Chapter 13

Mia

When I woke the next morning, it was bright, the sun just rising across the horizon. I turned my head to my right. Instantly, I sucked in a breath. The view before me was indeed spectacular. The city’s buildings glittered like golden jewels beneath the glowing orange. I sat up, my eyes feasting on the sight before me with amazement.

“Beautiful.” The voice reached me, and I jumped.

I turned my attention to the door and saw the man who had been on my mind the majority of last night.

“James.” I said, my heart pounding within my chest. And it was so early in the morning too.

Well, to be honest, it was hard not to be nervous around him, especially with him wearing only a pair of tight jeans and nothing else. His hair was wet, so perhaps he’d just showered.

He came into the room. “I did knock,” he said, placing a shirt on the bed. “But you were otherwise occupied.” He grinned. “I had to check in on you.”

In case the men snuck in and stole me away? I thought. Or I ran away? Then I thought both hypotheses were outlandish because the security was so tight in this building.

I nodded in understanding, very aware of my unpleasant appearance. I knew my hair and face were a mess. Feeling self-conscious, I pulled the blanket closer around me as though to hide myself from him. The fact that I was only wearing the I “heart” LA T-shirt and my undies didn’t help my feelings of insecurity either, especially with him so near.

“I’m making some breakfast and coffee. Would you care to join me?”

Tentatively, I nodded.

James smiled and got up from his spot on the bed. “All right. See you soon then. Oh, I noticed all your shirts are torn.” He nodded to the new shirt on the bed. “It’s probably too big for you, but it’ll do for today.” With that, he left the room.

Alone, I gazed at the shirt on the bed. It was a man’s shirt. Mr. James Maxwell’s shirt. My heart skipped a beat.

I pulled the duvet off me, jumped out of bed, and headed into the bathroom. Stripping myself naked, I headed into the shower and washed myself good. Once I was done, I got dressed in James’ shirt and my only pair of jeans that was still intact and wearable. Indeed, his shirt was way too large for me, the hem almost down to my knees and the sleeves past my hands. To make it more suitable, I rolled up the sleeves and arranged the hem so it sat properly on me. Once done, I headed downstairs.

James had breakfast ready as I hopped onto a barstool. He placed a plate of hot toast with scrambled eggs and crispy bacon in front of me. Beside the plate was a cup of coffee.

“Thanks,” I said, eyeing the meal, my mouth watering.

“No problem.”

I heard the amusement in his voice. I couldn’t help myself and had to glance up. Sure enough, he was watching me, his lips quirking up to one side.

I ignored him and began the meal. Hot, soft scrambled eggs melted in my mouth, combined with crispy bacon and, of course, toast.

As I ate, I wondered how a billionaire like him could actually cook. Surely most couldn’t. Since they always had their minions at their beck and call, doing things for them. And this billionaire should be the same, right? I didn’t forget there was Ms. Lane, the prim and proper housekeeper, as well as the many maids back at his mansion. Surely he didn’t have to lift a finger. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

“What’s wrong?”

I swallowed the delicious food and lifted my head. “Excuse me?”

James chuckled. “You’re frowning. My cooking not to your taste?”

I grabbed the mug of coffee and took a sip. After swallowing, I shook my head. “I’m just amazed you can cook. That’s all.”

He cocked his head to one side and then laughed. When he stopped, he leaned on the countertop, his face level with mine, his eyes staring deep into my own. I could never get used to that Prussian-blue color. Once again, the intensity took my breath away.

“Is it so rare, the likes of us cooking for ourselves?”

I licked my lips as his eyes bore deep in my own. “No, that’s not it.”

“Compliment me, Mia,” he demanded softly.

“Huh?” I was confused, and it showed on my face.

He smiled. “Compliment me,” he repeated.

I was both shocked and amused. He wanted me to compliment him on his cooking? Seriously? Who was this man?

I searched my brain for a suitable complimentary term and came up with, “It’s delicious.”

I meant what I said. The meal was simple yet delectable.

He became serious, and I noted the glint in his eyes. My heart leaped in my chest as he swiftly moved forward and caught me, his hand resting firmly at the back of my head. He slammed his lips against mine, kissing me so hard and wild that I became breathless. He didn’t stop there either. He parted my lips with his tongue and then invaded me.

