Being so close to him so much, I had come to realize, confused me, both emotionally and mentally--for example, what just happened in the bathroom. Was it truly love I had for James, or was it simply an infatuation, as Andy had put it? I had no idea, and I knew it'd get worse the more time I spent with James and the more I got to know him.
I headed over to the walk-in wardrobe while my brain speculated how I should begin the conversation when James was out of the shower. Clutching the towel wrapped around me, I searched my section for underwear. First, I found a pair of lacy panties in black and pink and then a silk and lace tank top. The panties fit me perfectly, but the shirt was a little too big on me, making the thin strap fall down my slender shoulder. I shrugged since it was only an undergarment. After a bit more searching, finally I found a suitable sleeping garment to wear. A long, loose T-shirt and a pair of shorts. I put these on and then headed back into the bedroom.
I was just getting into bed when James came out from the bathroom with nothing on but a small towel wrapped about his waist.
I simply stared at him, at the exquisite man before me, his dark hair wet and his toned, muscular body smooth and dripping wet. He was gorgeously hot, and my tummy tingled deliciously in response. I cleared my throat as he grinned at me.
He rested himself against the doorframe as I flicked my eyes away from his handsome form. I knew the more I looked at him, the more I'd drown into those beautiful Prussian-blue eyes of his and the more I'd want him to do those wonderfully exquisite sexy things to me. I didn't want that right now. Not when I needed to keep my head clear. When I wanted to talk to him about our master and mistress relationship, about how that was going to work when I was going to be living so far away.
Was he going to make a once in a blue moon trip to Mystic Spring to visit me? Was I only going to see him once every few months? The thought that was likely to happen made me feel sick to my stomach. I didn't want to have to be so far away from James. I knew it was silly to fall in love with a guy I'd only just met. But that was how it was. I'd fallen for James Maxwell, a billionaire elite who ruled the underground business world.
No. No. It wasn't love I felt for him. It was simply an infatuation. Yes, an infatuation.
A lump formed in my throat once again, as I knew I was a stupid girl. I'd put myself deeper into danger by getting myself emotionally involved with James. Just because he was nice to me, took care of me, and saved my brother's life didn't mean he'd return my many feelings for him.
As I gazed at him now, so relaxed and grinning at me, I knew there was only one way to keep myself--physically, mentally, and emotionally--safe and sane. I needed to return to Mystic Spring and be as far away from James as possible. It'd be hard at first, but I knew it was for the best. I knew I'd forget about him sooner or later. Then when he made the occasional visit, we'd have wild, passionate sex, but I'd do my best to keep my emotions at bay. I knew that was the only way. And I knew I could do it.
I licked my lips, my heart racing as I pushed myself to utter the words. Then, of course, no words came, and I cursed myself, my face flushed.
"What's the problem, honey? Cat got your tongue?" He teased.
Slow down, heart, I said internally. I licked my lips again and then said, "James?"
"Hmm?" He came over to my side of the bed. There, he cupped my face while his thumb gently caressed my cheek. His touch was so warm, and I didn't want him to let me go.
"I..." I bit my lower lip as I stared at his six-pack abs. God! He had amazing abs. Instantly, I wanted to run my fingers along this body, stroking him, touching him, and caressing him like he did me.
No. No. No. Stop it. Keep your head clear.
I flicked my gaze to his face and regretted it instantly. His Prussian-blue eyes were so beautiful they took my breath away. He was indeed an exquisite specimen.
This was not good. Why did I keep thinking about how handsome James was and wanting him to make love to me?
I was pissed with myself. I needed to keep a good distance between us. I needed to be logical.
I brushed his hand away, moved out of the bed, and went to stand on the other side. I clutched the material of my sleep shirt and said, "James."
"Hmm?" he replied.
When I looked at him, I saw he had a scowl on his face. I wasn't surprised. I'd just brushed him off. I thought I might have pissed him off a little. I decided it was a good thing.
"James, I have to return to Mystic Spring."
He was quiet for a moment. Then he cocked his head. "Why?"
