Forever and Ever, My Greek Billionaire(23)
Just when she thought Charmaine had hung up on her, she heard her mother say hoarsely, “Baby, is that you?”
Her tears stung even more painfully, but still she willed them away as she choked, “Yes.”
“Oh, my poor baby, you sound sad.”
Willlow started to cry. “Do you think I can ever make someone love me, Mom?” She closed her eyes. “Do you think I can ever make you love me?”
Charmaine’s heart ached. “I’m sorry, darling, but no.”
Willow cried harder.
“I’m sick, baby. I can’t ever love you, I can’t ever rebuild your hurting heart no matter how much I want to.”
“I’m just so tired, Mom. I don’t know how long I can last.”
“Just hang on, baby. One day, I know in my heart, you’ll find that person who can love you the way I can never do.”
Chapter Eight
“Free sex, Serenity, free—no, don’t cover your ears, you’re already nineteen, you should know about these things.” Willow pulled Serenity’s hands off her ears.
“Ms. Somerset, you are unbelievably pushy.” But her words lost its sting in the redness of her high-boned cheeks.
Despite her misery, Willow had to grin. “You’re unbelievably cute.”
From the opposite side of the room, Willem said dryly, “Ms. Somerset, will you kindly stop corrupting my intern? She is just nineteen.”
The three of them were in Willem’s private office in the east wing, which was luxuriously decorated in black leather and shades of brown. It was an intensely masculine room, and it was one of the few rooms in the palace that even the Queen of Contini herself dared not enter.
Two days had passed since Willow and Stavros had fucked on the deal. She had hoped by now she would be walking bow-legged or something because of too much sex, but no.
She slumped over her desk, asking morosely, “Tell me, Mr. de Konigh. Is it a matter of why pay for the milk when the cow’s giving it away for free?” And boy, did that have a double meaning now, thanks to Ingrid’s still-unforgotten insults.
The Dutch billionaire didn’t look up from his files as he said calmly, “I am not an expert on love, Ms. Somerset.”
“But whyyyyyyyyyyyyyy—”
Biting back an impatient sigh as it was clear his temporary employee wouldn’t be shutting up until she had an answer from him, Willem tossed his papers on his desk in resignation. “All right, Ms. Somerset. I’ll bite.”
Willow promptly shut up.
Leaning back against his seat, he said reflectively, “Since I’ve seen for myself how strongly he reacts whenever you’re concerned, it does seem strange that he wouldn’t take you up on your, err, generous offer.”
“Free sex,” she clarified.
Serenity covered her ears again.
“Yes, that. Only two things come to mind to explain his behavior.” Tapping his fingers on his desk, he said, “One, he’s ridden with guilt, feeling like he’s taking advantage of you—”
“Nix that,” Willow said. “He hates me. If he feels guilty about something, it’s probably that he didn’t do enough to make me suffer.”
“—or,” Willem continued, “he’s found, as you have put it, another source of milk.”
Willow burst to her feet. “Ingrid!” Her teeth gnashed. “That Dutch shit.” She started packing her things, hurriedly gathering her research papers and putting them back in her file case.
Serenity lowered her hands when she saw Willow packing up. “You’re leaving, Ms. Somerset?”
“Just thought I’d, umm, be able to concentrate more if I work from my room,” Willow mumbled.
“Going after a milkmaid,” Willem said at the same time.
Willow shot daggers at the billionaire. While she had no problems admitting all the wiles she had used to seduce Stavros, she had more than a huge problem admitting to wanting to get into a catfight with another woman. It just felt petty, and it was something she had never thought she’d be inclined to do.
Until now of course.
She mentally added another item to her growing list of grievances against Stavros. She planned to make him pay dearly for it once they were married and fucking happily ever after.
When she had everything back in her briefcase, she said awkwardly, “I’ll be off then.” She couldn’t quite meet their eyes as she hurried out of the room.
Fifteen minutes had passed when Serenity’s gaze fell upon Willow’s phone, which the older girl had left – and apparently forgotten – on the bookshelf directly behind their seats.
“She’s left her phone, Mr. de Konigh.” When she stood up to reach for it, pain shot up her leg, making Serenity wince.