Chained to You (Dark Billionaires 3, 4)

"See you soon," he said over his shoulder. "Patrick is waiting downstairs to take you to your brother. Oh, and your new cell phone is on the bedside table. Keep it with you at all time. Expect to get messages from me."

I flicked my eyes to the bedside table, and sure enough, there it was, a brand new cell phone. Had James bought it specifically for me? Of course I had my own as well, but it was old and the only numbers I had on it was Andy's previous number, which was no longer in used since Andy's phone had been destroyed a few months back. Then there was the restaurant number as well. It was so that I could phone in if I was too sick to work.

So James expected me to take this new cell phone of mine with me wherever I go, eh? And to expect getting messages from him. Suddenly, I shuddered in delight. To get messages from James. Sexy, naughty messages? Or was the cell phone simply a way for him to get in contact with me to tell me when he'd turn up to see me? Either way, it was nice of him to get me one. And a very fancy one at that.

A few moments later, I heard the sound of the door shutting, and I knew James was gone. He was going to be busy with work again for sure. They were always busy, weren't they, these billionaires who had multiple businesses that was worth in the billions of dollars? Then I wondered if he and Matt was still dealing with the Mexican, cleaning up the mess from the night before. I didn't know and, honest to God, I didn't actually wanted to find out that much. I just knew that as long as Andy was safe, I was relief.

I got out of bed and headed into the bathroom to get ready. Some twenty minutes later, I was done. I had a little bit of make up on--just the foundation, a little blusher, lipstick, and a hint of dark mascara. My long hair was loosely French braided and rested to one side of my shoulder.

Today, I wore a floral sun dress of short sleeves and round neckline. The hem of the skirt reached down to just above my knees, which showed off my slender legs. Accompanying that pretty dress I wore flat ballet shoes. Staring at myself, I thought I looked rather fetching and smiled at my own accomplishment.

I headed out the door and then ordered room service. As I waited for breakfast to arrive, I headed into the walk-in-wardrobe in search of a dress I should wear to dinner with James tonight.

I crouched down to my knees, wondering if this was a kind of dinner date between us. Then I thought again that that was indeed stupid. We were not in a real girlfriend-boyfriend type relationship. Then again, I thought, neither was our relationship like that of a master and mistress. Didn't they simply do sex behind closed door and that was about it? Did they go out and have dinner dates in the open as well? I didn't know. Did the master usually buy expensive clothing for his mistress? I didn't know that one either.

I licked my lip as I stared at a lovely blue cocktail dress James had bought for me from Fleur. It was short and elegant with the material made out of satin and lace. The sleeves was short and the neckline was round. It was beautiful and covered a lot of skin, which I wanted. I'd look smart and elegant in this, I thought in glee.

I nodded, decided that it'd be the one I'd wear for tonight's dinner. Then my eyes was drawn to the lingerie James had laid out and instructed for me to wear yesterday.

A lump formed in my throat. To wear something that sexy... that erotic... It wasn't me, but...

Suddenly, my mind when to our tempestuous, powerful sex session last night, and my body squirmed in anticipation.

Would me wearing something like that increases his craving for me? Would it made him want me even more?

The thought made my stomach flutter deliciously. To be wanted by James, not only in the sex department but in the heart department as well, would be awesomely wonderful.

My thoughts turned to what had happened this morning. The way he had looked at me. The way he had kissed me. The way he had caressed me, so tenderly and so gently... To be kissed, to get morning greeting that way... Was that the way a relationship between a master and his mistress worked, too? I didn't know, but I desperately wanted to find out. Did all masters treat their mistresses like the way James treated me?

A part of me wanted to tell myself no, that wasn't the general way a master treated his mistress, that there was only sex involved and nothing else. I wanted James to be the only type of master who treated his mistress, me, this way, like he was in love with me, like I was precious to him. I wanted to be precious to him.

But of course, that was stupid of me. I knew that, yet deep down inside I was still hoping something wonderful will come out of our unconventional relationship.

A couple of loud knocks came at the door, and I jumped. I had forgot about my breakfast. I quickly placed both the dress and the lingerie back in place and headed out the walk-in-closet into the bedroom and then to the living area.

After I had had my delicious breakfast, I took my new satchel, not forgetting about my new cell phone and of course my wallet, and then headed out the door.

