Gone to check on Charlotte. Drink lots of water. Jacuzzi would be a good follow-up to the massage. Be back later.
More orders, he thought, lifting his eyebrows. Few women had tried to give him orders. Those who had hadn't lasted long. At the moment, though, he couldn't help feeling indulgent. Bella had taken him to a new level of relaxation. He would take them both to a new level of sexual pleasure.
He decided to follow her suggestion for a dip in the Jacuzzi. But first he should check his BlackBerry for messages. He picked up his phone from the nightstand, noting that she'd turned it off. Only he controlled his phone. He would warn her later.
Turning it on, he saw a text message from his private investigator and immediately called him.
"Sam Carson," the man said his name. "Is this Mr. Medici?"
"Yes. You have news."
"Yes, but you aren't going to like it."
Michael's gut twisted. "What is it? Did you find his body?"
Carson sighed. "That would have been easier than what I have to tell you."
Eight
M ichael's house was dark when Bella let herself in just before nine o'clock. Normally she would have expected one of his staff to greet her, but this time all she heard was silence. Was he still asleep from the massage she'd given him?
Turning on a light, she walked through the hallway to the kitchen and glimpsed a flicker of light coming from the den. The gas fireplace provided the only light in the room. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. She saw him sitting in a chair holding a squat glass half-full of liquid. Probably some kind of liquor that cost a hundred dollars an ounce.She met his gaze and glimpsed a turbulence in his gaze. Something had happened since she'd left. "What's wrong?" she asked, moving toward him.
"Nothing I want to discuss," he said and took a sip of his drink. "Do you want anything to drink?"
She lifted her bottle of water. "I'm good."
"Yes, you are," he said, seduction glinting in his eyes.
Uncertain of his mood, she stopped a few steps before him. "Are you okay?"
"I am," he said, but his words belied her instincts.
"You really should still be drinking water," she said. "Did you get into the Jacuzzi?"
"No more orders today, Bella. And no, I didn't get into the hot tub. Come here."
She moved closer, still hesitant. He extended his hand and she accepted it. He pulled her into his lap, his gaze pinning hers. "Don't ever, ever turn off my Blackberry without my permission."
She blinked. "You missed an important call," she said. "I'm sorry," she said. "Kinda," she added. "Kinda not. You needed to relax."
"That's not your decision to make."
"Okay. I don't suppose you want to tell me about the call," she ventured.
"You supposed correctly."
"But I can tell you've got something on your mind. Something is bothering you," she said.
He set his glass on the table beside him and pulled her mouth to his. "Give me something else to think about."
His mouth devoured hers while his hands slid over her, immediately making her hot. She sensed a dark desperation beneath the surface, but she wasn't sure what it was. He distracted her from dwelling on it with the speed and intensity of his lovemaking. Before she knew it, her clothes had been discarded and so had his.
On the floor in front of the fireplace, he took her entire body with his hands and his mouth. His gaze holding hers with the firelight dancing over his skin, he thrust inside her.
Bella gasped at the feeling of possession. With each stroke, she felt utterly and completely consumed, falling under some kind of spell he cast over her. It couldn't be love, she told herself. Love was gentle and sweet and this was nothing like that. This was compelling and powerful, but complicated. And temporary.
Temporary, she repeated to herself like a mantra. Temporary. But it was hard to convince herself of that when she'd never had a man make love to her with such power as Michael. Their arrangement had been about sex, but something else was happening between them.
The next morning, Bella awakened in Michael's bed. As usual, he was gone. Exercising, she guessed and crept out of bed. She pulled on a robe from his closet and walked down the hallway to his small, well-equipped gym. The door was open and she spotted him on the elliptical, moving at a fast pace, his arms gleaming with perspiration. His gaze fixed forward, he looked as if he were racing against the devil. It occurred to her for all Michael's ability to make ruthless business decisions and his tendency to avoid emotional interaction, he had his demons. The strangest, craziest desire to rid him of those demons sprang inside her.Insane, she thought. As if she had the power to help him. As if he would even want her help.
Bella didn't have time to dwell on her conflicted feelings for Michael. Her aunt's spa opened, and she and her aunt were busy accommodating the surge of customers."You have to hire more people," Bella said to Charlotte after the first week. "It's part of your agreement with Michael."
"I know, I know," Charlotte said as she sank into a chair. "I just didn't dream we'd get this kind of response. Michael was right about creating miniservices that give people a taste of luxury without spending too much."
"And we've sold several discount packages for pedicures and massages," Bella added, and gave Charlotte a glass of iced green tea. "So, when are you going to hire new staff?"
"I'll talk to Michael to confirm. I don't want to mess up this time," she said. "I don't want to overhire either."
"But you also don't want to overtire," Bella said.
"Hear, hear," a male voice said from the doorway. Fred, a man in his fifties who worked at the computer store down the street, popped in daily for a visit.
Charlotte perked up. "I thought the sign on the door said closed," she teased.
"Not for your best customer," Fred said with a twinkle in his eye.
"Customer," Charlotte said. "You haven't spent a dime on any services here. You just show up after work and drink my coffee and waste my time."
Bella smiled at the dynamics between them. Charlotte might not admit it, but she clearly enjoyed Fred's attention.
"Then how about if I change that?" he asked. "Can I take an overworked owner manager to dinner tonight in Buckhead?"
Charlotte blinked, clearly speechless. "Uh, well." She cleared her throat. "That's very nice of you, but I still have a lot of work to do. Go over the day's bookkeeping and supplies."
"I can do that," Bella offered.
Charlotte glared at her. "Don't you have plans with Michael?"
"No. He's actually out of town," she said. Michael had been out of town most of the week. She'd spent her nights feeling alternately full of relief and missing him. The latter had surprised her. After all, wasn't their relationship just supposed to be physical?
"Well, I don't know," Charlotte said, still reluctant.
"I did have a question about a couple of the products we're using. They're in the supply closet," Bella said then glanced at Fred. "Could you excuse us for a moment? We'll be right back."
Bella took her aunt's hand and led her to the walk-in supply closet and closed the door. "Why won't you go to dinner with him? It's obvious that he likes you," she whispered.
"I have too much work to do," Charlotte protested. "Plus, he didn't give me any notice. Just wandered in here and assumed I'd be willing to go." She ran her fingers through her hair nervously. Although her hair was still short, her aunt looked stylish and attractive. "It's probably just a pity request."
"Pity request," Bella said with a snort. "Is that why he stops in here every afternoon and sometimes at lunch?"
"Maybe he just likes the free coffee and cookies," Charlotte said.
"That's why he wants to take you some place really nice," Bella said, rolling her eyes. "Because he wants to pay you back for coffee and cookies."
"Why are you pushing me?"
"Because I think you like him and maybe he would be good to you. You deserve to have someone who is good to you."
Charlotte sighed. "I just don't know. I'd given up on anything with a man."
"Maybe you gave up too soon," Bella said.
Charlotte tapped her fingernails on a shelf. "You really think I should go?"
"Yes!"
She frowned, studying Bella for a long moment. "How are you and Michael doing? You don't say very much about him."