Sugar Daddy - Page 20

“You’re making me nervous.”

“I like watching you. I don’t think you realize that.”

“You barely know me.”

“It doesn’t take me long at all to realize what I like and what I dislike. Don’t worry, baby. You’re in the very good like.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re making me sound like a questionnaire.”

“You have no idea how pleased I am that I saw you on that website.”

Elizabeth paused, glancing over at him. “You are?”

“Yeah. I know a couple of men who use it, and they’re not worth your time. Believe me. They’re not the best fucking men alive. They’d screw you and pass you over for the next model.”

“Not you?”

“Not me. I like you, Elizabeth. Most of the time women are falling all over themselves to please me. You’re not like that. I enjoy talking to you.”

“I happen to like you, too.”

“Why didn’t you take the rose I gave you?” he asked.

She frowned.

“The first day we met I gave you a rose. You didn’t take it with you. Why not?”

“Oh,” she said. “I’m allergic to them. I love roses. I think they’re the most beautiful flower in the world, but I can’t have any. They bring me out in hives, and then there’s sneezing. Just the one, I’m okay with. I can handle one, but only for a short time. When you left I was sneezing, and I had to take some allergy medication.”

“Ah,” he said.

“It was a really beautiful rose, though. I know another woman picked it up, smiling.”

“I had no idea you’re allergic to roses.”

“To most flowers as well. It’s a good thing I don’t like gardening.”

He finished the soup, and she got up to leave.

“Come back. Stay with me.” He patted the bed beside him.

“I will. I want to clean this mess up.” She paused in the doorway and reached behind it, grabbing a metal mixing bowl she’d found. “Do you think you could use this to vomit in?” she asked. “It wasn’t that easy to clean the vomit out of the carpet.”

He groaned. “Crap, I totally threw everything up on you, right?”

“It wasn’t pretty. I noticed you don’t have anything I can do the laundry in. What do I do with it?”

“I have a cleaner who picks it up and does all that. I’ll make sure your clothes are cleaned. I promise.”

She chuckled. “I’m not worried about my clothes.”

“You’re a woman who knows how to take care of everything, don’t you?”

“I’ve been doing it a long time now.”

She didn’t stay to linger, and sure enough, ten minutes later as she was portioning the soup, she winced as he began to throw up again.

****

Three days later

Daniel still felt like death. The sickness had really knocked him down, but what surprised him was Elizabeth. She didn’t leave his apartment. She served him soup, helped him take a bath, dressed him, changed the sheets.

She was amazing, patient, and so damn sweet.

Not once did she complain about spending time with him, reading through his e-mails so that he could at least do some work. She answered his phone, took notes, and everything was completely in order.

The only time she’d left was to get some change of clothes. He didn’t mind her walking around naked, but he understood.

“How are you feeling today?” she asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“I’m doing much better. Are those pancakes?” he asked.

“I saw a box of premade mix that was getting close to its use by date. I figured why not. The syrup’s just heating up.”

She wore another shirt and a pair of jeans. He was starting to see a constant pattern here.

“Do you own any other style of clothes?” he asked.

“Nope. I’ve got different colors, though.” She shrugged. “Clothing has been an unnecessary luxury. These have lasted me for two years.”

“I like the way your ass looks in the jeans. Most of the time you hide that, though, with those hideously long shirts. Can’t you get something that shows your figure off?”

He saw a flash of hurt cross her face, and he cursed.

“I’m not complaining. You’re a sexy woman, and I like to see your curves on display.” He paused, thinking about all those young men she went to college with, and who she served at the coffee shop. “Forget it. I don’t want anyone else to see what I’ve got.”

“You go a mile a minute. It’s hard to keep up.”

“I don’t share very well. I like looking at you naked, and seeing your body, but I don’t want anyone else to see it. So scrap everything I’ve just told you. You’re mine.”

“I’ve got no interest in anyone else. I promise.” She flipped the last pancake, placing it on a plate, and he watched her drizzle some syrup. “Do you think your stomach can handle the calories?”

“I’m hoping so. If not, I can vomit right back into my trusty metal bowl.”

Tags: Sam Crescent Billionaire Romance
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