Down in the main foyer, the kick-ass looking bodyguard I had met with yesterday, the one who had drove me back from the hospital to the hotel, rushed over to me the moment I stepped out of the elevator. I assumed he must be Patrick, the man who was to be my chauffeur again for today.

"Good morning, Miss Donovan," he greet cheerfully. "Where would you like to go today?"

I felt fluster all of a sudden. I wasn't used to this type of stuff where I was treated like a rich, pampered princess. I was Mia Donovan, an orphan girl with a dark past who no one cared about. The girl who had to strive hard to claim her spot in life.

I smiled shyly and said, "The hospital."

"Of course," he said, nodding his head. "This way, Miss Donovan."

I followed him out the grand entrance of the hotel. A moment later, I found myself staring at a silver, flash car that I had no idea what the brand was. Yesterday's car was a simple black one. But today? Today was different. This one looked mightily expensive, and it was used to transport me to the hospital?

I was used to bus. Not this fancy type of car that would have costed the earth to obtain.

Patrick opened the door of the backseat for me, and I entered. I was used to sitting in the front seat beside James who drove the car. I was used to watching his large, strong hand gripping comfortably and commandingly on the steering wheel. I liked watching the way James's hands moving and controlling the steering wheel. There was something very fascinating about that.

Of course, I was definitely not used to sitting at the back seat alone. I put on the seatbelt as Patrick started driving out.

"It's a lovely morning, isn't it, Miss Donovan?" Patrick started the conversation.

I nodded in agreement. "Yes." It was indeed a lovely morning when you woke to be greeted by a hot billionaire kissing you and promising you to a wonderful dinner and then later a sort of wild sex session that'd surely make the earth shake under you.

I sighed, a secret smile playing about my lips. Then I dug my hand into my new bag and found the cell phone James had given me. I needed to familiarize myself with this one and so I spent the next fifteen minutes browsing through the apps. I noted that James had already had his own phone number in the contact list. He was simply James there and nothing else. Nothing fancy like dark billionaire your master or anything like that. There was Andy's and Matt's numbers as well. How considerate of him, I thought. Then again, why would I need Matt's phone number? Oh yes, in case Andy--

I stopped right there. I didn't want to think about what might happen to Andy. It was just too frightening at the thought. I was grateful, however, that James had put Matt's number on my contact list in case I needed his help in the future.

When we arrived at the hospital later, Patrick and I headed straight up to Andy's room. There, Patrick took up his position beside the other kick-ass bodyguard.

I greeted the other one, whom I had yet to find out his name, and then headed straight in to see Andy.

My brother was gazing out the window when I came in. I took the seat beside his bed, moving the chair closer so I could be right ne

xt to him.

He definitely looked better today, and the bruises on his face had changed color, too. It was lighter, I think. He was healing, and I was glad.

"Good morning, Andy," I said, giving him a light kiss on the forehead. "How are you feeling today?"

Andy managed to give me a grin and went on to his complaint. "The food here is horrible, Mia" he said. "I wish you'd cook for me. I've missed your food. It's been ages since I tasted your fry-rice and your egg omelet."

I smiled. Andy was the only one who had ever adored my cooking. My fry-rice and egg omelet, Asian style, were his favorites. Of course these two dishes were basic and the ingredients were cheap, which we could comfortably afford.

"I'll cook for you tomorrow," I said. Then I wondered if I was allowed to use that fancy kitchenette back at the hotel. I'd have to ask James tonight.

"Unfortunately, I can't handle hard food at the moment," he said. "Something soft?"

I nodded. "Of course," I said. "I'll think of something."

Chapter 13

Mia

Andy slept for the most part of the day whilst I read magazines as I sat there beside him. When he woke, we'd chat about random topic that had nothing to do with our current situation, which we both tried our utter most to avoid. Who'd want to talk about billionaire elites, underground business world, Mexican cartel, kidnapping, torturing, and that sort in the hospital with a very injured patient who had just been through those afore mentioned shit? Sometime, it was easier to live to delude yourself into believing that everything was all right. Deep within my mind, however, I wondered if things that had happened to Andy would likely to happen again, and I knew the answer was yes, one hundred percent.

The thought didn't sit well with me. I wanted to protect Andy. I wanted his and my life to go back to the way they had been six months ago before Andy had left Mystic Spring, when I had a job as a kitchen hand and Andy as a cleaner even though we only made just enough to get by. But at least then we didn't have to worry about whether Andy would get kidnapped by the Mexican or the Albanian.