Because He Watches Me (Because He Owns Me, Book Nine) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance)

by Hannah Ford

  And her climax was a catalyst for Red, who gripped her arms and pulled her toward him as he came inside of her. Their mouths pressed together, tongues intertwined, everything as one.

  She could feel him, could feel his heart pounding against her breast in a steady, fast rhythm as their crescendo caused Nicole’s entire body to lock up in a state of pure bliss.

  When it was over, they lay together, panting, Red chuckling as he regained his senses. “This bed looks like it’s just been through a war.”

  Nicole glanced at the silk sheets, half on the bed, half on the floor. Pillows tossed across the room. And the two of them, their juices and sweat and sex comingling as they lay, spent.

  “We’ll definitely need to do a wash,” she told him, keeping her head on his bare chest so she could listen to the sound of his heart.

  Red stroked her hair softly, kissed the top of her head. “I can’t believe how lucky I am,” he said.

  She glanced up at him. “You lead a charmed life.”

  “Not quite,” he said, his expression growing more somber.

  “You’re rich, famous, successful, good looking, intelligent. And you have an awesome woman who adores you. Isn’t that the definition of leading a charmed life?”

  He laughed, the darkness fading and lightness returning to his eyes. “When you put it that way…”

  “You deserve everything you have,” she told him, caressing his chest with her hand. “You’re a beautiful person inside and out.”

  “Only you see me as I really am, Nicole.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll do anything for you and I’m always going to protect you. You know that, right?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  It felt so good and right lying in Red’s arms like this. Everything was just perfect, and for a moment she had not a care in the world. And then, as if her own mind couldn’t allow Nicole to just enjoy this small slice of perfection—she remembered her parents.

  “Oh god,” she muttered, filled with dread at the thought of her mother’s judgment.

  “What’s wrong?” Red asked.

  “I just thought about how I need to tell my parents the wedding is on again.”

  “So?”

  “So, my mother’s going to be insufferable. She was relieved when I told her we’d broken up.”

  “That’s it. I’m calling her.” He made as if to get out of bed, and Nicole clutched at him.

  “Don’t you dare. I’m serious.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes.”

  He began tickling her, his fingers goosing her stomach and ribs and she was giggling and trying to keep him at bay.

  “I don’t know, Nicole. You’re laughing. You don’t seem very serious to me.”

  “Please—Red! Red!” she squealed.

  “What?”

  “Stop!” she gasped.

  He let go of her and grinned as she once again straddled him. “Your parents won’t ever approve of me,” he said. His smile faded a little as he said it. “But I’m not worried about them. I love you and nothing and no one is going to change that.”

  “I just don’t want to have to defend myself to her.”

  “Your mom?”

  “She’s going to pester me constantly.”

  He grabbed her wrists lightly and pulled her down for a long, extended kiss. The warmth of his lips and body, his closeness—the smell of him—it made her mind go blank. All she knew was how good Red felt. And then they stopped kissing. Red stroked her hair again, sending shivers up and down her spine.

  “Next time you speak to her, remember us—remember what we have,” he said. “Keep it in your mind and hold onto it. Never let anybody make you doubt what we share.”

  “Okay.”

  “Promise me, Nicole.”

  “I promise,” she said.

  And then they kissed again, making Nicole forget everything—everything but the magic that the two of them made when they were close.

  ***

  Nicole moaned with pleasure as she bit into the delectable broccoli and cheese omelet that Chef Roland had cooked for her. He was Red’s personal chef, and he was on call 24/7, ready to come to the house at a moment’s notice to prepare anything Red or his guests desired.

  “You like?” Red asked, as he sipped at his coffee.

  “I like. Very much.” She took another bite and shook her head, completely awestruck by the amazing taste of this simple food. The eggs and cheese practically melted in her mouth.

  They were sitting in the veranda located off the kitchen. Nicole liked sitting out there because it was very open and spacious, but there was still a roof overhead and some protection from the elements.

  Inside, she could see Chef Roland bustling to and fro in the kitchen. He was a middle-aged man with red hair and bright blue eyes, and he and Red seemed to be friends. They had a quick, easy rapport.

  “Isn’t it kind of strange to just have a man in your kitchen, fixing you meals like that?” she asked Red, as he kicked back in his chair and enjoyed his coffee.

  “Maybe at first. I’m used to it now.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.”

  He shrugged. “We can let him go if it makes you uncomfortable.”

  “You mean fire him?”

  Red smiled. “Chef Roland has plenty of opportunities in the culinary world. If you don’t like having him around, he won’t be here.”

  Nicole took yet another bite of the scrumptious breakfast and closed her eyes. “Come to think of it, I might get used to this life.”

  Red laughed. “That’s what I thought.”

  She opened her eyes, put her fork down, and studied her fiancé’s expression. He was sipping his coffee and seemed to be content, but just a few minutes ago he’d glanced at the Wall Street Journal and something had upset him. She’d seen the tension in his eyes and the way his jaw tightened as he quickly scanned the paper.

  At the time, she’d let it go. Work was work, and she was still really nothing but a glorified intern.

