by Sam Crescent
He’d wait for an answer, but they both knew what it was going to be.
Chapter Two
“You have no idea the position you’ve put me in.” Mira had been ranting for the past half hour. She’d stopped by her brother’s apartment once he got home from the hospital. It was hard getting mad when both his legs were in casts. He looked so pathetic and helpless.
But she managed.
“Forget him. I’ll figure things out.”
“No, Nigel. That’s not how any of this works. Drake told me everything. I know everything!”
Her brother rubbed both hands down his face. “I’m sorry, Mira.”
“You’re sorry? What happened to you, Nigel? I get you’re upset about Dad, but what about his legacy? Don’t you even care about the shop? About me?”
“I got in over my head. I’ve got a problem.”
She scoffed. “You’re telling me. Now I have to live in that sociopath’s bed and pump out his kids just to save your ass.”
“Mira—”
“Don’t, Nigel. No more talking. We’re out of options and you know it.” She ran a hand through her hair as she paced in front of him. The doorbell sounded.
“Who’s that?”
“The hospital sent me a Personal Support Worker for a few hours a day. I can’t do anything with these.” He pointed to the two big white casts from his seat in the borrowed wheelchair.
She needed to get out of there. As furious as she was with Nigel, she didn’t want to hinder his recovery. And she couldn’t stop obsessing over Drake’s unorthodox offer.
“I’ll check on you later. Don’t do anything else stupid,” she said before leaving his apartment. She passed the PSW on her way to the elevator.
Her cell phone rang soon after she got in her car. It was Drake again. She’d been ignoring his calls the past two days. Her mind was a mess. He represented years of bad memories when they were in school together. All that couldn’t just be forgotten and wiped out. On the other hand, she was undeniably attracted to Drake—every single thing about him. Part of her wanted to tell him to shove his offer and the other part wanted to sign on the dotted line, and it had nothing to do with Nigel.
But since Nigel was a major factor, she could blame her choice on her brother. She was doing the right thing. Nothing more. Drake didn’t need to know she enjoyed the idea of being owned by him. The way he’d touched her in the office was farther than she’d gotten with any man in her life. At thirty, that was pathetic. And no one would even believe she was a virgin.
That was fine with her.
It was embarrassing to admit she had no social life and no experience with men. Every time she tried to get close to a new guy, her nerves would fire up so bad that she’d make a fool of herself. Drake was familiar, even if in a negative context, so she didn’t fumble the same way. He took control so she didn’t have to do anything but follow his lead.
She turned off her cell phone at the next red light. Maybe if she ignored Drake, all her problems would magically go away. Mira sighed, tapping her fingers as she waited for the light to change. When the light turned green, the car in front of her didn’t move. She gave him a courtesy honk, but still nothing.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Mira honked twice, then checked her blind spot to see if she could veer around his car. But the guy in front got out of the vehicle. He was huge with a facial tattoo. Why did she honk so many times? Her heart began to pump wildly in her chest as he approached her driver’s side window.
He stood there, waiting for her to roll it down. Should she ignore him? Call the police?
She lowered the window down just a couple of inches.
“There’s a call for you,” he said, holding out a cell phone.
Mira narrowed her eyes, completely confused. She took the phone through the crack in the glass.
Tentatively, she put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“You’re hard to get a hold of, sweetheart.” It was Drake. His voice deep, calm, and controlled.
“What’s happening right now? Who is this guy and how did you know where I was?”
“I had you tailed. What would you do in my shoes? I have a lot of money riding on your brother,” he said. “You have a short memory.”
“I remember.”
“It’s been two days. I expect an answer today by eight o’clock, or I’ll collect on my debt.”
She should have answered his calls. Hiding from her problems wouldn’t make them go away. “Okay.” Mira checked her watch. It was four o’clock. Only four more hours of freedom. “I’ll call you before that.”
“No, you’ll come to my office before that. I don’t do business on the telephone, Mira.”
“Fine.” She hung up and slipped the phone through the window to Drake’s henchman.
He returned to his car and drove away just before the light turned red again.
This was it. Tonight, she’d have to sign over her life to Drake Eastwood and become his own personal breeding vessel. She never even thought much about having kids until she turned thirty recently. Her days for motherhood were growing fewer and it made her think of life passing her by. She wasn’t born to work, sleep, and stress over money.
In a last-ditch attempt to save herself from this fate, she stopped by the bank. She waited for someone to see her, her foot bobbing and her palms sweaty. By the time it was her turn, she was wobbly on her feet when she stood. Her nerves were shattered by all this stress.
“Mrs. Davencourt.” He opened an arm, motioning her to the empty chair in front of his desk.
“Miss,” she corrected.
“Of course.” He began punching something into a computer. “What can I help you with?”
“I wanted to apply for a loan.”
“Can I know the nature of the loan and how much you need?”
