My Billionaire Stranger (18 page)

I get a little thrill hearing that he was miserable, how could I have been so off base this morning?

“Like I said I was distracted.” I twist in his arms to look into his handsome sculpted face. “My day was pretty close to perfect, I checked on things at home, visited my sister and my niece and nephew, went to work and then guess what?” I ask “What?” He pulls me tightly against him. “Then I was surprised with a million roses and the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“That sounds like one hell of a job you have there lady,” he says, tugging on my thick, wet braided hair.

“Mmmhmm the best.”

Chapter 23

I love lingerie, matching panties and bras, corsets and garter belts. I’ve never had a reason to wear anything like that other than for my own gratification. I generally just sleep in short shorts and tank tops though and leave the pretty stuff for under my clothes. When packing for this week I purposely brought ultra casual things to keep the temptation level down. Seriously though, at this point I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed. This is supposed to be a job damn it, I shouldn’t be sleeping in the same room with him wearing anything less than scrubs, when did this become so profound?

I dressed conservatively tonight at least, in a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top, very unsexy. Looking around my room, I grab a vase of roses, my bag and the box with the light fixture I made for Marcus. I should just move my things into his room permanently. I never sleep in here anyway but he’s given me this room for ‘privacy’ so my clothes hang in the closet and my makeup sits on the bathroom counter in the en suite bathroom. The latest gift in Marcus’s parade of generosity catches my eye as I leave the room and I set my bag on the bed to pick it up. It’s the softest teddy bear I’ve ever felt and it’s eyes… they look like diamonds,
real
diamonds. Oh surely they’re not, that would be ridiculously expensive, they’d have to be several carats for each eye. Smoothing out its fur I examine it further and find it also wears a diamond collar, six rows wide; cute it’s a
she.
The stitching is intricate; it’s obvious that it’s an expensive toy. But who gives a woman a teddy bear at my age, and why is she so important? I set her down and grab my bag, I’m giving Marcus his light, although not nearly as extravagant as several hundred roses, I made it with my own hands, and I want him to like it. I’ve been looking at Marcus lying in a bed for weeks, but he still takes my breath away. When I get to the door to his room I find him propped on a half dozen pillows pointing a remote at the T.V. He’s only wearing a pair of thin sleeping pants that sit low on his sexy as fuck hips, his hair is slicked back still wet from our shower and his beautifully defined chest is bare. I pause to admire the ultimate maleness that is Marcus Castillo. He pauses his channel surfing to watch something until he feels my stare.

“Enjoying the view nurse Imani?”

“As a matter of fact I am Mr. Castillo, very much so. I see you have pajama pants though, I thought you always slept naked.” I say pushing myself off of the doorjamb with my shoulder where I’ve been leaning. I move to set the heavy vase of flowers down.

“You thought I should wear something to bed, they are only here for you.” A coy smile on his lips he follows my movement across the room. “Well that was before we started…you know….”

“Oh, so
now
you want me naked do you?”

“Hey, is this new?” I gesture to the night table on my side of the bed purposely changing the subject. I’m sure he only had one table on his side before.

“Yes, I had a matching one delivered for you, to put your things on at night; you know, phone, iPad, lamp….” The simple yet thoughtful gesture tugs at my heart and the possible permanency of our relationship doesn’t go unnoticed. I’m only supposed to be here for a week after all. I don’t know why I keep trying to talk myself out of his motives; he’s planning on keeping me here forever. I know it, and honestly I love the idea but I can’t let myself think about a long-term relationship. Being with Marcus scares me as much as it thrills me. To be desired and possessed by a man that could also easily destroy me without even knowing it is such a complicated contradiction. I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’ve had no reason to be concerned recently; he’s been acting normal, or as normal as I know him to be so I accept the kind gesture by simply thanking him. I arrange my things on my new table and crawl to the center of his outrageously large bed and sit cross-legged facing him with my bag and box.

He eyes me curiously and asks, “What’s in the box?”

“Something I made for you, a while ago actually, while you were still in a coma.”

“You made it for me? How?”

“I’m into glass blowing, it’s a hobby I’ve done it for years.”  A glint of interest crosses his face.

