BILLIONAIRE (Part 6) (2 page)

Let
him stop me, I thought.  Let him beg me.  It would serve him right to stew for
a while if he was going to be stubborn and overbearing.  This whole topic of
was-I-going-to-be-his-assistant-or-wasn’t-I was getting a little tedious.  The
hard-working academic in me was excited about the challenge of working for one
of the most successful magazines in New York, learning the ins and outs of the
publishing industry in general, and getting to meet with and learn from top
writers and editors in the field.  The possessive female in me felt almost
panicked by the thought of not spending every waking hour with Alexander, who
felt like an extension of my own body and soul after the weeks of connectivity
we’d just shared.  I was in love with him to such an extent that it scared me. 
I was already so invested in this whirlwind romance that I knew he had the
power to shatter me into a million tiny pieces very easily.  Too easily.  My
comfort at the realization that he felt the same way wasn’t, come to think of
it, all that comforting, only because we were so new at this.  It was unchartered
territory for both of us.  I had no idea what the next day would bring, let
alone the next hour.  The air felt sparked with volatile energy.

If
he was going to string me along, or deny me, or restrict me for whatever
reason, then we could both play at that game.

I
let his terse command hang in the air, ignoring it as I put on some pink
lipstick.  Purposefully, I leaned towards the mirror, letting the tight fabric
of my very-short skirt frame my ass and ride up incrementally with my arching
movement.  Then I put on some mascara – makeup that had been bought for me in
Paris by Alexander, at ridiculous expense – and unbuttoned the top button of
the shirt I wore to spritz a spray of perfume onto my half-exposed breasts.  It
was a given at this point that I wore nothing underneath my clothes, even if I
now had a closetful of La Perla lingerie that could rival any heiress’s
collection.  At the time, I’d teased Alexander for buying me such useless
extravagances, especially when he always insisted I go without.  Now, I grabbed
my new Chanel handbag and turned towards him.  “Let me know what you decide,” I
said, heading towards the door of his bedroom.

Alexander
looked comically appalled.  Then his distress turned to fury.  He practically
dropped his laptop as he stood, striding over to me to block my path.  He
curled his fist around my arm, not painfully, but with undeniable force. 
“Lila,” he said softly.  “You’re not going out like that.”

“Like
what?”

“Like
… that,” he said, his grip tightening.

I
pulled my arm from his grasp and turned away from him.  “I
am
going out,
Alexander.  Let go of me.”

He
let his arms fall to his sides, but his aggressive stance did not ease. 
“Lila,” he said.  “Please.”  It was the mixture of protectiveness and
vulnerability in his eyes that softened my irritation.  He was afraid for me, I
could see it written across his expression.  He knew only too well, as I did,
about the dangers that lurked around dark, hidden corners.  “Come on,” he
whispered, half threat, half plead.  “Stay.”

I
touched his face.
 
“It’s only for a few hours.  I’ll be fine.  You said
it yourself: you want to work and you don’t need my assistance.  That’s cool. 
I get it.  I’ll see you when you’re finished answering your emails.  We can
talk about the rest of it tonight.”

His
grip returned to my arms, tightening.  Both his hands were on me now, manacled
around my upper arms.  He pulled me against him in a hug that was too strong. 
I could feel his power and his desperation in the flex of his muscles and the
beat of his heart.  “Don’t go,” he muttered under his breath, almost like it
was a thought he hadn’t meant to say out loud.  “Stay with me.”

As
much as I loved Alexander, and needed him, this full blown obsession of his was
closing in around me.  I could feel the heavy longing in him, for assurances I
couldn’t give: that nothing would threaten me outside his reach, that we could
and would give each other all that the other required, that everything would be
all right.  “You won’t even notice I’m gone.  You’ll be busy.  You’ll talk to
Jake and solve whatever problems have come up.  You’ll call me in a few hours
and tell me where to meet you.  Then we’ll be together again.” 

His
lips brushed against my hair as he held me close.  His hands were moving lower,
no less insistent, his grip very nearly painful.

“It’s
okay,” I murmured, to try to ease the fierce tension in him.  “Everything’s all
right.”