I groaned and shivered deliciously. It was a different type of deliciousness than the food. This was intoxicating, enticing me to want more.

His tongue was passionate and wild, stroking me and caressing me until my body melted and my mind became a muddle of confusion.

When he released me from his embrace, I was light-headed and dizzy. I was still breathing heavily when he said, “Have you made up your mind yet?”

I wasn’t thinking really, and I nodded.

“Yes?” he probed.

I licked my lips. “There’s no way I can find two million,” I murmured softly. I was staring at his lips, and I had no idea why I was doing that. Honestly, I should put some distance between us while we were discussing this particular topic. But I couldn’t seem to move. James still had me close to him, his hand still behind my head and his face a mere inch from me. I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin as he spoke.

It was true where the two million was concerned. I’d been going through every possible scenario in my head last night, but there was simply no solution.

“Yes?” he probed again when I was quiet for a bit too long.

“I…” I lifted my eyes from his lips to his eyes. Suddenly, I blushed. “If I agreed to your proposal,” I said, nervous suddenly, “you’d free Andy from his debt? I mean…you won’t go after Andy… Andy would be free?”

James smiled. “Of course,” he said, his face stern and serious. “I’m a businessman, Mia. A contract is a contract.”

I licked my lips and nodded. “A business contract,” I said. Suddenly, a thought struck me. “A written and signed business contract,” I said distractedly. “I… I would have one between us, please.”

He released me and then roared with laughter. I was bewildered at his reaction. When he managed to calm down, he folded his arms across his chest.

“Well.” I carried on, annoyed at his amusement. “I don’t want you to go back on your word, now do I?”

He leaned toward me again and proceeded to stroke my lips as if he found the sore red flesh fascinating.

“I would be sad if you didn’t want a signed contract, Mia. I wouldn’t want you to run off on me,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I’d be sad.”

I cocked my head to one side, wondering why he’d care if I were to run away before the contract ended. It must be his pride and possibly a billionaire thing. And of course I could never do that, running away before the contract ended.

Five years was a long time though. I wondered if I could handle it. But it was for Andy’s sake. If both Andy and I were to work our hardest, me as a kitchen hand and he as a waiter, to pay that two million dollars, it would take us the rest of our lives. Unless, of course, one of us won the lottery, which was very unlikely because neither of us had ever bought a lottery ticket before and weren’t likely to in the future.

“I won’t run away,” I confirmed. “I’ll live up to my end of the contract, and you, mister, better uphold yours as well,” I said firmly.

He straightened up. “Sounds good to me,” he replied.

I watched him with interest, my guard up.

“Follow me,” he instructed and then headed toward the living area.

I slipped off the barstool and followed him as he commanded. He led me into a spacious room that had a great view of the city below. The moment I saw the large sleek glass desk and leather chair, I knew it was his office. He went to sit on the comfortable chair and powered on his laptop. I reluctantly stepped in farther as he turned his attention to me.

He must have noticed my low spirits. “Have you changed your mind?”

I reddened. Even though I was afraid and unsure of what I was doing, of what would happen after the contract was signed, of what he’d do to me, I wasn’t a coward. I wasn’t the type to turn tail and run.

“Of course not,” I stammered and marched to stand before him, refusing to show him how anxious I really was.

“Sit down. This won’t take long,” he said, nodding toward the sofa a few steps behind me.

I glanced behind me and was reminded of the scenario of us together in his office back at his mansion yesterday. I hesitantly moved toward the sofa and took a seat.

I was to become his mistress for five years. I knew mistresses performed nightly entertaining with their men, and by entertaining, I meant sex of course. But what else did a mistress do with her man? Oh God! I really hoped the sex thing wasn’t an every night session.

Suddenly, James’ statement from yesterday rang loud within my ears. I’d fuck you every night.

I swallowed hard, and my heart leaped with dread. But surely it couldn’t be that bad, right? People enjoyed sex. There was pleasure in sex. But every night? Who’d have the energy for that?

The very question caused me to raise my eyes to the man who was to be my future lover. My master?