How to Master a Millionaire

by Talia Hunter

  So why spill so many secrets to Ally? Was it those bewitching gray eyes of hers? Or was it their easy rapport, the way they’d clicked together so effortlessly?

  Maybe opening up to her had actually helped. He’d done better with Thomas’s submissive scenes this afternoon. Not that they’d gotten to any of the harder ones—the early ones were mild in comparison to the scenes at the end of the script. And the ones he’d rehearsed weren’t up to the standard he expected from himself, not yet. He’d made some good progress, but still had a long way to go.

  “Let’s call it a day. You must be hungry.” He rubbed his stomach. “I know I am.”

  “I decide when we finish,” she corrected. Then she grinned. “And I’m starving. What’s for dinner?”

  “Tonight’s going to be an easy meal. I had the hotel chef make something we could reheat. But tomorrow I’ll cook for us.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You cook?”

  He clapped one hand to his chest as though her disbelief had pierced his heart. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

  “I’m learning my lesson. You’re not exactly predictable, are you, Max?”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, weirdly pleased. Strange how he was unfazed by breathless fans screaming for his autograph, and yet Ally’s simple eyebrow raise had sent a flush of satisfied warmth through him.

  She followed him into the kitchen and watched him heat up their meals. The hotel chef knew his stuff, and the Thai curry he’d prepared smelled delicious. They took their plates to the dining table and went over the day’s rehearsal while they ate. Max asked Ally to give him feedback on every scene, measuring her reaction and making a mental note whenever a twitch of her freckled nose or a hesitation in her voice told him his portrayal of Thomas hadn’t been up to standard.

  When they’d finished, he stacked the plates in the dishwasher and poured them both a fresh glass of wine. He’d done all he could for the day, and now it was time to relax.

  “Are you ready for the highlight of the evening?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come on.” He led her to a small door that was at the end of the long hallway. “Through here is my favorite part of the house.”

  “I thought this was a closet.”

  “It’s the door to Narnia.” He flung it open with a flourish. But the lights were off, so the stairwell it opened up to looked dark and uninviting, rather ruining the drama. She looked sideways at him and he shrugged. “The White Witch must have killed the lights.”

  “You’ve read C.S Lewis?” Ally caught herself. “Oh wait. They made those books into movies, didn’t they?”

  “You got me.” Max flicked the switch and the dark stairs were suddenly bright. The wall sconces were a bit over-the-top for his taste — they were supposed to look like wall-mounted fire torches, with plastic flame-shaped bulbs. But by the way her lips twitched, she obviously appreciated the effect.

  He led her down the stairs and when he turned on the lights at the bottom, he was rewarded by Ally’s gasp. He’d had the same reaction when he’d seen it for the first time. It was far bigger than he would have believed possible for an underground room, and it had a high, ornate ceiling. A full-size movie screen took up the far wall. In front of it was a row of reclining armchairs, enough for twelve people to lean back and watch the screen in comfort.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She gazed around the room, her reaction even more amazed than he’d hoped for. “Our own movie theater?”

  He grinned, enjoying her awe. Lately he’d been spending too much time with people who weren’t impressed by any kind of luxury. He never wanted to forget his modest background or lose his own sense of wonder.

  “The DVD selection.” He led her to the side of the theater. Set into the wall were shelves containing hundreds of movies.

  She ran her finger over the titles. One caught her eye and she pulled it out and handed it to him. “I heard this one contains nudity,” she said with a wink.

  “Titanic?” He shook his head. “A great watch the first time, but not a movie you could ask me to sit through twice.”

  “This one then.” She tugged out another. “It’s one of my favorite books. I can’t see how any film could possibly do it justice.”

  “The Great Gatsby. Good choice. Baz Luhrmann’s one of the greats. A director I’d give my right eye to work with.” He put the movie in the player, grabbed a couple of 3-D glasses from the shelf, then took Ally’s arm to guide her to an armchair. He sat next to her and handed her a pair of glasses. “You’ll need these.”