She swallowed hard. “I need around two hundred and fifty thousand.”
“Is this for a house? You probably need the mortgage department,” he said.
Mira shook her head. “No, just a loan.”
He smiled. “The nature of the loan?”
Her brother had gambled away the family legacy and hooked up with a bully from her past. Now she needed cold hard cash to avoid being his personal fuck toy.
“Some personal debt,” she said.
He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t see any collateral listed on your account. Do you own any property? Have any investments?”
“No. Nothing.” She started to stand up. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”
“Miss Davencourt. Have you considered a private loan? The requirements are much less strict than the bank.” He handed her a business card just before she left. As she walked out of the bank, she glanced at the card. It said Eastwood Enterprises.
She was royally screwed. Even the universe conspired against her.
After heading home to her apartment to shower and change, she drove back to Drake’s office in the city.
His PA was there in the lobby of his office, talking with the secretary. She already hated his PA. She was pretty and skinny and always looked her up and down like the popular girls used to do in high school. Mira hated feeling small, but it was the story of her life.
“I need to see Drake,” she said.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but he’s expecting me.”
The PA gave her a disapproving glare and began to flip through a planner. “He has a full schedule today. So sorry.”
“Can you tell him Mira’s here?”
The PA picked up the phone, turning her back as she talked. Within seconds, the door to Drake’s office opened and there he stood. He was wearing a black suit, no tie this time, and the top few buttons of his shirt undone. It was seven o’clock, so he was probably finished with work for the day. She was surprised his office was still open at this hour.
“I’m here on time,” she said.
“You are. With an hour to spare.” He walk
ed toward her. “But I do remember telling you that the debt grew by the hour. It’s been two days.” He pretended to count on his fingers, adding up her mounting debt.
“There’s nothing else I can give you. You’ve already asked for everything I have.”
“I’ll think of something.” He came over until he was right in front of her. “You ready to sign?”
“I have no choice. You know that.”
She handed him the business card she got from the banker. He glanced at it.
“You tried to get a bank loan?”
She ignored his question. “Why would they hand out the card of a loan shark, that’s what I want to know.”
“I’m a businessman, Mira. And I always get what I want. I have arrangements with most of the major banks in the city.”
“Of course, you do.”
He cupped her face. “I’m glad you’re ready to sign.”
****
Drake felt a sense of relief when he saw Mira standing in his office. He knew she’d be back, but the lingering doubt was now put to rest. Her blonde hair looked slightly damp, falling heavily down her back. Such innocent beauty. He’d had a torch burning for her since their school days. He should have acted sooner.
She stared up at him with those big blue eyes. Mira had turned into a gorgeous woman, and now she was all his. Without this debt, he knew she’d never have anything to do with him. A woman like her wasn’t impressed by wealth or power.
“Where do I sign?”
“Now you’re in a rush?”
She kept glancing over at his PA, so he turned around.
Glenda sat on the edge of his secretary’s desk. She was always trying to kiss his ass, but he had no interest in her romantically. He never mixed business and pleasure—except in Mira’s case.
“Drake, I’m doing this for my brother. Nothing more.”
“What about the part where you come willingly? Do you not remember that clause?”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m here. That’s all that matters.” Again, she glared at Glenda behind his back. “Next time I’ll remember to make an appointment. I’m sure I’m not your only conquest.”
Was Mira jealous?
Interesting. She had to care in order to be jealous.
“I do business all day, every day, but I only have one conquest.” Then he raked his fingers into her hair and kissed her hard on the mouth. Her lips tasted like cherries. He wanted her to understand he wasn’t hiding anything, and she was going to be the only woman in his life.
Soon, she’d be ripe with his child.
He needed heirs, but the whole marriage and family paradigm wasn’t for him. This deal with Mira was as close as he could get to a real relationship. He wasn’t capable of offering more.
“Glenda, make sure we’re not disturbed.” He took Mira’s hand and led her to his office.
“What about your eight o’clock with Mr. Stein?” asked Glenda.
“Cancel it. Cancel everything. I’m done for the night.”
He closed the office door and circled Mira. She wore some kind of skirt suit in a deep shade of purple. Nothing she did could hide those full curves—big, round hips, juicy thighs, and tits to drown in.
“What’s your favorite color?” he asked.
She frowned. “Is that important?”
“Stop being difficult, Mira. It was just a question.”
“I don’t know. Pink.”
“And what do you do for a living?”
She crossed her arms. “You know what, Drake? I’m pretty sure you know everything about me. Let’s stop playing games, okay?”
“You work as an accountant in the back of a rundown Chinese restaurant. You barely make more than minimum wage, and you’re behind on your car payment.”
“Nice. Does that make you happy? You made it big and I’m at rock bottom. Have your laughs, Drake. You certainly didn’t hold back in school.” Her eyes filled with unshed tears. The shade of blue reminded him of the water in Turks and Caicos.
