Serving HIM Vol. 4: Alpha Billionaire Romance (7 page)

I froze.

“Aleena?”

It wasn’t Dominic.

Clearing my throat, I said, “Ah…one moment.” It didn’t sound great, but it also didn’t sound like I’d just been freaking out, so that was good.

I moved to the sink and turned on the water. It wasn’t until I straightened that I saw her reflection in the mirror. It was Annette Shale. With water dripping off my face, I gaped at her.

“Hi.” She managed a strained smile. “I…well, damn, girl. I was in the area for an auction, picking up a few pieces for a client, and I heard you and Dominic were down here.”

She sighed and moved forward, tugging a soft towel from a rod just a foot away. While I continued to stare at her, she shoved it under the water and then twisted the excess out before moving to stand in front of me. “If Dr. Annette can offer some advice?” she said softly. “What you need is ice cream and a good, long talk with a girlfriend.”

“Um…” Great. I’d hoped it wasn’t that obvious.

She held out the towel. “Since it’s the middle of the day and I know what a pain in the ass Dominic can be to work for, you’ll have to settle for this and a few ibuprofen. Take this. I’ll grab the ibuprofen and meet you at your desk in a moment.”

A moment was probably all I had, so I made the most of it, pressing the towel to my face and letting it cool my heated flesh. Whether it would do much for my puffy eyes, I had no idea.

Slipping out of the restroom a few minutes later, I found Annette seated in the chair Miriam had occupied. When she saw me, she rose and held out a white bottle.

I smiled weakly.

“Please tell me it’s not Dominic,” she said, her voice soft.

My gaze flew to hers. “You…he…”

“No.” Her eyes widened and she laughed. “Oh, honey, no! That boy is almost ten years younger than I am. Plus, I’m...well...let’s just say that my marriage wasn’t one based on sex.” She waved a hand, making it clear that wasn’t part of the discussion. “You’ve been living with him a while and you don’t strike me as a fool.”

I went red.

Annette smiled and I saw the knowledge in her eyes. It wasn’t snide or condescending. She just
knew
. “Dominic is a beautiful man, Aleena.” She paused and then added with a partial smile, “I’m asexual, not blind.”

I fiddled with the lid on the painkillers, unsure of what to say.

Annette reached out and took the bottle, twisting it open and spilling two into her palm. When she held them out, I accepted and moved to the water I’d poured myself earlier.

“If you two aren’t…” I stopped, unsure how to proceed.

There was a strained, almost painful silence. I looked up when I heard her moving, her heels muffled by the plush carpet. Her red hair was pulled back in an elegant chignon, a scarf draped carelessly around her neck. She wore a silk jacket of bright purple over a white t-shirt and jeans. She looked beautiful and sexy and casual and confident. Everything I wasn’t.

And her eyes were kind.

She held out a hand.

Slowly, I accepted.

“We
aren’t
, and never were,” she said, squeezing my fingers. “Trust me. But Dominic…that man and commitment? They don’t exist. Now, he’s a good man. He really is, but…” A door opened and she lapsed into silence for a moment before she sighed and spoke again, “Look, I was calling to see if you wanted to join me for lunch. We could go over some things for the penthouse and I had a few ideas for the main house, too. But fuck that. We can…”

“Annette, hello.”

We both looked up to see Dominic standing in the doorway to his office, Miriam Beckman at his side.

Dominic glanced at me then back to Annette. But his gaze came right back to me, eyes narrowing slightly. He opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped himself, shaking his head.

Instead, he looked at Miriam. “Miri, it was a pleasure. I hope to hear from you soon.”

“You will.” She nodded at him, and the smile on her face told me that Dominic had won.

He usually did.

She smiled at me, but the smile faltered. “Are you well, Ms. Davison?”

“I’m fine. My…ah…contact slipped.” I lied. I didn’t wear them.

She rolled her eyes and grimaced in sympathy. “Get the surgery. I had it ten years ago. Best decision of my life.” She held out a hand and we shook. “I’ll be seeing you shortly.”

Then she left the three of us alone.