  “I’ve never seen a 3-D movie before,” she said, putting them on.

  He couldn’t help but smile at the oversize glasses that did nothing to hide her delighted expression. Even wearing those ugly glasses she was beautiful. Eat your heart out, Daisy Buchanan. When he’d first seen this film he’d thought Carey Mulligan perfectly cast, but Ally would have been far more captivating in the role. It was a shame she hadn’t become an actor instead of a dominatrix because she’d make a gorgeous leading lady.

  The lights dimmed, and Max watched the opening shots of the green light shining across the water with a technical eye, noting the smooth transition into the sanitarium, and the way Toby McGuire’s voice-over drew the viewer into the story. Then came the stunning shots of 1920’s New York, juxtaposed against a pumping modern rap soundtrack. Baz Luhrmann knew how to film an incredible spectacle. If Max was ever going to convince Ally that movies could be as good as books, this movie hadn’t been a bad choice to start with.

  He kept half his attention on Ally and half on the screen, while the camera swooped inside the impressive Buchanan mansion. Ally watched Nick Carraway step into a room filled with billowing white curtains, and let out a burst of delighted laughter. Max’s chest loosened. What a wonderful sound. It made him feel warm and light, like a hundred balloons were lifting him off his feet. It was impossible to resist laughing along with her.

  “What did you think?” he asked when the movie finally ended.

  She drew her glasses off slowly, like she was reluctant to return to the real world. “Amazing.”

  He pretended to be shocked by her reaction. “So you’re saying movies aren’t so bad?”

  She grinned. “Shame the book was so much better.”

  “Then it’s lucky I’ve got four more nights to show you how good movies can be.” Maybe it was just because he couldn’t resist a challenge, but the thought made him surprisingly happy.

  Chapter Six

  Ally was woken by a knock on her door the next morning. “Breakfast is ready,” said Max from outside. “Hurry or it’ll get cold.”

  “I decide when we get up,” Ally mumbled into her pillow. Too late, his footsteps had gone back down the hall, and she wasn’t up to shouting.

  Groaning, she dragged herself up and showered. After the movie, she’d stayed up late writing a story about Max and the day’s events, so she hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep. She didn’t think she could face any food yet, but when she got to the kitchen, the aroma of eggs and buttered toast made her stomach rumble.

  “We’ll run scenes again today.” Max was at the coffee machine, looking far too fresh in a fitted white T-shirt and jeans, with his hair still damp from the shower. Did the man have to look so gorgeous first thing in the morning, when her defenses were at their lowest? Ally’s gaze drifted over his butt while he worked the machine. She licked her lips, then ran her tongue over her teeth. Had she remembered to brush them?

  “I make the decisions, not you.” But she was too tired to be assertive, and it came out sounding weak.

  “Coffee?” He turned and held out a steaming mug.

  Taking it from him, she breathed a silent prayer of thanks.

  She cupped the hot mug between both palms and sipped it with her eyes closed. Its warmth flooded her, and she sighed with relief. Okay, now she felt human enough to face him, and even let her gaze linger over his chest a
nd biceps, admiring the way his T-shirt strained across his muscles. He looked like he’d just stepped off one of his billboards, for heaven's sake. All this time she’d assumed those pictures were photoshopped, because really, who looked that good in real life, let alone at this time of the morning? Ally probably looked a mess. The mirror in the bathroom had been too fogged up after her shower to do a proper job with her face and hair, and she’d been too bleary-eyed to care.

  He put a plate of eggs on the breakfast bar and she slid onto a stool. “That work for you?” he asked. Then added unconvincingly, “Mistress?”

  “What’s that?” She picked up the knife and fork he set in front of her. She was hungrier than she’d realized and the eggs looked good.

  “Running scenes.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Mmm. The eggs tasted delicious, even if they were a little cold. Half an hour ago they must have been amazing.

  He laughed. “So you’re not a morning person?”