My mouth nearly dropped open at his blunt query.
I sighed. "You know why. I have a job to go back to."
"Mia," he said, his voice clam and cool. "This is your job now."
Yes, I knew being his mistress was my job now. Well, one of my jobs anyway.
"I know, but--"
"You're not going back to Mystic Spring, Mia," he said in a tone that demanded no argument.
"Why not?" I asked, pissed all of a sudden.
"Because you're my mistress now," he said bluntly. "My mistress doesn't work."
Suddenly, I was seething with anger. I folded my arms across my chest and glared. "Pray tell, Mr. Maxwell, how the fuck am I supposed live without money? If you haven't already figured it out, Andy and I weren't exactly born on a silver platter."
The moment I finished my statement, I saw the dark fire in his eyes and the coldness on his face. My stomach lurched with dread. Oh God, he was very pissed now. But then again, I couldn't help myself. After all, how could he understand my insecurity?
He was born into a filthy rich family, a family with power and influence, and he never had to suffer through the painful hardship Andy and I had gone through. The constant fear of not having enough to pay the bills or to have food on the table. My job and the income it provided was a security for me, an insurance of sorts, telling me I was doing okay, that I didn't need to depend on anyone else anymore. And for anyone to take that away from me, it was a slap in the face.
Yes, he was right. I was his mistress now, and his mistress didn't work. His words made me feel as if he were cutting me off from my life source.
I was shaking with anger as I fisted my hands tight. I had no idea what came over me all of a sudden. I had no idea why I was so angry with him. Was it because I knew my feelings for him were never going to be returned?
I didn't know. I only knew right there and then that I was going to have a fight with him. That I wasn't going to back down. I wanted to return to my job, and no matter what he said or did, I wasn't going to change my mind.
I raised my head high and said through gritted teeth, "I'm going back to Mystic Spring, Mr. Maxwell, back to my job. You have no say in the matter."
"I have every say in the m
atter, Mia," he said coldly. "I own you."
My heart shattered.
I own you? The words killed me. Was that all I was to him? I, as his mistress, was merely one of his many properties?
Come to think of it, that was true. I was simply his plaything, his toy that was worth two million. I was nothing. Nothing to him.
Oh God! I could feel the rage within me erupting. My heart was thumping so hard and so fast, and my pulse was racing. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I inhaled and exhaled sharply.
I was livid. How dare he? Oh, I'd show him this toy of his had a mind of her own. She had a will that wasn't going to bend to his whim.
I climbed on the bed and stalked to him. There I stood, my head a little higher than this muscular man who was over six feet. I glared at him, my face close to his. I was at eye level with him as I said, "I'm not one of your properties or your toy, Mr. Maxwell. I'm a human being. Yes, I may be your fucking mistress. Yes, you can fuck me all you want, but you can't bend me to your will. I'm not going to fall for you, Mr. Maxwell. Never. Never ever in a million years will I ever fall in love with a man so fucking controlling, so fucking overbearing!"
With that, I turned on my heel, jumped down from the bed, and marched out the door of the bedroom. There, I slammed the door shut as a parting shot.
Screw him, I thought. Screw that blasted gorgeously hot billionaire James Maxwell. Nope. I wasn't going to fall in love with him. Never! Ever!
Chapter 32
James
He didn't want her to work. What is so fucking hard to understand about that? James thought in irritation. He'd provide everything for her, even a regular income. He was a generous man when it came to a person he adored, and Mia was definitely one of those people. So why the fuck did she behave like he'd crushed her heart when he refused to let her return to Mystic Spring, which was no longer her home?
"Fuck!" he swore under his breath as he raked his fingers through his thick, dark hair.
Was she really going to defy him and return to the small town? What with that two hundred bucks of hers? Furthermore, her sick bastard of an uncle was still on the loose, prowling the country, searching for her and her brother. He had no doubt the manic would kidnap Mia if he found her. Fuck, didn't she realize her life could be in danger? That he personally wouldn't be able to protect her if she were to return to the other side of the States?