Submitting to the Billionaire

“How strange that you would protect such a pervert. If there’s one thing I hate, it is men that interfere with children.”

Anger rises in my stomach. I concentrate on laying the knife down calmly, as if he has not infuriated me so much I want to stab him with it. “Stop calling him that,” I say quietly.

“Why not? It’s the truth.”

“It’s not the truth. I was not a child.”

“You were wearing your school uniform.”

I swallow hard. I can’t look him in the eye. How could he possibly have guessed that? When Nigel arrived at the party I had not gone up to change yet. Both Sara, Nigel’s niece, whose birthday it was, and I, were still in our uniforms eating ice lollies in the kitchen. He had come in and something in the way he looked at me while I was sucking my lolly made me blush.

Irritated that he guessed right I glare at him. “But I didn’t look like a child. If you think you can make me feel revulsion for Nigel by calling him vile names you can stop right now because it won’t work. My father tried that and it had absolutely no effect on me.”

“So your father agrees with me,” he pounces.

I take a deep breath. God, give me strength. “While my father’s first instinct as a parent was to protect me he doesn’t think that anymore. He has since realized that Nigel is a good man.” I cross my fingers under the table.

“Hmmm … I’ll have to revise my opinion of you.”

I frown. “What opinion?”

“You are capable of lying.”

I sip at my coffee. “Why would you think that I wasn’t? Everybody lies. I’ve told some massive corkers in my time.”

“When was the last time you lied?”

The last time was when I told him I didn’t want him. I shrug. “I can’t remember now.”

“Hmm …” He lapses into silence and only turns his attention to me again when he finishes his food. “Do you plan to see your father today?”

“No, I’ll go tomorrow. My grandmother is visiting him today.” I smile cynically. “I had to lie to her. She thinks I’m not very well and I’m at home with Nigel.”

As usual the mention of Nigel makes his face darken. “I’ll be away most of the day but you are welcome to explore the grounds, ride, swim, find a book in the library or catch a movie in the cinema room. Do anything you want. I’ll be back for dinner.”

I nod.

To be honest the idea of not spending the day with him is a relief. The time we spend together seems fraught with confusing emotions and barely suppressed hostility.

He stands and walks over to me. Immediately my heart starts pounding.

“What?” I ask nervously.

“Before I go, stand up and take your underwear off.”

My eyes widen. “What?” I exclaim, even though I can already feel my body responding to the sexual demand.

“You heard.”

“Why? You are going away.” My voice sounds breathless.

“Because I like to think of you walking around my property; your cunt swollen and wet between your legs.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Star

For a few seconds I stare rebelliously at him. Then it occurs to me that if I don’t obey he might decide to take matters into his own hands, and then he will see how right his assessment has been. I can feel how wet I am. I take my panties off. Bunching them up in my fist, I drop them into his outstretched palm.

“I expect to find you bare when I return,” he says before he walks out.

It’s a strange sensation to walk around without my underwear. I’ve never done it, especially not while wearing such a short dress. It is at once liberating and slightly worrying. What if a sudden breeze picks up my skirt or I have an accident? Everyone will see my bits.

Since the weather is so lovely I decide to take a walk in the grounds. I veer off the path and walk on the carefully manicured carpet of grass towards a pretty red-brick and stone building. I walk up the steps and try the wooden door. It opens.

To my surprise I’m standing in a small chapel filled with light coming in from the stained-glass windows. It is very beautiful and spiritual, and I have a moment of disquiet. I shouldn’t have entered a place of worship without my panties, but then I laugh at myself. How silly of me.

God created us all naked.

It is cool and peaceful as I walk to the front. There is a plain wooden cross on the back wall. I kneel on the ground and close my eyes. I pray for my father’s health. Then I pray that Nigel will be cured of his addiction. Finally, I say a little prayer for me. I pray that I will stay strong. That I will not be consumed by my own carnal and base desires. For a few minutes afterward, I sit on one of the pews in quiet contemplation. Then I cross myself and leave that quiet sanctuary.

I follow the path towards the stables. There is no one around so I enter the building. Oh my, what impossibly majestic creatures! The only horses I’ve come into close contact with until then were the thick farm horses giving children rides on the beach.

