Chained to You (Bounded and Contracted #1; Dark Billionaire #1-2)

by Alexia Praks

  “Table for two,” the billionaire said firmly.

  “Of course, sir.” He showed us to a lone table that boasted a great view of the city. The restaurant was dimly lit, so I was grateful my sorry state of dress didn’t gain too much attention.

  I glanced around me, noting the big plates of delicious fare on almost every table. Steak, potatoes, pasta, steamed fish, risotto, salad. I hugged myself, suddenly feeling sad and sorry. I wanted to eat. But I was sure they cost the moon. I’d just have to sit and wait for this heartless billionaire to finish his meal so I could phone my brother.

  The maître de returned, asking for drink orders. I ignored him, and more so the billionaire, who looked right at home here, ordering wine in French.

  “A very good choice, sir,” the maître de replied.

  I shut my mind and sank into despair when the man returned with an expensive bottle of wine. He expertly poured some into a crystal glass for the Maxwell to taste. When the powerful man nodded, the maître de poured more. Then he turned to my side of the table and began pouring into mine as well.

  I blinked as I watched the white liquid dance in the glass before me, luring me in for a taste. I clamped my lips tighter and glanced at James. A brow rose as the Prussian-blue eyes directed their gaze toward me. I could tell he found my reaction amusing.

  When the maître de left, I turned away and stared out at the beautiful view instead, avoiding that intense gaze that caused my heart to skip a beat.

  “What are you having?” he asked.

  Surprised, I turned my attention back to him. He was looking over the menu.

  “I’m not hungry,” I said.

  My tummy, however, betrayed my lie by making a loud grumbling noise indicating I was indeed otherwise. Even though I’d just had some dinner—if one could call one tiny hamburger and a small soda a meal—I was still hungry. Food and I were the best of friends, except this best friend of mine kept deserting me when I needed it most. Of course, growing up poor wasn’t fun, and I would wholeheartedly dispute anyone who claimed otherwise.

  James rested the menu on the table and leaned back in his seat, observing me. Silence descended, and I felt uncomfortable. His hot gaze seared me as my eyes concentrated on the city below, trying to ignore him. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the maître de returned, asking for his order.

  “Steak for me,” he said. “And the salmon and pasta for the lady.”

  I blinked and turned to him. My shock must have shown because I noted the satisfied smirk on his face.

  “Drink your wine, Mia,” he directed gently.

  “I’m broke!” I blurted out. “I’ll be even more broke by Friday.”

  “I see,” he said. “I assume you’ve decided?”

  “I told you I’d get the two million. Somehow, some way.” A lump formed in my throat because I knew I was lying through my teeth.

  “Good luck with that,” he said. “I hope you realize how fruitless it is for a young woman of your experience—or should I say inexperience—to find such a sum in two days.”

  I fisted my hands and refused to back down. I was harshly taught to be independent by my aunt and uncle since I was twelve, after my wonderful parents had died. It was hard to suddenly accept this billionaire’s offer, especially one such as this, becoming his mistress, completely dependent on him financially, totally secure and safe. Meanwhile, all I had to do was…

  I couldn’t even think further. Yes, Mr. James Maxwell was every girl’s dream man. Heck, he was even mine. In fact, he was just my type—the dark hair, the blue eyes, the angular features, the toned muscles, and the tall, lean figure. I was very attracted to him, and I would definitely go out on a date with him in a heartbeat if the circumstances were completely different, if the circumstances were normal. But this was anything but normal.

  I leaned forward and looked him straight in the eyes, a lovely fake smile playing across my face. I wanted to be a little sarcastic, but I knew I was terrible at playing the bitch. In fact, I could never because it wasn’t my nature.

  “Then won’t you be so kind as to give me some suggestions?” I asked.

  His eyes immediately drifted to my breasts. I felt the hot, intense gaze, and my core twisted into a frenzy of heat. Instantly, I was a little annoyed—first at how easily he could affect me, and secondly, because he was bloody persistent to have what he wanted, which was me in his bed as his mistress for five years. Why five years? Wouldn’t he get tired of me in a couple months? Wasn’t five years a bit too long?