  “How could you tell?” She slugged her coffee, shrugging off a strong feeling of guilt. If only he knew the real reason she was so tired. Her story had taken hours to write last night, so it was almost three in the morning by the time she’d finally switched her light off.

  “We’re running behind schedule.” He took his printed sheet of paper down off the fridge. “I let you sleep in.”

  She shook her head. “I’m the one who sets the schedule, not you.”

  “We have a lot of work to do, and can’t afford to waste time.”

  She sighed. Maybe she’d feel up to a battle of wills after a second cup of coffee.

  He put the paper down in front of her and she almost choked on her eggs. According to his schedule, he’d gone for a run at six o’clock. “You’ve exercised already?” she asked.

  “Best time to go is early, before it gets hot.” He poured them both a glass of orange juice without asking if she wanted one. She should tell him not to make assumptions, but actually the orange juice did look refreshing. She took it without a word. She’d have to build up to giving the orders today.

  Sunshine was streaming in through the window, highlighting Max’s tousled, sandy hair and making it shine like gold. His tanned skin glowed underneath his white T-shirt. He looked more like a god than an ordinary man, like he’d jumped off Mount Olympus and glided down to earth. How was she supposed to tell a god what to do?

  “More coffee,” she mumbled. Yeah, that’s what she needed. And a personality transplant. She finished her eggs and orange juice while he made her a second cup of coffee, and by the time she was sipping on it, she was starting to feel a little less fragile.

  “Ready to start?” he asked. “I thought we’d take it from where we left off yesterday.”

  She nodded and let him lead her into the living room. Sure she could assert herself, but she didn’t have any better ideas about what to do today, besides going back to bed.

  When they started work, she found herself quickly drawn in to the scenes between Thomas and Cora. This early in the movie, the scenes were of them getting to know each other, with the more intense sexual scenes coming later. There was a lot of dialogue, and Max insisted on going over each line until he could deliver it perfectly, so it was slow going for most of the day. By the time they were finished, she was going to know the whole movie by heart. They had lunch while they worked, so by five o’clock Ally was exhausted. Who’d have thought standing around reading lines could be so tiring?

  “Time to stop,” she ordered. Over the course of the day she’d gotten comfortable playing Cora’s part, and she was finding it easier to call the shots. In fact, she was enjoying it. Lacey had been right — since Barry, she’d been afraid to stand up for herself. But it was like exercising again after a long break. The muscles were still there, they just needed to remember how to work.

  Max nodded agreement. “You hungry?” he asked.

  “Starving.” Was it the fresh mountain air that made her stomach keep rumbling? “What’s for dinner?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  Ally shook her head. “Nuh-uh. I don’t like surprises.”

  He winked, his grin spreading. “I’m cooking you something special for a reward. You did great work today. I was impressed.”

  “I wasn’t that good…” She trailed off, realizing she’d been about to put herself down. Why couldn’t she just accept the compliment?

  Max put his script on the table, and his hand grazed her arm. Her stomach did that flippy thing his touch always caused. She was almost starting to get used to the way her body reacted around him, like he had it on remote control.

  “You’re a natural.” His eyes held hers. Could he tell that she wasn’t the self-confident woman she’d been pretending to be? “You could be an actress if you wanted. You’ve got plenty of raw talent, so it wouldn’t take much.” His gaze lowered, making her heart do double-time when he focused on her lips.

  Her face went hot. Was he going to kiss her? The thought made her short of breath. She wanted his lips on hers, longed for his touch with every cell in her body. But if he kissed her, she’d lose the upper hand. No way would a real dominatrix let her clients kiss her whenever they felt like it. And if it happened, she wouldn’t be able to say no to him. She was barely holding onto her self-control now.

  Ally turned away, pulling from his grasp. “I’m going to my room.” It was an effort to keep her voice steady. “Call me when dinner’s ready.”

  “It’ll be about an hour.” He seemed as composed as ever.

