The Billionaire's Virgin(21)

Xavier was standing before a huge fridge that looked even bigger than the ones in the shelter, frowning slightly as he reached in and took something out of it. A carton of milk. He gave her another grin as he put the carton on the white marble of the kitchen island. “Sit. I’ll get you a glass. I’m thinking you won’t want beer, since alcohol probably isn’t a good idea if you haven’t eaten.” Again, he didn’t wait for her to answer, pulling open one perfectly white cupboard and pulling out a tall glass. He set it before her and poured the milk. “Mrs. Thomas has definitely been. The milk is fresh and that’s usually a problem since I’m not here a lot. Which means . . .” He glanced at a huge hunk of shiny metal in the corner, which turned out to be the oven. “Ha. I was right.” Another of those brilliant smiles as he crossed over to the oven, tugging it open and getting something out. “Excellent. It’s still hot.”

A minute later and a plate of piping hot mac and cheese was sitting in front of her.

She blinked down at it, her stomach rumbling, still overwhelmed despite it all.

Xavier pushed a fork over in her direction. “Eat, Mia.”

Yes, eat. Forget the rest. You don’t know when you’ll get any food again.

Like a switch being flicked, her survival instincts kicked in, and she forgot about her surroundings, her shame, and even her wet clothes, grabbing the fork, digging in to the food. She took it slowly, knowing from experience that gorging herself on an empty stomach was a really bad idea, ignoring Xavier’s brilliant, interested gaze as he watched her.

He was saying something, but she paid no attention, concentrating on her food instead. His voice was like a beautiful counterpoint to the richness of the sauce, sound and taste blending into one delicious sensation she felt down the entire length of her body.

She wanted to eat it all day, every day, but she hadn’t even managed half of it when she had to stop, not used to the richness.

“Are you sure you’ve had enough?” he asked, eyeing her plate doubtfully as she pushed it away.

She nodded.

He frowned, as if not quiet believing her. Then shrugged. “Fine. You can have more if you’re hungry later.”

His gaze ran over her, assessing as she leaned against the counter, completely unable to speak, half stupefied with warmth and, for the first time in a long time, a full stomach.

“You up for that bath?”

Bath. Warm water. How long had it been since she’d had one of those? She was used to the quick five-minute shower in the shelter, which was barely enough time to wash her hair and the rest of her body. Certainly never enough time to luxuriate.

Wordlessly, she nodded again.

“Follow me then.” Xavier moved to the kitchen doorway and once again she had to force herself to move, walking slowly down the hallway after him, through another doorway and another short hall before he pushed open a door and stood aside for her to enter.

Another massive room with huge windows, this time their footsteps echoing off white tiles and yet more white marble. On a plinth in front of those windows stood a tub that looked big enough for at least five people.

Apparently he hadn’t been kidding when he’d said you could drown an elephant in it.

Briskly he moved over to the bath, fiddling with the taps until steaming water was running into the tub. He talked while he did this too, a wall of beautiful sound that surrounded her and somehow held her up because she felt like she was in danger of falling over.

She hadn’t done it often, but sometimes, when the loneliness got to her, she went to see one of the old men who sometimes shared the alley with her, accepting a few sips from their whisky bottles in return for listening to some of their old stories.

This felt like the feeling that would creep up on her then, the muzzy, warm sensation of being drunk. She’d hated it on the street, feeling the temptation of it pulling her, to escape her reality the way so many others did. But she knew that way led nowhere good, so she didn’t drink very often.

And she knew she shouldn’t give into it now.

But it was different, here in this place. Because it wasn’t alcohol that was making her feel this way, only food and warmth. Food and warmth that were temporary, only and ever temporary.

So? Take it while you can get it, idiot.

“You okay?” He was standing in front of her now, looking down at her, his beautiful face shadowed in the subdued lighting of the bathroom.

“Yes,” she said thickly. “I want my bath now.” Suddenly she couldn’t bear waiting any longer.

“It’s all ready for you. The door has a lock so you can lock it if you want. I promise I won’t come in.”