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Pawn of the Billionaire(25)

By:Kristin Frasier & Abigail Moore




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Later that night, I saw her up to her room. She looked exhausted, and I reluctantly thought I’d have to put aside any thoughts of fucking her again. My body didn’t care, I was on full charm offensive and I could see she was aroused, in the sparkle of her eyes and the faint flush along her cheeks. We stood in the hallway a moment when I’d opened the door for her, and she looked up at me with a luminous gaze and bit her lip slightly.

“Will you come in for moment?”

“Thank you.” I inclined my head and followed her in. Then she saw her things. She didn’t have much, the room was still bare to my eyes. But what she did have had been brought over from her accommodation and arranged on the shelves and table. The smile dropped off her face and she marched through to the bedroom, and I listened to the slamming of drawers and cupboard doors.

When she stepped back into view, I saw her lips were compressed and there were angry red spots on her cheeks.

“All my things. All of them. Someone’s been to my home and brought back all my things.” She came up close to me. God, she was magnificent. Edward would crap himself when she did that to him.

I didn’t.

“Yes. I expect you heard me on the phone to Lawrence, arranging the collection of your things so that you could stay here from tonight.”

“No. Arranging a collection time for me to go over and get them,” she insisted.

I shook my head. “No. There was no need for you ever to go back there. Toni,” I caught her elbow as she turned away. “This is something you’ve committed to, to having a staff presence in your life.” I turned her towards me.

“This is how you will be living now. The staff here are utterly discreet, you can trust them absolutely. But they are here. All the time, when needed. And you have to get used to it.”

She stared at me, her eyes narrowed. It took a couple of minutes, but eventually her eyes dropped. “So I’ll have to get used to it. I don’t have to like it.” She took a step towards the door. “Thank you for seeing me up here. Goodnight.”

And with those words, she stepped through to her bedroom and shut the door.



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The next morning, I sat over breakfast reading the Times. All the broadsheets from London were taken in for breakfast each day. I liked the real newspapers, they reminded me of long-ago holidays at home, my father muttering about various news stories, my mother replying gently, a smile on her face, as she managed her husband and children in such a way that we — I, too — hadn’t had an inkling what she was doing.

I smiled as I rustled the papers. Toni would be magnificent in that role, I just knew it. Then the smile was wiped off my face. I saw Edward would be sitting at the table with her, not me.

I scowled and threw the paper down. I couldn’t let her go. Could I? I’d spent a restless night thinking of her alone in her room, angry at the invasion of her privacy as she saw it. I’d wanted her, wanted to spend last night with her body curled up in my embrace, and I hadn’t been able to, because I’d made her angry.

She had a lot to learn, and I knew I couldn’t go too far, too fast. But on the other hand, I had to move fast enough that she changed soon, changed so completely that she couldn’t ever go back and reject the future that I had planned for her.

I had to forget that the future didn’t involve her being here with me, but in England. At least I knew that when she’d be there, she’d be safe and comfortable.

I smiled. But until then I had her here, with me. Until I tired of her, and I always did tire of them. I knew that then it wouldn’t hurt, giving her up. I just had to stop thinking of the future and enjoy the now.

Then she was there, standing beside the table, looking rather unsure of herself.

I smiled up at her. “Good morning, Toni. Have a seat. I’m afraid I start breakfast early on a work day.”

“Good morning,” she said as she perched on a chair, looking over the table. I folded up the papers.

“Make yourself at home, Toni. If you’d like anything cooked, David will arrange that for you. All the other stuff is over on the sideboard,” and I waved a hand over to the side of the room.

David moved forward, and bent slightly. “Tea or coffee, madam?”

She jumped. “Oh. Tea, please.” She cast me a nervous glance. “Would I be able to have a bacon sandwich? Is that allowed?”

I looked over at her. “Maybe that should be an occasional treat, Toni. It’s not very ladylike.”

She sighed, “I suppose so.” Then she smiled and turned to David. “May I have bacon and egg, please? With mushrooms?”