  I bit my lip and said tightly, “Anything but that.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “A pity.”

  I flashed my gaze to his, challenging him. “Is that all you ever think about?”

  “No,” came his direct reply. “I spend most of my time thinking about business. Innovative ways to multiply profits. Do you realize you can really grow money if you put your mind to it?”

  At my blank look, he laughed. He leaned forward and, with his eyes looking deep into mine, he said, “But with you? Yes.”

  I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to know why he was so insistent on having me. It was so confusing. I was the girl no one noticed. I’d been invisible in high school and was still invisible at work. I was told to stay away from the front of house in the restaurant because I wasn’t pretty enough to serve customers. I knew I wasn’t attractive because guys had never asked me out on dates. Because guys never looked twice at me. So why did James Maxwell want me?

  “Why me? Why not other girls… women? Beautiful women. I mean the real pretty ones… The ones that know how to please you. They’re excellent at what they do. I wouldn’t know how to do it properly. I mean…”

  Oh God! I didn’t even know how to put this into words. I felt hot and flustered and very embarrassed.

  He laughed again, deep and thick, rumbling from within his chest. It caused a delicious tingle along my spine.

  When he stopped, he was staring at the wine glass before him. I thought he wasn’t going to answer my question when he caught my wrist and pulled me forward. He placed both his large, warm hands over mine and then turned my hand over as if to inspect it closely. He was stroking my palm and then my finger, linking and intertwining mine with his. It was mesmerizing, drawing me in like a moth to a flame, making me lose my sensibility.

  When I managed to snap myself from his allure, I drew my hand back, only to be held captive once again. His grip was firmer this time, making sure I wouldn’t be able to escape.

  “Your hand is so small,” he said softly. His eyes flicked to me as he continued. “I wonder if it could manage to wrap around my—”

  I yanked my hand back before he could finish his sentence. Shoving the chair back, I hoisted myself up, only to find myself being pulled to the place I most wanted to escape. I was on his lap within a blink of an eye, his arm firmly around me. I had no way to break free.

  He leaned closer and whispered, “Why you, Mia? Because I’m interested in you. You’ll be a fascinating bedmate. You have a good body, Mia, very obedient. I can tell when I touch you, when I kiss you.”

  I felt the warmth of his breath caressing my ear and shivered deliciously. Oddly enough, he was right. My body responded to his every touch, his every word, his every suggestion. I found I couldn’t move. I was mesmerized by the low hum of his voice, enticing me into a dangerous, seductive trap. Perhaps I didn’t want to escape.

  “I wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you along the street.”

  The confession made me blush and my core heated with a desire so strong I thought I’d probably go mad.

  “But I…” I managed to squeak out. “I have no experience.”

  “I don’t want experience, Mia,” he said softly. “You’ll be doing everything I tell you to. Obeying my every command. I’ll teach you everything I know.”

  I eased my struggle and turned my eyes to him. “I’d be very horrible at it. I mean, I’ll be a horrible student. And I’m not pretty
. And I’m a virgin. You need a really beautiful woman who has experience in these things. Isn’t that what you billionaires like?”

  He raised a brow at me. “I don’t like sharing my toys, Mia. I like mine squeaky clean. Why would I want someone who’s been fucked by so many other men when I can have a brand spanking new one no one has ever touched or tasted before?”

  He spoke about me like I was one of his brand new cars. I bet every car he’d ever owned was new and no one had ever even test driven it before either. This, of course, pissed me off. I didn’t want to be treated like his toy. I was a human being with real feelings. My anger over this behavior cooled my aroused body, and I became icy and stiff.

  He rested his hand against the side of my hip, branding my flesh with his touch.

  “Now then. What’s your decision, Mia?”

  I stared deep into his eyes. He was drawing me in, and I knew my resistance was weakening.

  I was about to utter something when the waiter appeared.