These horses stand tall and are so sleek their necks shine even in the dim light of the stables. I walk up to one of them, and she looks at me without moving. Gently, I raise my hand and when she does not react I lay my hand on her glossy neck. She looks at me quietly. You can see her intelligence in her eyes.

I walk further in and become transfixed by a huge white horse in one of the back stalls. He is absolutely stunning, and I have this weird sensation. Almost as if I’ve discovered a mythical creature. I start walking towards him and he makes a jerky gesture with his head and paws the ground. I don’t know much about horses but his actions are definitely not welcoming, so I stop and cautiously head towards another horse. She is such a sweet thing and so friendly I wish I had brought her a lump of sugar or an apple.

As I am standing there stroking her silky neck, whispering nonsense, and admiring her beauty, a husky puppy comes bounding up to me. The gorgeous little thing jumps excitedly around my feet. I bend down and scoop him up in my hands. He licks my face enthusiastically, making me laugh.

I catch sight of a man entering the stable and approaching me. He is dressed in khaki trousers, a checked shirt and mucky boots.

“Come here, Storm,” he calls, and the bundle of fur leaps out of my hands and makes a mad dash over to him. He picks it up and looks at me with a smile. “Sorry, Miss Minton. I hope he didn’t ruin your clothes. He’s still a puppy and a bit full of himself. If he’s not careful he’s going to get kicked in the head by one of the horses.”

I brush at the fur on my clothes. “Not at all. I love dogs and I enjoyed his company.” I walk up to him. “Please, call me Star,” I say, extending my hand.

He takes it in a rough, firm grasp. “Ray.”

I tilt my head towards the horses. “Do you think I could learn to ride one of the horses?”

“I don’t see why not. I’ll have to ask Mr. Smirnov first, of course.”

“He said I could.”

“In that case. I have just the horse for you, a docile mare. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Miss One Penny.”

He is right. Miss One Penny is as placid as you could possibly want. She has the kindest warmest brown eyes, and I fall in love with her instantly.

“When do you want to start?”

“I don’t know,” I reply, rubbing Miss One Penny’s face. “I don’t have any riding gear. I’ll have to ask Celine.”

“Just let Celine know when you want to start. I’m always around anyway.”

“Thanks. The white horse is really beautiful, but he seems very hostile. Does anyone ride him?”

“He’s very highly strung. Only Mr. Smirnov can ride him. His name is Belyy Smert.”

“Does that mean something?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “White Death.”

“Wow. That’s a really wild name.”

“That’s only because you haven’t seen him in action. He rides like the wind.”

It’s already twelve by then,

and I head back to the house where Celine is waiting for me. I see that she has already got a laptop waiting for me.

We have lunch together and I must say I really start to enjoy her company. She is friendly and extremely eager to help me in any way she can. I ask her for some riding clothes and she instantly agrees to go to London that afternoon to buy them for me.

“Oh good. Maybe, I can start riding tomorrow,” I say excitedly.

“I don’t think you are here tomorrow. If I’m not mistaken you will be in London.”

“Oh, okay. When am I back?” I ask feeling a bit stupid.

“I’m not sure. I can ask Mr. Smirnov’s secretary, but perhaps it might be better if you find out directly from Mr. Smirnov.”

I smile faintly. “Yes, I’ll do that.” I stuff a bit of chicken into my mouth, and wonder what Celine must think of my presence here. How odd it must seem to her that I do not even seem to know where I will be from day to day.

I feel another spurt of anger that Nigel has put me in this position, but I take a deep breath and tell myself that I’m in one of the most beautiful places on earth. There is so much for me to do, learn, explore and enjoy. I will treat this month as a holiday and take advantage of everything it has to offer. These are things that I could never dream of experiencing otherwise.

After lunch I carry my new laptop to the Chinoiserie room in the West wing of the house. I earmarked it earlier as the room that I will feel most comfortable to work in.

There is a small Victorian writing table there that reminds me of the one I have at home. It is in one corner of the room, half-hidden by a Japanese lacquer screen, and when I get behind the desk I feel quite secluded and safe. If I turn my head, I can look into the garden where there is a rose arbor close by. As I lay my laptop down and look out, and see pheasants roaming the grounds, a trio of Muntjac deer wander into my sight and start grazing. I watch them, a smile of pure pleasure on my face. What a paradise this man owns.