“I take it the meeting went well,” I said, moving to my desk without looking at Dominic.

“It did. Annette, how are you?” Dominic asked. The question was more rote than anything else. He was staring at me the entire time. I could feel it, but I didn’t look up.

“Much better, thank you. I’m sorry to hold things up for you. I heard you two were in town and I came to kidnap Aleena for lunch, try to get caught up. Is that okay?”

I bent to get my purse from the cabinet. “Sounds grea—”

“No. Aleena and I already have lunch plans.”

Chapter 7

Dominic

Aleena stared listlessly at her desk as I walked Annette to the door.

When I turned back to study her, she didn’t look up. She just sat there moving things around her desk, checking her phone, tapping at it, then putting it down. Then she started the cycle all over again. Moving the leather-bound agenda she carried everywhere. A file folder—it went back to the position it had been in sixty seconds ago.

“Enough!” I snapped when she picked up her phone the third time.

She flinched.

Then, slowly, she lowered the phone and lifted her head, staring at me for the first time since I’d come out of my office.

Her soft, pretty green eyes were dull, red-rimmed and puffy. Had she been crying?

“Aleena, what—”

The knock on the door came at the worst time and I might have just taken the head off the bastard behind it. Fortunately, I remembered at the last moment that I’d ordered lunch for us. I’d wanted to make sure she ate. I didn’t think she’d been eating. She looked thinner. But I also wanted to spend some time with her. I wanted to just…

I missed her.

It hit me hard in the gut.

I
missed
her.

Not sex. Or, not only sex. I missed
her
.

I stood to the side as two men pushed in carts laden with trays. They were followed by several more men, carrying a tablecloth, a silver bucket filled with ice, bottles of wine. Everything I needed to make a perfect, romantic meal.

Aleena had risen and moved to stand by the bank of windows and she watched in silence as they set up the elegant meal I’d ordered while I waited for my interview with Miri.

Once they were gone, she glanced at me. Her eyes were no longer dull. They were frozen.

Just as cold as her words. “Of course, we’re having lunch in. I’d planned on going out, but…well. Fuck that idea.”

She moved to the table and before I could make myself move, she pulled out a chair and sat down.

Something’s not right
. That thought danced through my mind. No shit. She never swore at work. If nothing else, that was a clear indication that she was upset.

Aleena gave me a sharp-edged smile. “Let’s eat, Mr. Snow.”

Shit. She was seriously pissed.

There were a few things I’d decided over the past ten days. Ten days since I’d held her against me, had her under me, felt her body vibrate as she moaned and came around me. I could count each one of them, could probably detail every last second of them, because too many seconds ticked away without her in my arms.

But those things I’d decided?

They were short and they were simple.

I missed her.

There were things in my life that were expected of me. Up until recently, I hadn’t thought much of them. I’d just accepted them.

It was like the sky was blue, even when the clouds hid it.

The sun would rise.

I was rich.

And it was expected that I would marry or at least cohabitate with a socially acceptable female. Gotta carry on the family name somehow, right?

But…I didn’t want to.

A socially acceptable female was somebody like Penelope Harrington, and if I had to come home to that bitch even one night, I knew I’d walk in front of a speeding SUV with my arms spread out. I’d welcome the ugly, messy death, because at least that would be fast. Any sort of life with Penelope would be a slow, miserable death. She would suck every bit of me out, and I don’t mean in the hot and sexy way that involved her mouth and any kind of pleasure on my part
or
hers.

Socially acceptable. Duty. Expectation.

Those lay in one direction and I knew it.

The woman in front of me was something else entirely, and I was starting to realize that she was the last sort of woman I needed in my life. But she might also be the only woman who ever mattered.

She wouldn’t stand calmly and aloofly at my side as I discussed my next business deal. When cutting remarks were made about class or race among those in my social circle, as they often were, Aleena would cut back. And she’d make damn sure everybody in listening distance heard just how idiotic and shallow they all came across.

Now, she sat across the table from me in silence, twisting her fork in the pasta I’d ordered for lunch, her eyes meeting mine with cool defiance. The one thing I wanted more than anything was to knock the whole fucking table out of the way and grab her, shove her skirt up and pull her down on my cock.

