Chapter 9

Mia

It was another twenty minutes later when he pulled into a parking lot. I noticed the many flashy cars parked here. He switched off the engine and got out. Uncertainly, I undid my seat belt and did the same.

He was already in front of me by the time I shut the door.

“I won’t run,” I said, annoyed he should act like my unwelcome bodyguard. “I want to talk to my brother.”

I glanced up and saw the slight smile lifting one side of his lips.

“Good,” he said, wrapping a hand over my arm and steering me close to him.

As we walked to the door, I felt like I was glued to him by the hip. I scowled and tried to sidle away from him. The feeling of him so close didn’t sit well with me. I was hot and tense at the same time. I couldn’t believe he was turning me on by just holding me close.

He tightened his grip on me and even went so far as to rest his other hand around the back of my neck, under my braided hair. I jumped, a gasp escaping my lips. He knew I was about to pull away and tightened his hold on me.

“Behave yourself, Mia.” The warning drifted to me. He was referring to me by name.

I couldn’t help myself and glanced up at him as the maître d’ opened the door for us.

He flicked his gaze to me and said softly again, “Mia.” To tease me, I was sure.

Heat rushed to my face after he repeated my name, followed by a gentle stroke of my neck. What was he doing? Stroking me in the open like this?

“Good evening, sir.” The man in a polished black suit greeted us. Then he turned his attention to me, his smile bright. “And madam.”

I shifted my gaze from the man who was causing such turmoil within my body to the maître d’. I had to behave myself in order to talk to my brother. So I did just that by ignoring the light stroking and smiling at the maître d’.

“Hi,” I said.

“Table for two,” the billionaire said firmly.

“Of course, sir.” He showed us to a lone table that boasted a great view of the city. The restaurant was dimly lit, so I was grateful my sorry state of dress didn’t gain too much attention.

I glanced around, noting the big plates of delicious fare on almost every table. Steak, potatoes, pasta, steamed fish, risotto, salad. I hugged myself, suddenly feeling sad and sorry. I wanted to eat. But I was sure they cost the moon. I’d just have to sit and wait for this heartless billionaire to finish his meal so I could phone my brother.

The maître d’ returned, asking for drink orders. I ignored him, and more so the billionaire, who looked right at home here, ordering wine in French.

“A very good choice, sir,” the maître d’ replied.

I shut my mind and sank into despair when the man returned with an expensive bottle of wine. He expertly poured some into a crystal glass for James to taste. When the powerful man nodded, the maître d’ poured more. Then he turned to my side of the table and began pouring into mine as well.

I watched the white liquid dance in the glass before me, luring me in for a taste. I clamped my lips tighter and glanced at James. A brow rose as the Prussian-blue eyes directed their gaze toward me. I could tell he found my reaction amusing.

When the maître d’ left, I turned away and stared out at the beautiful view instead, avoiding that intense gaze that caused my heart to skip a beat.

“What are you having?” he asked.

Surprised, I turned my attention back to him. He was looking over the menu.

“I’m not hungry,” I said.

My tummy, however, betrayed my lie by making a loud grumbling noise indicating I was indeed hungry. Even though I’d just had some dinner—if one could call one tiny hamburger, fries, and a small soda a meal—I was still hungry. Food and I were the best of friends, except this best friend of mine kept deserting me when I needed it most. Of course, growing up poor wasn’t fun, and I would wholeheartedly dispute anyone who claimed otherwise.

James rested the menu on the table and leaned back in his seat, observing me. Silence descended, and I felt uncomfortable. His hot gaze seared me as my eyes concentrated on the city below, trying to ignore him. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the maître d’ returned, asking for his order.

“Steak for me,” he said. “And the salmon and pasta for the lady.”

I turned to him. My shock must have shown because I noted the satisfied smirk on his face.

“Drink your wine, Mia,” he directed gently.

“I’m broke!” I blurted out. “I’ll be even more broke by Friday.”

“I see,” he said. “I assume you’ve decided?”

“I told you I’d get the two million. Somehow, some way.” A lump formed in my throat because I knew I was lying through my teeth.

“Good luck with that,” he said. “I hope you realize how fruitless it is for a young woman of your experience—or should I say inexperience—to find such a sum in two days.”

I fisted my hands and refused to back down. I was harshly taught to be independent by my aunt and uncle since I was twelve, after my wonderful parents had died. It was hard to suddenly accept this billionaire’s offer, especially one such as this, becoming his mistress, completely dependent on him financially, totally secure and safe. Meanwhile, all I had to do was…

I couldn’t even think further. Yes, Mr. James Maxwell was every girl’s dream man. Heck, he was even mine. In fact, he was just my type—the dark hair, the blue eyes, the angular features, the toned muscles, and the tall, lean figure. I was very attracted to him, and I would definitely go out on a date with him in a heartbeat if the circumstances were completely different, if the circumstances were normal. But this was anything but normal.

I leaned forward and looked him straight in the eyes, a lovely fake smile playing across my face. I wanted to be a little sarcastic, but I knew I was terrible at playing the bitch. In fact, I could never because it wasn’t my nature.

“Then won’t you be so kind as to give me some suggestions?” I asked.

His eyes immediately drifted to my breasts. I felt the hot, intense gaze. Instantly, I was a little annoyed—first at how easily he could affect me, and second, because he was damn persistent to have what he wanted, which was me in his bed as his mistress for five years.