  But as she watched Red now, trying to look at ease, trying to remain playful and happy—yet somehow not being totally convincing—Nicole sensed that whatever was going on might be serious enough for her to ask about it.

  “I noticed you reading the paper earlier,” she said carefully, trying to sound curious instead of suspicious.

  “Me? Never. I only read blogs and only when they’re about me.” He grinned and sipped his coffee.

  He was being coy and she wasn’t sure she liked it. “Was there something in The Wall Street Journal that bugged you?”

  He frowned briefly and sighed. “Nothing worth thinking about or talking about.”

  “But you are. You are thinking about it.”

  He smiled at her. “Aren’t you the clever psychologist all of a sudden?”

  “I just want to make sure you’re okay. If something’s bothering you, I want to know what it is.”

  Red licked his lips. “I’m going to tell you a secret, babe.” He leaned forward in his seat. “When it comes to business, something’s always bothering me.”

  “I’m a good listener.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Don’t patronize me, Red.”

  “I’m not.” He put his coffee cup down on the table. “I just want us to enjoy this beautiful morning together and—“

  Suddenly, his phone was buzzing. With a frustrated exhalation, Red glanced at it, and then his eyes widened. “Shit. It’s my mother.”

  Nicole felt a rolling, sickening sensation in her stomach—like she’d was on an elevator dropping twenty floors. “Are you going to answer it?”

  He stared at the phone hesitantly. She’d never seen Red look that way before—nervous and unsure. Finally he answered, standing up and walking a few paces away from the table, turning his back to her.

  “Mother,” he said, a statement. Then he listened for a time. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself,”
he said. “I meant to but things have been busy for me.” Another long silence while he apparently listened.

  Nicole wondered if his mother was haranguing him, insulting him like she’d done when he was a child. She couldn’t imagine Red putting up with that sort of thing now, though.

  “You are?” he said, his voice getting slightly louder. “When were you planning to arrive?” His shoulders tensed and hunched as the conversation went on. “Of course…what about Jeb? Is he coming with you?”

  Nicole pushed her plate of eggs away. She suddenly she’d lost her appetite.

  “I’ll see you soon,” Red said, after another long pause. And then he ended the call, staring down at his phone as if had betrayed him. He came back to the table and sat, his face drawn and no trace of the earlier good humor remaining. “That was interesting,” he said with sarcasm.

  “What’s going on?”

  “My mother’s apparently been reading the tabloids. She was upset that I hadn’t told her about our engagement, and so now she’s decided to drop in and meet you in person.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes.” He wiped a hand across his face. “She’s flying in from Chicago and will be here first thing in the morning.”

  “To meet me.”

  “Yes.” He crossed his arms and sat back, rolling his eyes as if examining the ceiling. “She said she’s looking forward to becoming fast friends with my wife-to-be.”

  “Oh god.”

  “Don’t worry, she’s usually very nice…at first.”

  “So all I need to worry about is when she’s going to stick the knife in my back.”

  “Don’t be melodramatic, babe.” He rose from his chair and came to stand behind her. And then his strong hands were rubbing her shoulders and the back of her neck, spreading that familiar heat up and down her entire body.

  “I’m not trying to be overdramatic, Red. But those stories you told me about her—they scared me a little.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t let her hurt you.”

  “What about you?” Nicole said. “That’s what I’m really worried about.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  But Nicole wasn’t so sure.

  ***

  The rest of the day was spent in preparation for Red’s mother’s visit. He had his cleaning crew come for an emergency visit to the house, and they went through everything from top to bottom.

  Nicole tried to help out around the house as well, and the cleaners seemed to find that rather odd. They watched her curiously as she cleaned smudges off the windows and got down on her hands and knees and scrubbed the bathroom tiles.

  Often she would be in different rooms from the workers, but when they walked by and saw her sweating and working, a strange look would cross their faces. Nicole didn’t understand just what the issue was.

  One of the housekeepers was a young girl that had to be around Nicole’s age. Dark haired and dark skinned, she had a beautiful oval face with almond eyes. She was thin and petite, but something about her was instantly charming, Nicole thought.

  When the dark haired girl was passing by Nicole with some linen from one of the many guest rooms, Nicole waved. “Hey,” she said. “I’m Nicole.”

  “Hello,” the girl said. She didn’t have much of an accent, although most of her co-workers seemed to be from Brazil. “I’m Juliana.”

  “Have you been working here long?”

  The girl shook her head. “About a month. My mother and father work here, and they decided it was time for me to start coming along to help.”

  “Are you a student?”

  “I just graduated high school.” Juliana smiled shyly and shrugged. “I’m not sure what to do next.”

  “Is there anything else you need help with around the house?” Nicole asked. “I finished with the master bathroom.”

  The girl’s hesitant smile turned into a slight frown. “It’s not my business to say.”

  “No, I’m asking you. Feel free to tell me what you think. Is there something wrong with my helping?”

  “It’s just—this is my family’s work. When they see you doing so much cleaning, they get scared you’re going to take it away from them. They need this job.”

  “Me? Take care of this entire house?” she laughed. “I was just trying to chip in.”