  “I have your orders,” he said, and I jumped. I turned to give him a small, apologetic smile. The man gave me a knowing grin.

  It was only when the waiter placed our dishes on the table that the billionaire allowed me to escape his clutches. I eagerly returned to my seat.

  The delicious smell of food caught my attention, and I turned my eyes longingly on the pasta.

  “Enjoy,” the waiter said and then left us.

  James dug right in. When he saw I just sat there staring at the food, he ordered me to eat. I did as told… and did so with enjoyment. The pasta was delicious, rich, and creamy. Between mouthfuls, I sipped the sweet wine. Together, they were heaven. When I was halfway through, I glanced up and caught Maxwell watching me with interest. Is he enjoying watching me eat? I wondered.

  “Why are you stopping?” he asked.

  “Why are you staring at me?” I shot back.

  “You look like you haven’t eaten for days.”

  “I haven’t,” I said, “been eating properly for days.”

  I glanced at his plate. He was already finished. I returned my attention to my own meal and continued. After swallowing a mouthful, I said, “Look somewhere else. The view is beautiful and interesting.”

  “I disagree,” he said.

  I took a big gulp of the wine and then popped in another mouthful of pasta. “All right, we agree to disagree. Now look somewhere else.”

  He didn’t reply, just continued to watch me. I resigned and continued enjoying my meal until my plate was empty. For the first time in years, I was happy and satisfied with the food served to me. Emotionally so. I didn’t feel like I wanted to eat anything more.

  But when he offered, “Dessert?” I couldn’t help myself.

  “Yes, please,” I replied eagerly with a bright smile on my face.

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER 11

  Mia

  “You can really eat, can’t you?” His deep timbre voice came my way. The tone hinted at humor, and I wondered if the billionaire found my fondness for food amusing.

  Of course, I couldn’t deny the fact that I loved food. Andy called me the “eating goddess” because of how much I could really put in, despite my slim, willowy frame.

  I licked my spoon clean, savoring the warm, soft brownie and the cold, creamy ice cream within my mouth. I licked my lips, a smile on my face. When I glanced up, I saw James watching me intensely, as if he found my reaction very fascinating. I, in turn, felt butterflies within my stomach.

  I placed the spoon down onto the empty plate and said, “Thanks for dinner.”

  James cocked his head to one side and smiled. It was a very handsome expression that snatched away my breath.

  “You’re welcome,” he said smoothly. “Shall we?”

  I watched as he stood, pulling on his jacket.

  The moment is here, I thought with a mixture of dread and relief. I’d be able to talk to Andy. Suddenly, my stomach didn’t feel well as I wondered how my brother faired.

  I waited while he made the payment. When I heard the price, my jaw dropped. I reminded myself Mr. James Maxwell was a billionaire, so that amount was nothing to him.

  When he turned, he grinned. Rather than feeling elated at my present circumstances, I was pissed.

  James grabbed me by the elbow and led me out of the restaurant. Outside, the cool night air brushed against my heated skin. But it didn’t last long, as James proceed to once again place his large hand about the nape of my neck. What was with him? I wasn’t going to run away, for God’s sake. He didn’t need to keep such close tabs on me. After all, I had a brother to save.

  I glared up at him to express my annoyance. He was ignoring me, of course. To make conversation, I asked, “How did Andy come to owe you two million?”

  He raised a brow and then smiled again. “Do you want to know the details?”

  He sounded amused. His words implies I shouldn’t. Honestly, I had no idea how business, especially one as dark and as deep as this one, worked.

  “How?” I persisted.

  “Gambling,” he said bluntly.

  I frowned. “But Andy doesn’t gamble. He doesn’t even know how.”

  He laughed, which caused my body to tingle. I shivered a little in reaction.

  He tightened his hold on me. “Are you cold?”

  “No,” I replied. “Andy doesn’t gamble.”

  James sighed and raised his face to the sky, his eyes closed. “No, he doesn’t. But his friends did.”