  Ally fled to her bedroom and closed the door behind her, breathing deeply. What was the matter with her? She was here to do a job, and everyone she loved was depending on her to do it right. She couldn’t afford to forget herself for a moment, even if the thought of kissing Max made her squeeze her thighs together to try to stop the shivers of lust running through her.

  She sat on the bed, staring at her suitcase. Last night after the movie, she’d been too focused on getting her article finished to bother to unpack. She’d rummaged around for what she needed, leaving the rest of her clothes bursting out of the bag in a tangled, crumpled mess. This morning she’d made the mess worse. But now the explosion of clothes seemed to symbolize everything that was wrong with her life.

  What she needed was some of Max’s discipline to rub off onto her. He would have put away his clothes, no matter how tired he was. Just like he’d spent the day going over and over every line of dialogue, when she would have moved on long before. That’s why he was so successful, because he was willing to do what it took without shortcuts. He had drive, determination, and he believed in himself. That was a powerful combination, and she’d be a fool not to learn from him.

  She started tugging out clothes from her suitcase and hanging them in the closet, or folding and placing them into the set of drawers. Goodbye to the old Ally. Starting now, she was going to clean up her life.

  The bag Geena had given her was tucked into the back of her suitcase, and she pulled it out last, after everything else was put away. It was a large bag with The Gee Spot printed on the side. Geena was way more open-minded about sex than Ally had ever been, and she’d probably given her all kinds of weird things. Well, there was only one way to find out.

  Ally opened the bag and fished out the first thing she found: a riding crop. Geena didn’t seriously think she’d use that, did she? Ally gave her hand an experimental whack. Ouch! Maybe she’d better not try that out on Max, or she might give him a permanent injury.

  She started to grab something else out of the bag and caught herself. The new Ally didn’t scatter things everywhere. Better to lay everything neatly out on the bed so she could see it all.

  She arranged the items in three rows. There were the things she was comfortable with, like a silk blindfold, some massage oil, a garter belt and some lacy stockings, and a bottle of passion fruit flavored lube.

  The things she wasn’t quite so sure about went into the second row. That row included a bra without cups, obviously
designed to leave her breasts uncovered, and a matching old-fashioned garter belt that went from waist to crotch, like a stiff, lacy miniskirt. She added a pair of fur-lined leather handcuffs, a feather tickler, a vibrator, and a candle, presumably for dripping hot wax onto tender bits of skin. Was that even safe?

  There was also a shiny, black, latex one-piece suit that zipped up the front. She held it up to the mirror and grimaced. It looked like a bad Halloween costume, and would probably be so tight she could barely squeeze her thighs into it. She almost put it in the third row, but then moved it to the second. Keeping an open mind.

  The third row was downright kinky. Ally put a cock ring into that row, because it looked painful and she had no idea how to use it. Next to it she placed a leather collar with ‘Bitch’ spelled out in studs, the riding crop, and a vibrating anal butt plug so big, looking at it made her wince.

  Ally took the last item out of the bag. It was a black corset that reminded her of the one Cora had been wearing in the recording they’d watched, and there was a pair of sheer stockings to go with it. Was she brave enough to put it on? Max would take one look and immediately think of Thomas kneeling between Cora’s legs. The thought sent a hot wave of lust flooding through her, and she fingered the lacy fabric. She could at least try it on to see how she looked.

  She undressed and put the corset on, struggling with the tight fit and hooking up the long fastening at the back with difficulty. She put on the stockings and clipped the corset’s straps onto them. Then she slipped on Geena’s killer heels and gazed into the mirror. Who was that woman? Ally looked so different she could hardly believe it. She looked tall and sexy. Incredible. But her plain cotton panties were all wrong. Ally unclipped her stockings to get her panties off, then did them up again. Now she looked like Cora. The corset pushed her breasts up and narrowed her waist. Even her thighs looked long and slender. And her naked sex was on display, like the centerpiece of a painting framed at each side by the corset’s straps.