He uncrossed her arms, holding them by her sides. “I’m not trying to be an asshole. I guess I’m failing at that, but I’ll try harder.”
Then Drake grabbed the papers from his cabinet before she changed her mind completely. He waved them up for her to see, then placed them on his desk next to a pen.
She huffed and walked to the desk, snatching the pen. What surprised him was that she signed before even reading the four-page document.
“There, it’s done. Now what?”
This wasn’t how he wanted their relationship to start out, but he supposed he deserved all her anger and bitterness. She wasn’t like the women he usually dealt with, which was the point. He had everything he wanted before today, except her.
He took the signed papers and locked them into his cabinet. “Have a seat. I’ll make some calls and see that your brother’s off the hook.”
Mira exhaled, taking a seat. She looked visibly calmer. “Can you fix his broken legs?”
He didn’t bother answering her. The girl was full of vitriol and would be for some time, he imagined. Little did she know how much it turned him on.
As she listened, Drake made the calls to ensure his hitmen were no longer following Nigel. His dues were cleared in full and he even took care of the pawnshop’s debts.
He rubbed his hands together when it was all done. “You see, I keep my promises.” It had been a long fucking day, and he just wanted to get home. He spent way too many hours in the office, but keeping busy was what he did to keep the demons at bay.
Drake shrugged on his suit jacket and grabbed his briefcase and laptop.
“Time to go, Mira.”
“Where are we going?”
“Home. My home. Time for you to start paying off this debt to me.” He winked at her, but she wasn’t amused. Fire and ice, a sexy fucking combination.
They took the elevator down to the parking level. She stayed close, but not too close.
He held the door of his silver Bentley open. She stared at him before stepping in to sit on the passenger seat. “I do have manners,” he said. “I’m not the animal you make me out to be.”
Once behind the steering wheel, he started up the engine and began the short drive home. The interior of the car was incredibly silent. He knew she had a lot to say but refused to speak to him.
After driving for a while, she finally decided to speak. “Why were you so mean to me in school?”
He was surprised to hear her voice.
“That was a long time ago, Mira.”
“Well, it’s shaped me into who I am today. It may not have meant much to you, but you hurt me a lot. Being dyslexic was a nightmare for me. You made it so much worse.”
“I was an idiot back then. I had a lot of anger built up.”
“How was that my fault?”
He took a breath, feeling like shit. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Drake didn’t want to share the shitty details of his life story. He had to own up to his behavior now that he was an adult. He’d stopped blaming his childhood a long time ago. But back then, he was busy spreading hate and pain because it was all he received at home. His parents enjoyed using him as a punching bag when they were drunk. They were never not drunk. He was constantly pulled out and shoved back in by Children’s Services. No one cared to look too deeply. There was no one to save him. His parents really fucked him up, and it was the reason he vowed never to have a family of his own. In his mind, family wasn’t a good word. It represented suffering, confinement, anger … and sadness.
“You had no right,” she said.
“Sometimes people act like assholes because they don’t know how to be good people. No one taught them right from wrong.”
He pulled into the underground parking lot of his condo, cutting the engine. Silence blanketed the interior of the car.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying if I could do things over, I would have treated you like a queen, Mira. I was
fucked up. Most days at school I was running on a couple hours of sleep, no food, and carrying a lot of fucking baggage from the night before.”
“Your parents were bad to you?”
“We should head upstairs.”
She looked at her lap. “I didn’t know any of that.”
“I kept it all pent-up, but later, that suffering fueled me to make something of my life. I wanted the power I never had. Money. Real Estate. Women.”
She nodded. “You’ve made it. You’re the envy of most men.”
“No, you’re wrong, Mira.” He turned to face her, using a finger under her chin to capture her full attention. “It’s lonely at the top. I’ve been so busy trying to be the best at everything that I forgot about the really important things.”
“Oh?”
“I looked you up. Found out about your brother. I know it was wrong, but the only good thing I could remember in my life was you, Mira.”
“Now you own me. What next? Men like you are never satisfied.”
“What I really want, I can’t buy.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Your love. I used your brother to get you to sign my contract because without it, you’d never be here.”
“You’re right, I wouldn’t be.”
He’d had enough talking. Keeping things bottled up had always worked best for him, pushing him to succeed.
They made their way over to the private elevators. He pushed the button for the penthouse suite.
“Since we’re sharing, I guess you should know something about me.”
The elevator dinged and they stepped out onto his floor. There were only four units on the penthouse level. He unlocked his condo and held open the door for her.
“When are you going to tell me?”
She stepped inside his expansive foyer, looking around in awe. Then she stopped to face him. “You didn’t do your research very well. If you were looking for a baby-making machine, you probably should have chosen another woman. I know I’m thirty, but I don’t have much experience when it comes to sex.”