Midnight Bride The CEO’s Temptation

When Crystal looked through the videos on the stolen cell phone, she was disgusted to find erotic photos of Joyce and James, the middle-aged director. Then, under her breath, she muttered, "Isn't that Cecelia's Father?"

Nathan nodded, verifying Crystal's suspicion.

"Gross," Crystal muttered. She couldn't stomach the photos for very long, and she quickly turned off the screen. She had initially intended to return the phone, but she hadn't found the video with her in it, so she decided to keep it handy as insurance.

Nathan had his hand on hers, and he said, "Penny for your thoughts."

Crystal: "Leslie asked me to accompany her on a blind date, and I said that I would."

Nathan gave her a stern look. "Did you promise that you would go?" he asked.

Crystal nodded. "Is that a problem?" she asked.

"Probably not," Nathan replied." The date must be what Arnold's doing, though. I wonder what he is up to. He's never been a match-making type..."

Crystal: "Does he like Leslie?"

Nathan shook his head and said, "He doesn't. But she is too possessive of him. That must be why he's trying to get rid of her. She is always blocking him."

Crystal frowned. "Aren't they siblings?"

Nathan: "Nope. In fact, he is looking for his sister! Didn't you know that?"

Crystal shook her head and said that she hadn't.

Nathan: "It's true. Their nanny abducted his sister at the age of five, and she was sold on the black market. Later, Arnold found a girl with the same birth date as his sister, and he thought she was his sister. He brought her home and treated her like a sister, but a DNA test showed that she was not his sister."

Crystal: "Was that girl Leslie?"

Nathan: "It was."

****

In the military's villa - After spending the evening in bed, Leslie finally got up, got dressed, and got ready to write her self- criticisms. As a child, she had shown a great talent for languages, so she had learned many tongues. That didn't mean that she was anxious to get down to business, though. She knew that no matter how hard she tried, Arnold would be critical of her work. He had perfect handwriting, but hers had never been very good.

Of course, one of the things she loved about Arnold was his skill with a pen. In her opinion, the ability to write neatly was very sexy, and just thinking about his cursive made her wet.

Leslie staggered to the desk, sat down, and rummaged around for a pen and paper. If she hadn't opened her big mouth, she would have only had to write one article. However, she had to do five - one in English, French, Arabic, Russian, and Chinese. This is such a waste of time! - she thought as she wrote - Arnold won't even be able to understand these.

Leslie thought about how she could get her peons to do the work for her if she were at school. She wasn't at school, though. She was isolated and helpless. After working at it for about fifteen minutes, she thought - this is bullshit, and she downloaded a self-criticism from the Internet. She changed a few things to personalize it, and then she used Google translate for the other four languages. When that was done, she printed them off, and she was incredibly happy with her work.

Without hesitating, she hurried to Arnold's room to hand over the printouts. Much to her surprise, though, he was not there. The room was empty. She walked towards the open window, and it wasn't until she'd been in the room for a couple of minutes that she heard the sound of water running in the connected bathroom.

Leslie turned towards the bathroom, and a smile appeared on her face when she saw Arnold's naked outline in the shower. She chuckled as she went to lay in his bed, and she brought his pillow to her face so that she could take in his manly musk. Finally, and without meaning to, she fell asleep.

While Arnold had a shower, Leslie dreamt of the day he had brought her home. She had been the same age as his long-lost sister would have been. He said that he would take care of her and make up for all of the time that had been lost. She had been fifteen at the time.

The smell of scented soap permeated her dream, and she woke up. She opened her eyes, and Arnold was on the edge of the bed, watching her. He was half-naked. All that he wore was the towel wrapped around his waist.

Arnold was well aware of her eyes on him, and he smirked. "Have you seen enough?" he asked.

"I brought you the self-criticism you ordered me to write," Leslie said. "They're on the windowsill."

Arnold turned and snatched them up, and when he turned, Leslie saw that he'd been injured. Leslie pointed to the cut along his abdomen and asked what had happened. He was bleeding, and she offered to get the First Aid Kit.

"It's nothing," Arnold said. "Never mind the kit. I hurt myself while in training. It had scabbed over already, but the water in the shower reopened it."

Arnold brought the self-criticisms to his face to smell the ink, and then he began to read. He read the one in English first, and Leslie was shocked when he started reading the other ones. I had no idea you knew so many languages! - she thought - Aren't you just full of surprises? As she watched him read, she felt a rush of heat in her groin. It spread out into the rest of her body, leaving a tingling feeling in its wake. And she couldn't keep her eyes off of the wound in his side.

The truth was that Arnold didn't speak the other languages, but he didn't want Leslie to know that. Even if she knew, he didn't think that she'd play tricks on him.. After all, he could find a translator to check her work.