Chapter 106: The Owner - Mr. Engelbert Montero

The lawns are greener than green, the house looks like it receives a daily scrub down and even the gravel seems to receive daily maintenance. If the exterior is anything to go by, then I can't imagine the interior needing any work. I looked up at the dozens of sash bay windows, seeing soft curtains hanging from all of them. I'm tempted to call Herman to check I've got the right address, but it says The Country Hills on the gate. And that miserable sod on the other end of the intercom was obviously waiting for me.

As I pondered my next move, the doors opened, revealing the largest man I had ever seen. He saunters out to the top of the steps. I gasped when I saw him, taking a slight step back. He was wearing a black suit - specially made to be sure because it was not a regular size - a black shirt and a black tie. His shaved head was shiny, and sunglasses covered his face. If I could form a mental image of who I expected to show up at their doors, it certainly wouldn't be him. The man was a mountain, and I knew I was standing here staring at him. I'm suddenly slightly worried that I've gone to some mafia control center, and I'm searching my brain trying to remember if I moved my rape alarm to my new handbag.

'Miss Fernando?' he drawled.

I was attracted by his massive presence, raising my hand in a nervous gesture. 'Hi.' I whisper, my voice laced with all of the apprehension I really feel.

'This way.' he rumbles deeply, giving a sharp nod of his head, and turns to walk back into the mansion.

I meant to cut and run, but the brave and dangerous part of me wondered what lay beyond those doors. He is not a butler. I grabbed my bag, closed my car door, and checked my rape alarm as I walked home, only to find that I had left it in my other bag. I will continue anyway. Out of pure curiosity, I climb the stairs and cross the threshold into a large entrance hall. I surveyed the vast area and was immediately struck by the grand, centrally positioned, curved staircase leading to the first floor.

My fears were confirmed. This place is clean.

The decor is luxurious, lush, and very intimidating. The deep blue, and gray colors with hints of gold and original woodwork, together with the rich mahogany parquet floor, make the place striking and extravagant. It's exactly how I expected it to be and nowhere near my design style. But then again, looking around, why any interior designer is there becomes more confusing. Herman said they personally requested me, so I'd rather think they want to modernize the place, but that was before I saw the exterior and now the interior as well. The decor is appropriate to the period building. It is in perfect condition. Why am I here?

The big guy headed to the right, leaving me to rush after him. My tan heels clicked against the parquet floor as he led me up the central staircase, toward the back of the Mansion.

I could hear the hum of conversation and glance to my right, I noticed many people sitting at different tables eating, drinking, and talking. Waiters serve food and drink, and the distinctive voices of The Modern Band croon in the background. I frowned, but then I clicked. It is a hotel - a luxury country hotel? My shoulders relaxed a little by the end of it, but it still didn't explain why I was there. I passed a few bathrooms and then a bar. Several men sat on bar stools joking and teasing a young woman, who, apparently, had returned from the bathroom with a toilet roll stuck to her heel. She playfully slapped the main instigator on the shoulder, scolding him while laughing with them.

This is all starting to make sense to me. I wanted to say something to the mountain of a man who was leading me, God only knows where, but he didn't turn once to see if I was following. Even so, the clink of my heel tells him that I am. He doesn't talk much, and I suspect he won't answer me if I do.

We continued past two more closed doors. Judging by the clanking of pots, I assumed the kitchen was one. Then he led me into a summer room - a huge, light, beautiful space divided into individual seating areas by the positioning of sofas, large armchairs, and tables. Floor-to-ceiling bi-fold doors span the entire face of the room, leading to a patio and an expansive lawn area. It's really amazingly inspiring. I gasped when I saw a glass building with a swimming pool. It's incredible. I shudder to think how much the rate is every night. This should be five stars - maybe more.

Once we're past the summer room, I head down a corridor until a large man stops outside a wooden paneled door. 'Mr. Engelbert's office.' he rumbles, knocking on the door, surprisingly gently given his mammoth size.

'The Manager?' I asked.

'The Owner,' he answered, opening the door and stepping inside. 'Come in.'

I hesitated at the threshold, watching the large man enter the room ahead of me. Finally forcing my feet to move, I moved across the room, taking in the same opulent atmosphere of Mr. Engelbert's office.

'Miss Shaira Rose Fernando, The Modern Properties.' Big guy announces.

'Perfect. Thank you, Allan.'

I was dragged from my awe-like state, straight into high alert. My back is fine.

I couldn't see him, he was obscured by the massive frame of the big man, but that raspy, smooth voice froze me, and it certainly wasn't coming from a smoking, overweight, wax jacket-wearing Lord . of the Country Hills.

The big man, or Allan as I now knew him, moved to the side, giving me my first glimpse of Mr. Engelbert Montero.