But
Alexander didn’t appear to be convinced.  “No,” he said again.  “You’re staying
here.  I can call Jake later.  I don’t want you out there, alone.  It isn’t
safe.”

“Alexander,
I’ll be fine.  Let me.  I want to.  You have to let me go.”

But
he was pulling up the hem of my skirt; admittedly, it was short enough that
this was hardly difficult to do.  But this overblown control, for the very
first time, felt constricting.  His palms slid possessively over the rounded
globes of my ass, pulling me against his big, hard body.  His fingers explored,
sliding into the damp hollow between my legs, finding the slippery heat. 
“You’re wet for me,” he whispered, and his breathing had grown heavier.  “You
want me.”

“Alexander,”
I protested.  I
was
wet.  As always, for him.  The minute I’d opened my
eyes to the black shine of his hair and the impressive, masculine contours of
his shoulders, I’d felt the stirring warmth, which was never hard to summon in
Alexander’s presence.  But I needed some space from his dictatorial commands. 
I was still angry with him for his increasing reluctance to let me into his
work arena, after all we’d been through, after the interview and the promises
and our brief but astoundingly intense history.  I knew he was trying to let me
down easy, that he was considering reassigning me to mistress or some such. 
That somewhere along the line his plans for me had changed.

I
felt my own control – over everything – slipping.  And I couldn’t breathe.

Stepping
back from him, I felt his knuckles slide over the lightly swollen nub of my
clit.  I gasped as I disengaged from him, pulling weakly at the hem of my
skirt.  I was confused and disarmed by the muddling swell of emotion.  This
should have been easy, this raging torrent of attraction.  But the deeper into
it we got, the more complicated it felt.  Mindless attraction was only the tip
of the iceberg.  Somewhere along the way, this relationship had begun to expand
into darker, swifter, more complex waters.  “Stop,” I said.

Alexander’s
face was heartbreaking to me.  He was equally hurt and angered by my refusal. 
I turned from him, to block out the sight of his sullen glory.  He was
unsettling me with his beauty.  I needed to distance myself from him, to not
break down or give in.  “I said I’m going out,” I told him.  “I need to be
alone for a while.  I’ll call you later, okay?”  I reached for the bag I’d
dropped somewhere in the middle of our tryst.

But
Alexander walked over to the door of his bedroom and closed it.  He leaned
against it, blocking my escape.  “And I said no, Lila.  There’s no need for you
to go out right now.  You can be alone all you want, here.  You can invite Eva
over for lunch one day.  Claude will cook you anything you want.  Anytime you
want.  Anything.”

My
heart was pounding riotously, with some crazy cocktail of rage, lust and fear. 
I knew he was controlling, I’d known it all along.  But I didn’t know the
extent of it.  How far would he go to stop me?

He
remained motionless, his eyes darker than I’d ever seen them.  I walked up to
him, standing in front of him.  But I didn’t touch him.  I wasn’t afraid of
violence.  I was afraid touching him would undermine my resolve.  I
knew
touching him would undermine my resolve.

“Alexander. 
What is this?  You can’t
keep
me here.  I’m free to go whenever and
wherever I want.  I’m not your goddamn prisoner!”

“Just
give me twenty minutes,” he said.  “That’s all I need to get my work done
today.  We’ll go down to the hot tub together.  Or out.  Whatever you want.”

“What
I
want
is for you to move away from that door and let me out!  I need to
spend some time alone.”  In fact, the feeling had passed.  I would rather have
agreed to his suggestions, but I felt too far into this now to retreat.  His
behavior wasn’t acceptable, that’s all there was to it.  “You can’t
force
me to stay holed up in this apartment and never leave.  Seriously, who does
that kind of thing?  You’re acting like some kind of psycho.  I mean it,
Alexander.”

Alexander
did not move from the door, but he reached to touch an end strand of my hair. 
He coiled a tangled curl.  “I’m not forcing you to do anything.  I’m asking you
to stay with me.”  With one finger, he touched my chin and tilted my face up to
his.  “Come on, Lila.  Don’t walk out on me.”  He didn’t sound like a psycho, I
had to admit.  His voice was soothingly deep, crooning to me like
I
was
the psycho, or some wild animal about to bolt.  “Stay with me, honey girl. 
I’ll do whatever you want.  Anything you ask.”