“May I see it?” He nods toward the box and I carefully unpack the bubble wrap and remove the light fixture. His eyes widen and he smiles a sweet lopsided smile as he reaches out to touch it. He slides his fingers over the various points and swirls on the surface as he does with everything he touches. I’ve been noticing this unusual trait and I’ve decided that he must have picked it up spending so much time with his blind aunt Angelica. “You made this? For me?”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s a light, yes?” I’m actually impressed he recognized my intent, a lot of the time with glass sculpture the meaning is misinterpreted.

I smile, “Yes, I actually thought you might have a use for it somewhere, do you like it?” He looks at me with “duh” written all over his face. “Oh yes, I have just the place in mind, it’s beautiful Imani, I love it, thank you.”

“Ahh, manners, I knew you had some in there somewhere!!” I exclaim and he frowns.

“I have manners,” he says defensively.

“I think they must be coming back slowly then, that’s the first time you’ve said thank you without a prompt from me since you woke up.”

“I wondered where your smart mouth had gone, I use my manners when I deem them necessary, too much please and thank you in my business can lead to lack of respect and the appearance of weakness.”

“Really? I thought being polite earned respect and promoted strength and unity between people,” I retort.

“In some circumstances maybe, but running Dominus requires a strong hand.” His voice is laced with a chill I’m not comfortable with. “Tell me about Dominus.” It seems the root of his alter ego is related to that place so I figure I better get to know more about it.

“It’s unusual for an upscale restaurant to be part of a chain. An establishment of Dominus’s stature usually operates individually but I couldn’t pass on the opportunity to expand when people were practically throwing money at me to open more locations. The food was originally Italian and Greek but we serve all kinds of food now, specialties depend on the location. My first was in Italy. It was an instant hot spot; people came from all over the world for the food and entertainment. So, I decided to take the concept anywhere they would have me, which is now just about everywhere.”

“What makes it stand apart from similar places?” I ask.

“There are no similar places, there is no competition for Dominus, it’s unique, the food is exquisite, we have never a bad review and each location has an accompanying club which is the true draw.” He’s staring hard at me with narrowed eyes, analyzing my reaction to this information, he seems nervous and unsettled, which tips me off that there is more to this story…much more. “Uh…ok, what makes the club unique? Lots of restaurants have bars and clubs.” He’s silent for a few moments as he tries to find the right words to explain. Loud bells suddenly chime throughout the house, interrupting our conversation. “Is that a
doorbell
?” It sounds like church bells ringing on Christmas day, equally as garish as the fireplace. Marcus has a knack for going overboard with certain things and that doorbell is definitely one of them!

“Yes, Elijah is back and he’s bringing our food from Dominus, Mr. Black will let him in. Do you mind if he comes back here? I have some business to speak to him about and I’m comfortable, I don’t want to have to rearrange all of this again,” he says gesturing to the mess of pillows around him.

“Of course not, it’s your house, I’ll grab a robe, or I can go to my room if you need more privacy,”

“No, no, stay here, and yes, a robe… defiantly.” He rakes his eyes over my scantly clothed body, his jaw tight I know exactly what he’s thinking because I’m thinking it too. I really wish Elijah would just go away, for more reasons than one. I was just getting somewhere with the story of his business first of all, and secondly that look he just gave me ignited a fire in my body that needs extinguishing and he is the only man to do it.

My bag still in my lap, I pull out a thin full-length red silk robe and slip it on while Marcus watches nodding his approval. I guess I’m covered enough for his liking. Elijah strolls in, holding a very large box of pizza and pauses, surprised to see sitting in Marcus’s bed. “I’m sorry Sir, Mr. Black didn’t say…he never mentioned,” he stammers.

“It’s all right Elijah, I told him it was ok, you remember Imani don’t you?”

“Of course, good to see you again Ms. Jefferson.” He makes an attempt to recover from his shock by moving into the room and averting his eyes away from me.

“Call me Imani please. It’s nice to see you too Elijah, how was your trip?” I ask.

“Fine thank you.” He says his eyes on Marcus and only Marcus he holds the box up slightly as if to ask where he should put it. “Just here on the bed,” Marcus responds, and Elijah hesitates again.

“You want it on the bed?”

“Yes, Elijah. On the bed,” He repeats with irritation. I’m thinking this must be out of character for the old Marcus. Elijah seems to have really known him inside out, and I feel a little sorry for him being in uncharted waters. But he follows orders like a perfect employee and sets the box on the bed.