Oh good God. My heart pounds in my chest and my nervous breathing rockets to dangerous levels. I suddenly feel light-headed, and my mouth ignores my brain's commands to at least say something. I just stood there staring at this man, while he was staring at me. His hoarse voice stopped me in my tracks, but the sight of him...well, that turned me into an unresponsive, trembling wreck.

He rose from his seat, my gaze traveling until he was standing at full height. He is very tall. His white shirt was casually rolled up at the sleeves, but he still wore a black tie, loosely knotted and hanging in front of a broad chest.

He walked around his huge desk and slowly walked towards me. It was then that I received the full effect of him. I swallowed. This guy is so perfect, it almost hurts me. Her dirty slight-blond hair looked like he had half-attempted to style it but given up. His eyes were a dull green, but bright and intense, and the stubble covering his square jaw did nothing to hide the handsome features beneath. He's pretty tanned and fair...Oh God, he's devastating. Lord of the Country Hills?

'Miss Fernando.' His hand reached for me, but I couldn't convince my arm to reach up and touch his outstretched offering. He's totally handsome!

When I don't offer my hand, he reaches forward and grabs both of my shoulders, then slowly leans down to kiss me, his lips lightly brushing against my burning cheek. I was tense about everything. I could hear my pulse pounding in my ears, and even though it was completely inappropriate for a business meeting, I did nothing to stop him. I'm everywhere.

'It's a pleasure,' he whispered in my ear which made me moan slightly. He must be sensing my tension - it's not hard, I'm hard - because his grip loosens and he lowers his face to my level, looking me straight in the eyes. 'Are you okay?' he asked, one side of his mouth turned up as if smiling. I noticed a frown line on his forehead.

I snap myself out of my ridiculous inertness, suddenly aware that I'm still saying nothing. Did he notice my reaction to him? What about the big man? Glancing over, I saw the big man standing motionless, still wearing his glasses, but I knew his eyes were on me. I mentally shake myself and step back, away from Mr. Montero and his potent grasp. His hands dropped to his sides.

'Hi,' I coughed to clear my throat. 'Shaira. My name is Shaira.' I offer him my hand, but he doesn't rush to take it like he's not sure if it's safe, but he does...eventually.

His hand was cold and slightly trembling as he squeezed my hand tightly. The sparkle flickered and a strange look appeared on his stunning face. We both pulled our hands back in shock.

'Shaira.' He's trying my name on his lips, and it takes all of my strength not to moan again. He must stop talking - immediately.

'Yes, Shaira.' I confirmed.

He seems to be in his own little nirvana now, while I'm becoming more aware of my rising temperature.

He seemed to suddenly come to his senses, put his hands in his pants pockets while shaking his head slightly, and took a step back.

'Thank you, Allan.' he nodded to the big man, who smiled slightly, softening his hard parts, then left.

I was alone with this man, who made me speechless, motionless, and almost useless.

He nodded towards two brown leather couches, positioned across from each other by the bay window, with a large coffee table sitting between them. 'Please, sit down. Can I get you a drink?' He looked away from me, walking towards the cabinet with various bottles of wine lined up on top. Surely he didn't mean wine? It's noon. Even by my standards, it is too early. I watched him turn to the cabinet for a moment before facing me again, looking at me.

'No, thank you.' I shook my head as I spoke, just in case the words didn't come out.

'Water?' he asked, that smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

Oh God, don't look at me. 'Please.' I smiled. My mouth is dry.

He took two bottles of water from the integrated refrigerator and turned his back to me. Then I coaxed my shaky legs to carry me across the room to the sofa.

'Shaira Rose?' His voice creeped out on me, causing me to panic midway through the route.

I faced him. Maybe this is a bad idea. 'Yes?'

He is holding a highball glass?'

'Yes, please.' I smiled. He must think I'm very unprofessional. I sat down on the leather couch, took my folder and phone out of my bag, and placed them on the table in front of me. I noticed my hands were shaking.

Christ, woman. Get a grip! I pretended to take notes while he walked back, placing my water and glass on the table. He sat on the sofa opposite and crossed one leg over the other, resting his ankle on his thigh. He stretched back. He's really making himself comfortable, and the silence that falls between us is screaming as I write anything and everything to avoid looking up at him. I knew I had to look at the man and say something at some point, but all the usual questioning questions ran, screaming and shouting, from my brain.

'So, where do we start?' he asked, forcing me to look up and accept his question. He smiled. I'm dizzy.

He watches me over the edge of his bottle as he raises it to his beautiful lips. I break eye contact, I reach forward to pour water into my glass. I struggle to reign in my nerves, and I can still feel his eyes on me. It was really awkward. I have never been so affected by a man.

'I guess you should tell me why I'm here.' I speak! I looked back at him as I took my glass from the table.

'Oh?' he said softly. There's that frown line again. Even so, he is still handsome with a frown line.

'You requested me by name?' I pressed.

'Yes.' he answered simply. He smiled again. I have to look away.

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