more question from you and I will lose my patience with your repeated questioning," Martinez preached.
I zipped my mouth shut. I would have spoken more, but I chose to remain silent because I was scared that if I annoyed him any further, he would refuse to help me.
"Sir Salvestre is not a picky eater; he will eat whatever you prepare him."
I nodded in agreement with what he stated. I jotted down what he was saying in my notebook. I made sure to remember everything he said, from how Damon wanted his coffee done to his dislike of bitter gourd.
I was seriously listening to what Martinez was saying when Damon came out of his room. In my peripheral vision, I noticed him heading towards us.
"What are you doing here, Martinez?" Damon inquired. Martinez and I turned our attention to him. The man was taken aback when he noticed his boss frowning and staring at us.
"Sir!" Martinez responded promptly. He sped up from sitting on the sofa to standing upright in front of his boss. "Your wife asked me to help her organize the groceries she'll be buying later," Martinez kindly said. In front of Damon, he appeared to be a pleasant sheep.
Damon shifted his gaze from Martinez to me. I nodded at him, assuring him that his assistant was telling the truth.
"OK. Let me see," he replied, extending his hand in my way, which is why I handed him the list Martinez and I made, and I watched him as he fixed his gaze on the list.
"Do you need anything else?" he inquired, his gaze still fixed on my notes.
"No, I guess I've already listed what I need to buy," I replied.
"Martinez, get the car ready; we'll be there in five minutes," Damon told his secretary. I hear nothing from Martinez. When I looked at him, he was already walking towards the door with his back to us.
"Why are you sitting on the floor? The floor is cold." Damon spoke again, and my attention was drawn back to him.
I raised my head to meet his gaze because I was sitting on the floor with a pillow on my lap and my two hands on the table. I choose to sit on the floor since it is more comfortable, especially for writing, and I can at least place my notebook on the table.
"Come on over here."
Damon kneeled in front of me. He turned his gaze toward me. I thought he would only look at my face, so he came closer to me. He's been doing a lot of that over the last few days. He'd walk up to me and gaze at my face for minutes; no words were exchanged, just him staring at me.
But I was taken aback when I found myself rising from my seat. "Damon!" I screamed. He held me in his arms. I was so stunned that I didn't realize I'd smacked him on the arm. Instead of being angry, the man laughed.
I asked, "Where are you taking me?" He did not place me on the sofa but instead moved towards the rooms.
Damon flashed me a flirtatious glance. He raised his brow at me as if tempting me. His act made me laugh. He has a funny appearance.
"To my room; we will not leave without a baby inside your stomach," he said lowly in my ear.
When I heard what he said, I had goosebumps. I almost shivered when his lips touched my ear. I'm not sure if he did it on purpose to tease me or not.
My entire face was flushed. Because I'm so red, I feel like a bursting tomato.
"You enjoy teasing me, Damon," I said. Damon's massive chest concealed my face. I can smell his sexy perfume combined with his fresh bath scent.
This man smells fantastic. I suppose there are no occasions when he does not smell great. I'm sure even his sweat smells nice.
He murmured, "Cute." Because my head was crushed against his chest, I could hear the volume of his laughter. His heart's quick pulse is like music to my ears. It helped ease my worry to know that I wasn't the only one with him who had a fast heartbeat.
I could hear the door open and close. I quickly removed my face from his chest. I took a peek around the room. When I realized we were inside my room, I quietly sighed a sigh of relief. I expected him to follow through on what he said, but he didn't.
He placed me on my bed. I was sitting on the foot of my bed, my head raised to look at him, when he brought his face closer to mine. At this point, I am no longer surprised by his sudden approach to me. But I was taken aback as he brought his face closer to mine. He encased my body in his arms.
As he approaches me, his two hands rest on both sides of my body; his stare is locked on my lips as if he is hunting them. I back away every time he approaches. I continued to move backward until my back touched the bed frame.
Damn flashed a sly grin. He stated, "You have nowhere to run." His right hand traveled effortlessly from my side to my arms, gliding on my skin and gently tracing it. My gaze was drawn to the movement of his hand. I stayed in my seat and let him do his thing.
"Your skin is incredibly soft. I wonder how it will feel with my lips tracing it," he said quietly.
I caught my breath when his hand went from my arm to my neck to my lips. He drew a line around my lips. I swallowed because my throat felt dry.