  I felt sick. Andy’s friends. The friends he’d been talking about before he’d left Mystic Spring to come here?

  “He’s just a kid,” I said.

  “So are you.” He chuckled, his eyes on me. I saw something akin to admiration in those Prussian irises that never ceased to fascinate me.

  He was right, of course. Even though I was twenty-two, I was still a kid in James Maxwell’s world. A toddler still trying to find my feet.

  My mind flicked to Andy, wondering how on earth he’d managed to get himself involved with these people. Such as it were, my mind drifted as James led me to his car. With the handsome man close to me, I started imagining all sorts of shady scenarios as to how my brother became involved with these business moguls, especially this Mr. James Maxwell.

  Suddenly, I felt James’s hold on me tighten and his stance became tense, as if he sensed danger. My body stiffened with alertness, and I became nervous all of a sudden.

  James pulled me along with him as he paced quickly to the car. I glanced up with concern. Even though I’d only met him today and knew hardly anything about him at all, I still understood basic human body language. And the expression I saw on James’s face and the dark atmosphere I sensed around him scared the shit out of me. His features were firm and dark and those eyes of his were flashing an intense fire of blue.

  I wanted to ask him what was going on when I heard the screeching of rubber against asphalt. The noise was so horrendous that I jumped at the same time James tightened his hand on my neck. Instantly, I felt myself being hauled forward. My body slammed against the rigidity of Maxwell, his arms tight around me, my face snuggled against his massive chest. His smell—pure maleness—engulfed me, as well as his warmth. I could feel the heat of his body radiating onto me, making me slightly dizzy and weak.

  I blinked and stared at his chest as he led me farther from the sounds of the cars. I wanted to ask him again what was going on when the vehicles veered straight at us. I jolted in panic and clutched to James for dear life. The sounds of wheels against concrete was loud in my ears as they came to a complete stop before us.

  James pulled me behind him, one hand holding tight about my arm. Somehow, I was glad for this, and I had no idea why—why I found his presence and his warmth so reassuring. Why I felt safe.

  The doors of the unwelcomed cars opened and out came men in black suits. They were the big, buff type that would scare the freaking daylights out of any innocent youth. They looked mean and ready to kill at
a moment’s notice. Were they someone’s bodyguards?

  I didn’t have to wait long to find out. One of them came to open a door belonging to a sleek, fancy car right in front of us. Black shoes and trousers appeared first. Then when the face of the person emerged, I sucked in my breath.

  Blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and aquiline features—this man was any girl’s hero in her fantasy world. He exuded an aura of mystery, power, and, most of all, danger.

  I felt myself shake a little as my eyes briefly met his. I gripped James’s shirt as my whole body trembled with something akin to both fear and awe. He must have noticed because he returned the grip, which was encouraging.

  The blond hunk paced toward us, his bodyguards expertly surrounding us, as if expecting some sort of fight.

  “James,” the hunky blond said smoothly.

  “William.” James returned the greeting coldly.

  “How’s your father doing?”

  “Fine,” James replied. “How about yours?”

  William laughed merrily, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. But those eyes, they told me something else. Something dark and dangerous. This hunk wasn’t to be messed with. I could sense the danger within him. Another shiver traveled up my spine. Once again, James must have notice my slight movement because he lightly stroked me, calming me with the warmth of his presence. I calmed and breathed slowly as I watched the cold exchange.

  “The old man is as remarkably healthy as ever I’m afraid,” William said with a sour look. Then he cocked his head to one side as he eyed me. Instantly, my heart leaped in dread. “Hello, sweetheart,” he greeted. “Mia Donovan, is it?”

  My throat went dry as dust, and I stared at him in fear. Oh God, he was such a beautiful creature. Beautiful, dangerous creature. I knew in my bones this guy would kill without remorse. And I had a vague feeling I was his target. Well, maybe not the killing part, but his target nonetheless.

  James lightly moved me farther behind him, hiding me from William’s view. He chuckled and then said, “What interest do you have in my woman?”