  Juliana’s eyes were still somber. “I know it seems silly to you. But a job like this, with such good pay—it’s very, very rare. And Mister Jameson treats my family well. They’re afraid of change.”

  “Of course,” Nicole said, feeling horrible that she’d offended them while trying to help. “I’m just not used to standing around while other people work.”

  Juliana smiled, but it wasn’t an altogether pleasant smile. “This is how it is,” she told her. “You’re rich.”

  Nicole smiled sadly in return and walked downstairs, where she found Red on the veranda, on his cell phone. He had his back to her and didn’t notice she’d come out, so he continued talking without interruption.

  “How could this happen? How?” Pause. “I don’t fucking believe it. You’re killing me, John. You told me that buying AK was a golden opportunity. You showed me the due diligence, so how did this fucking happen?”

  Nicole stood at the entrance to the veranda, her hands twisting against each other as she nervously eavesdropped on his call. She knew this Germany thing was a much bigger deal than he’d let on, and this was the proof.

  Red nodded, listening to whomever he was speaking to. She assumed it was John Peterson, the CFO of Jameson International.

  “Well, now I need to fly to Germany and clean up your goddamn mess, John. Okay? Is that okay with you? Is that what you’re asking me to do?” He listened for just a moment later before exploding. “You’re fired, John. Fired. Understand? Get on a plane and come back to the U.S. I’m going to fly out first thing Monday morning and try and fix the absolute mess you’ve made of my company.”

  Red hung up his cell phone and made as if to throw it across the room, but didn’t. Nicole had a quick, horrifying flashback to her first night at the house, when Red had gone nuts and started throwing plates and dishes, shattering them all over the dining room.

  He finally turned and saw Nicole standing there.

  His lips came together and tightened, his eyes narrowed. “Were you just spying on me?”

  “Don’t talk to me like that,” she replied.

  “Don’t spy on me.”

  “I wasn’t spying on you,” she said. “I came out to talk with you, and when I heard you so upset, of course I wanted to stay and make sure you were okay.”

  He looked down at his phone again, as if in disbelief. “Well I’m fine.”

  “No you’re not.”

  “I’m not in the mood to play games with you, Nicole. I’ve got real problems to deal with, the last thing I need is to try and manage your feelings about me raising my voice on a business call.”

  Nicole wanted to storm out. The old Nicole would have done just that. But she’d grown a little over these last few weeks—at least, she liked to think she’d grown. And now she realized that Red was just scared. Being vulnerable wasn’t easy for him, and she needed to remind herself that his reaction at a time like this wasn’t really personal. He’d been trained to keep a wall between himself and everyone else.

  She sat down on the wooden rocking chair that faced out to the rolling green hills and the pond in the distance. “Come sit next to me,” she said, patting the other chair beside her.

  “I’m not in the mood,” he replied, petulantly, like a teenager.

  “Humor me.”

  “I’ve got some business to attend to.”

  She took a deep breath and exhaled. “I’m being reasonable. And I’m your fiancé, so I have every right to hear what’s going on.”

  He nodded, resigned, and sat down in the chair next to her, but his posture was stiff and closed off.

  “Hold my hand,” she said.

  She cou
ld tell he didn’t really want to, but eventually he took her hand in his, and as he did so, Nicole felt the tension drain out of him just a little. His shoulders came down slightly and his face became smoother.

  “There’s been a major glitch in Germany,” he said, finally.

  “What kind of glitch?”

  He sighed. “The kind that brings down empires.”

  That sent a small chill up her spine. “Tell me more. What happened?”

  Red glanced at her as if trying to figure out just how much he should reveal. “What happened is, I got greedy. There’s a very large and successful agency in Germany and the founder was supposedly looking to cash out. I’ve been trying to enlarge Jameson International’s global footprint, and this seemed the perfect opportunity. But it was a hefty price tag to buy the agency, and with some of our North American operations struggling—“

  “Who’s struggling?” she asked, confused now.

  Red looked at her again. “Things have slowed down domestically, Nicole. I’ve lost some big clients this past year. Nothing terrible, but it hurt our bottom line. This Germany acquisition was a gamble. A major gamble, given how much I paid for it and some of the cash flow issues we’re having.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you’re telling me this.”

  He looked at her again. “It gets worse.”

  “Okay. Tell me more.”

  “Our stock is very precarious at the moment. Every company in the world invests some of its capital in the stock market. And Jameson International is unlucky enough to be heavily leveraged in the EU market—we’ve lost boatloads of money the last six months.”

  “So what does all of this mean?” she said. She knew it was bad. Her stomach felt like she’d drank curdled milk.

  Red looked directly into her eyes. “It means that we’re on the precipice right now. It’s been a perfect storm of bad luck, bad decisions, some overreaching on my part. And it’s brought the company—and me personally—to a place where everything could go down in flames.”

  “But you’re rich.”

  “It’s like dominoes,” Red told her, smiling sadly. “A silly, cliché analogy, but very accurate in this case. If this new acquisition in Germany goes south, I could lose my company. You and I could lose the company, I should say.”