“Choose a movie, I will be just a few minutes with Elijah,” Elijah pulls up a chair and produces a laptop. I scoot off the bed and set my bag on a chair remembering to remove the vase that’s wrapped in my clothes. The roses I brought in here won’t work in it, so I pad next door to my room to choose another bouquet with shorter stems. That damn bear is still siting there staring at me like she has a secret she never plans on sharing. I huff back to Marcus’s room with a handful of flowers and arrange them in the vase Dax made. When I’m finished I set them on a small table that is arranged into a sitting area by the window. The two of them hover over the laptop discussing flow charts and graphs, and shipping problems. I tune out the conversation until I hear them briefly mention that they were letting someone go, a woman I think, they don’t expand on the details of her wrongdoing but I worry for her just the same. I grab the remote and manage to locate his movie collection that includes a wide variety of genres; there’s no way to learn his taste in movies from this list. Many of them are in other languages, and I wonder how many he speaks fluently. With business on every continent, I suppose he speaks several. I have no idea what to choose; I really don’t care what we watch. I don’t plan on seeing any of it anyway, my itinerary for the evening includes filling up on gourmet pizza and getting very, very naked with my patient. My patient, the thought of him as my employer still nags at me; I am doing nothing a professional nurse would do for a patient. I feel more like a paid girlfriend…. which is essentially a prostitute. I’m going to have to make a change in this arrangement immediately if I plan on keeping any dignity or self-respect. I must have myself removed from his bankroll and go back to the ICU or at the very least demand some real responsibilities. Something more than accepting outlandish gifts and passing him a sleeping pill every night.

Elijah stands to leave as I return to bed with no idea of what movie to watch…or not to watch. Elijah glances at Marcus and then at me and back to Marcus. Marcus nods his head. “It will be fine Elijah you can give it to me.” Elijah retrieves something from a bag at his feet. At first I think it’s a vase of some sort but then the realization that its an urn hits me square between the eyes. What the fuck is Elijah doing with an urn? And why is he giving it to Marcus? Elijah hands the urn over and quickly exits the room, leaving us alone in an awkward silence; me staring at him wide eyed and mouth hanging open. He holds it in both hands caressing his thumbs across what I assume is the name of the person inside.

After a moment adrift, he looks up at me as if he just remembered I was there.

“Ahh… who’s is that?”

“Megan,” he answers flatly.

“The women that was in the accident with you?” Why does he have her ashes instead of her family?

“Yes.”

“Was she…special to you?” I am so curious about his past and finally I’ve been given the perfect opportunity to uncover something, Elijah gave him the urn right in front of me after all so technically I’m not prying. “No, it’s very complicated.” I move to his side of the bed and perch there next to his legs. “I’d like to know.”

“Why?”

“Because Marcus I’m sleeping with you, practically living in your home and I know next to nothing about you.”

He sighs deeply, “I’ll tell you about her but after I do, no more discussing it.”

“Ok… fine.” My heart picks up the tempo as I wonder if I really want to hear this after all.

“When I was in college I found her, she was a dirty little girl, 10 years old, homeless, hungry, and alone.” He’s staring at the urn, turning it in his hands while he tells me her story. “I don’t know what it was about her, she was crouched next to a dumpster outside a coffee shop I frequented, I’d seen her there for several days when I finally spoke to her. I know how it feels to be alone and hungry with no one to depend on. I learned that she had been in foster care after being abused by her biological parents and then the parents the government assigned to did the same. I took her home with me. I was well off living on the money my Aunt Angelica left me, and I wanted to help her, something in her eyes reminded me of myself. I home schooled her, it was easy to do online. She was smart; I paid for her to go to college. After she was eighteen it didn’t matter if she lived with me, she was an adult and foster care wasn’t interested anymore. She worked hard, never complained, she was always grateful for my help, stayed out of trouble. When she turned 22 she wanted to support herself. I had recently opened Dominus here in Seattle; she worked as a server all through college and made a hell of a living while she looked for a career in business. My customers have money to throw away and they tipped her outrageously, she was beautiful, proficient at her job and it didn't hurt that they thought she was related to me. The money she earned brought her freedom and soon without school to focus on she started going out all the time after work, hooking up with a bad crowd, drinking, drugs and the whole fucking loser scene I’d worked to keep her out of all those years. She befriended a few of the strippers who work in the club at Dominus and started learning routines, stripping, and behind my back she began working in the club. I hired her as a waitress not a fucking stripper slut.. I was livid; I thought I was going to kill her, along with the manager at the time for letting her do it. Needless to say, that manager is no longer with us.”