Why five years? Wouldn’t he get tired of me in a couple of months? Wasn’t five years a bit too long?

I said tightly, “Anything but that.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “A pity.”

I flashed my gaze to his, challenging him. “Is that all you ever think about?”

“No,” came his direct reply. “I spend most of my time thinking about business. Innovative ways to multiply profits. Do you realize you can really grow money if you put your mind to it?”

At my blank look, he laughed. He leaned forward and, with his eyes looking deep into mine, he said, “But with you? Yes.”

I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to know why he was so insistent on having me. It was so confusing. I was the girl no one noticed. I’d been invisible in high school and was still invisible at work. I was told to stay away from the front of house in the restaurant because I wasn’t pretty enough to serve customers. I knew I wasn’t attractive because guys had never asked me out on dates. Because guys never looked twice at me. So why did James Maxwell want me?

“Why me? Why not other girls…women? Beautiful women. I mean the real pretty ones… The ones that know how to please you. They’re excellent at what they do. I wouldn’t know how to do it properly. I mean…”

Oh God! I didn’t even know how to put this into words. I felt hot and flustered and very embarrassed.

He laughed again, deep and thick, rumbling from within his chest. It caused a delicious tingle along my spine.

When he stopped, he was staring at the wineglass before him. I thought he wasn’t going to answer my question when he caught my wrist and pulled me forward. He placed both of his warm hands over mine and then turned my hand over as if to inspect it closely. He was stroking my palm and then my finger, linking and intertwining mine with his. It was mesmerizing, drawing me in like a moth to a flame, making me lose my sensibility.

When I managed to snap myself from his allure, I drew my hand back, only to be held captive once again. His grip was firmer this time, making sure I wouldn’t be able to escape.

“Your hand is so small,” he said softly. His eyes flicked to me as he continued. “I wonder if it could manage to wrap around my—”

I yanked my hand back before he could finish his sentence. Shoving the chair back, I hoisted myself up, only to find myself being pulled to the place I most wanted to escape. I was on his lap in the blink of an eye, his arm firmly around me. I had no way to break free.

He leaned closer and whispered, “Why you, Mia? Because I’m interested in you. You’ll be a fascinating bedmate. You have a good body, Mia, very obedient. I can tell when I touch you, when I kiss you.”

I felt the warmth of his breath caressing my ear and shivered deliciously. Oddly enough, he was right. My body responded to his every touch, his every word, his every suggestion. I found I couldn’t move. I was mesmerized by the low hum of his voice, enticing me into a dangerous, seductive trap. Perhaps I didn’t want to escape.

“I wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you along the street.”

The confession made me blush, and my body heated with a desire so strong I thought I’d probably go mad.

“But I…” I managed to squeak out. “I have no experience.”

“I don’t want experience, Mia,” he said softly. “You’ll be doing everything I tell you to. Obeying my every command. I’ll teach you everything I know.”

I eased my struggle and turned my eyes to him. “I’d be very horrible at it. I mean, I’ll be a horrible student. And I’m not pretty. And I’m a virgin. You need a really beautiful woman who has experience in these things. Isn’t that what you billionaires like?”

He raised a brow at me. “I don’t like sharing my toys, Mia. I like mine squeaky clean. Why would I want someone who’s been fucked by so many other men when I can have a brand-spanking-new one no one has ever touched or tasted before?”

He spoke about me like I was one of his brand-new cars. I bet every car he’d ever owned was new and no one had ever even test driven it before either. This, of course, pissed me off. I didn’t want to be treated like his toy. I was a human being with real feelings. My anger over his behavior cooled my aroused body, and I became icy and stiff.

He rested his hand against the side of my hip, branding my flesh with his touch.

“Now then. What’s your decision, Mia?”

I stared deep into his eyes. He was drawing me in, and I knew my resistance was weakening.

I was about to utter something when the waiter appeared.

“I have your orders,” he said, and I jumped. I turned to give him a small apologetic smile. The man gave me a knowing grin.

It was only when the waiter placed our dishes on the table that the billionaire allowed me to escape his clutches. I eagerly returned to my seat.

The delicious smell of food caught my attention, and I turned my eyes longingly on the pasta.

“Enjoy,” the waiter said and then left us.

James dug right in. When he saw I just sat there staring at the food, he ordered me to eat. I did as told and did so with enjoyment. The pasta was delicious, rich, and creamy. Between mouthfuls, I sipped the sweet wine. Together they were heaven. When I was halfway through, I glanced up and caught James watching me with interest.

Is he enjoying watching me eat? I wondered.

“Why are you stopping?” he asked.

“Why are you staring at me?” I shot back.

“You look like you haven’t eaten for days.”

“I haven’t,” I said, “been eating properly for days.”

I glanced at his plate. He was already finished. I returned my attention to my own meal and continued. After swallowing a mouthful, I said, “Look somewhere else. The view is beautiful and interesting.”

“I disagree,” he said.

I took a big gulp of the wine and then popped in another mouthful of pasta. “All right, we agree to disagree. Now look somewhere else.”

He didn’t reply, just continued to watch me. I resigned and continued enjoying my meal until my plate was empty. For the first time in years, I was happy and satisfied with the food served to me. Emotionally so. I didn’t feel like I wanted to eat anything more.

But when he offered dessert, I couldn’t help myself.

“Yes, please,” I replied eagerly with a bright smile on my face.