I
eyed him warily.  “
Any
thing?”

“Anything.”

“Let
me help you work.  I want you to let me start my job today.”

His
eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly.  There was a cautiousness in him that
confirmed all my suspicions before he even spoke.  “Yeah,” he said.  “About that.” 
Loaded pause.  “I was thinking that … after all that’s happened, and
considering the nature of our relationship, as it’s turned out, that maybe we
might want to … reevaluate your position.  The thing is, Lila, you don’t really
have
to work.  At all.  Not now.”

I
might have overreacted.  The rush of emotions and predictions and
confrontations set me off.  I glared up at him.  “You’re
firing
me?”

“No,
I’m not
firing
you.  I’m telling you that I –”

“That
you don’t want me to work for you anymore.”

“Only
because we’re in a relationship now, Lila.”

“We
were in a ‘relationship’ when you hired me in the first place, if I remember
correctly,” I said, hurt and angry that he would backtrack like this.  “I want
to work for you anyway.”

“I’m
just not sure if it’s a good idea.  Now.  I just think it might be best if we
keep this personal.  Instead of professional.”

I
was too irate to listen to this.  “Oh, that’s just
great
,” I seethed. 
“I get it.  Loud and clear.  You want to keep me locked up here in your bedroom
to
fuck
me whenever you feel like it.  If I’m actually
working
and doing something productive, engaging my mind, using my degree that cost the
fucking
earth
, I might be unavailable when you’re feeling horny.  Your
hard-on might go unaddressed for half an hour while I finish typing one of your
reports.  I might even have to
talk
to people, or God forbid, I might
have to leave this
fucking
apartment to engage with the wider world.  I
might even have to use my brain instead of just my body.  You’d just hate
that
,
wouldn’t you, Alexander?”

“Lila,
that’s not what I fucking meant.  I’m telling you that there’s no longer a need
for you to earn money.  I’ll take care of it.  I’ll take care of you.”

I’d
lost all semblance of self-control.  “What if I don’t
want
you to take
care of me?  What if I want to take care of
myself
?  What if
I
want to take care of
you
?  Did you ever think of
that
?”

He
looked a little stunned by my reply, like he hadn’t, in fact, thought of
anything like that before.

And
I was too furious to wait for his answer.  “
Fine
, Alexander.  Go ahead
and fire me.  If that’s what you really want to do, then go right ahead.  And
I’ll tell you what
I
really want to do: go
out
.  I’ve got some
job-hunting to do.  And some fresh air to breathe.  Now please get out of my
way so I can get started.”

“Lila,
for fuck’s sake –”

He
reached for my hand but I shook him off.  “And I’ve changed my mind about
dinner.  I don’t want to eat with you tonight.  I’m going out.  With friends.”

I
didn’t bother mentioning I only had one close friend and it was more than
likely she was working or had other plans.  Who knew?  I hadn’t even called her
in weeks.  She’d probably moved on and forgotten about me altogether.

Alexander
stood there, watching me.  He folded his arms across his chest in an aggressive
stance.  From the place where he’d dropped it by the window, his computer
pinged with a new email message alert.  “Go on,” I said.  “Answer your emails. 
Placate your underlings with your important advice.”

“Lila,
be reasonable.  There’s no need to get all fucking crazy on me.  I’m asking you
to let me take care of you, and to stay.  It’s hardly cruel and unusual
punishment.   We can talk about this.”

Damn
him with his low voice and thick black hair, curling gently around his ears,
flicking in uneven strands.  And his face, all beseeching and remorseful.  His
body, hard and gloriously sculpted, with his jeans slung low on his hips,
unbuttoned, revealing the tantalizing arrow line of dark hair.  But I denied my
urges.  There was something not at all right about the submission he demanded
of me.  I was trapped.  And now I was rendered useless, save for one purpose. 
It was clear that he wasn’t about to let me leave, whether I wanted to or not. 
He could mollify me with calm requests, but it wasn’t enough.  “Get out of my
way, Alexander.”