She was mine.

With a clarity unlike anything I’d ever known, I knew that one thing.

Aleena was mine.

It took all the patience I had to eat maybe half of the food on my plate. Then I leaned back and sipped from the wine I’d selected. She wouldn’t choose. I’d brought in four different wine selections, all vintages I knew she liked, but she had just shrugged them off and refused to show any interest, so I went with the one I thought she’d enjoyed the most.

She’d had maybe three sips.

She’d eaten four bites of pasta and pushed the food around.

Finally, she put the fork down and stopped even pretending to eat, leveling me a look that should have pissed me off. If she had been anybody other than who she was, I would’ve been hard-pressed to keep my temper.

If I had to put a caption on that look, it would’ve been simple:
Bite Me
.

I was tempted to do just that.

“I’ve been thinking…” I put the glass of wine down and tossed my napkin beside it.

Aleena lifted a brow. Her voice was coolly professional. “Should I get my planner?”

“No.” I wouldn’t rise to the bait. There was no reason. “This isn’t related to business. It’s personal.”

“Oh, really?”

Aleena’s eyes narrowed as she studied me. The moment stretched out and I felt like a microbe caught between slides, examined by her. Refusing to let her get under my skin, I hooked one ankle over my knee and gave her a cocky smile. “We never have really talked about…us.”

I expected a reaction from that.

The good thing about expectations? If you have them, they are almost always met.

The bad thing? They are rarely met in the way you hoped.

Aleena stared at me for a long minute, and then she shook her head and started to laugh.

That laugh echoed. Through the silence of the office, off the walls and back to my ears. It echoed and rang and the only way I was able to sit there and not react was because I’d had too many fucking years of
not
reacting, of not allowing myself the luxury of reacting.

But it was an effort.

That laugh was jagged and harsh, full of mockery and misery and loathing. But I couldn’t tell who it was directed at. Herself…or me.

“Us?” she finally said. Aleena leaned forward and grabbed the glass of wine that had been put in front of her nearly thirty minutes earlier. She drank half of it and then put the glass down.

“
Us
?” she repeated, staring at me with speculation. “Exactly what
us
do you mean, Dominic? There
is
no us.”

“Of course there is,” I snapped.

She surged upright then, moving with such speed that she sent the wine glass flying. Drops of ruby red splattered on the floor, but she didn’t even look. Her pale green eyes locked on mine and she sneered at me. “
Us
? Oh, bite me, Dominic. The only
us
that exists is the
us
that suits you. You want me in your fucking bed—excuse the pun there. That’s
it
. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like a
real
break before we get back to the interviews—”

She’d delivered those words as she strode to the door, the final words said over her shoulder. Before she could open the door, I slammed my hand against it.

She turned and glared at me. “Do you
mind
?”

“Yes.” Then I jerked her up against me and slanted my mouth over hers.

She didn’t respond.

Just then, I didn’t care. I would make her react. I knew she wanted me.

She went to shove me away and I caught her wrists, dragged them over her head, my lips forcing hers apart. When I traced my tongue along her bottom lip, she shuddered.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” I whispered against her mouth. Slowly, I lifted my head and stared down into her eyes.

She was panting, her breath coming in hard, labored gasps. I could feel each ragged, unsteady rise and fall. I could feel her nipples, even through the layers of her bra and blouse, through my own clothes. Still watching her, I lifted a hand and cupped her breast, peering into her eyes as I circled the swollen peak with my thumb. “You don’t want this?”

“You son of a bitch,” she said, her voice rough. “You know I do.”

I caught the hem of her skirt and dragged it up.

She wore stockings, the kind that ended high on her thigh. I toyed with the wide band of lace, traced the edge with my fingers before I caught the thin strip of cotton that covered her crotch. A miserable excuse for panties. A woman like her should be wearing silk and lace. She whimpered as I ran my finger across the damp material. Tugging it out of the way, I bent my head and whispered into her ear, “Unzip me, Aleena.”