Caught: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (His Domination Book 2)
Page 12
Chapter 11
The Princess And The Dragon
“A girl could get used to living like this.” Monica rolled over in bed, extending her arm so she touched Henry’s wrist.
He got up from where he sat, his clothes mostly on but his tie still dangling around his neck. “Used to living like what?” Henry stood up straight, folding his tie this way, that, and then looping it downward. Naked or dressed like that, I’ll eat him alive. His navy blue trousers made Monica want to fling back the bed covers and remind him that she was naked.
And sore, but the sweet way Henry took care of her after their long night was almost as good as the sex itself. His tender touches, his kisses to her aching flesh, and the way he massaged her tiny bruises took her to a place of peace that she had yet to experience in such a long time.
“Used to living like a queen.”
“Not a princess?”
“I believe you were calling me a queen of wolves before a princess. Which is it?”
He bent down and kissed her cheek. Aftershave already on, he smelled like the million dollars he carried in his pocket at any moment. I don’t really care about the money, but I care about the money. Money was security. Money meant a certain lifestyle could be maintained. Money meant Henry could do what he did while Monica lay naked in his bed all morning.
“Depends on the day. You’re either about to bite someone or beg to be rescued. I follow the patterns.”
Monica sighed. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’ll be back by lunch. Until then, there’s biscuits and tea in the other room. If you get hungry or need anything else, you’re free to call the butler. He’ll take care of you.”
“Not as good as you do.”
Henry scoffed and adjusted his cuffs. “Thank God. I’d have to fire him then.” His wink sent ripples of heat through Monica’s body. “He shouldn’t be going through my stuff like that.”
Monica sat up, keeping the comforter around her body – not that she was shy about showing Henry what he had seen many times by now. “Am I your stuff?”
“No. I was thinking of the crops and whips and whatever the hell else I’ve got hiding around here.”
He shrugged into his jacket and gave Monica one more kiss. “I’ve got video calls to make in my office a few doors down. When I get done, we’ll go have lunch in the back gardens. You’ll like them.”
Biting her lip, Monica rolled onto her stomach and huddled beneath the comforter. “Or I could stay right here.”
“Whatever you want, lovely.”
Henry patted her through the comforter before departing his quarters. The door closed gently behind him and locked – on the outside. Monica could easily unlock it. They weren’t playing any games today. Not yet, anyway.
Monica remained in bed for another fifteen minutes, enjoying the comfort and the sweet sunshine coming through the bedroom window. Even though Henry’s bed probably wasn’t any better than hers in the Château, it somehow seemed better. Probably because it was his. And smelled like him.
Eventually she had to get up, especially when she remembered that there was tea waiting in the other room. Monica pushed herself out of bed and searched for her red silk robe in her overnight bag. Once it was on she fluffed out her hair – now devoid of her curls – and went looking for the goodies.
The tea was Earl Grey, and the biscuits were, well, English. Monica poured herself a cup and took a biscuit to the nearest couch. She debated turning on the TV, but instead picked up her cell phone and read a message from Judith saying that everything went smoothly the prior night without her.
She called the first person to come to mind.
“If you’re calling me at ten on a Saturday morning, then something must be up.” Ethan sounded like he was halfway through his first cup of coffee. “So, what’s up?”
Monica brushed biscuit crumbs off her lap. “The best day of my life.”
“Congratulations. Dare I ask why?”
“Because…” Monica blushed, even though nobody was there to see her embarrassment. “I think I’m in love.”
The silence on the other end made her wonder if Ethan was about to chastise her. “With that Warren fellow?”
“Henry Warren, yes.”
“I see.”
“Ethan.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“You sure you aren’t jealous?”
“Why would I be jealous? Besides, I’d be a hypocrite if I told you not to go around falling in love all willy-nilly.”
“Indeed. Yet I feel like there’s a but coming on.”
“No buts. Just that… I did some digging on your boyfriend.”
“Of course you did.”
Whatever Ethan was eating, it probably wasn’t as good as these English biscuits. “Don’t know what you want me to say. He is beyond boring. No wonder I couldn’t remember him. Man sequesters himself in offices and signs off on buyouts and sells. Bunch of money simmering in the stock market and property investments.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“You know me, Monica. I like people who are go-getters and start innovative businesses. Seems your Mr. Warren saves all his innovations for the bedroom, not the boardroom.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“Again, I’m happy for you.” The line crackled. Where was he going? “His whole family is boring, minus some events his father was involved in a long time ago. Oh, and I have it on good authority that Ms. Evangeline Warren has left a string of broken hearts and thighs in her wake. I suggest you don’t go falling for her Sapphic charms.”
“If your gay receptionist can’t fall for them, then I think I’m safe.” Eva wasn’t her type anyway.
“Regardless, I am happy for you. You deserve all the happiness and spankings in the world, my dear.”
“Don’t get me riled up again. Don’t think my current boyfriend would appreciate my ex doing that.”
“If he has a problem with me, he can come find me in the boardroom.”
“Ah, the pissing contests of the elite.”
“Better than drawing blood.”
Monica almost told him about the knife from the night before, but thought better of it. Instead she said, “Like how you and Jackson used to fight about nothing all the time?”
“Don’t go bringing him up. You need to stop thinking about him.”
She frowned for the first time in many hours. “It’s not that easy. Even with Henry, I am always thinking about him.”
“You’ll find that it goes away after a while.”
“How would you know?”
Ethan sighed. “Because it has to be true.”
They hung up a minute later, Monica promising to do her best to stop thinking of Jackson. Besides, she was in Henry’s manor. Nothing could touch her here.
She rose from the couch and took her tea to the window overlooking the front courtyard of the mansion. Across the way was the West Wing, where Eva lived – and currently stood on a balcony looking at the same courtyard as Monica.
Their eyes never met. Whatever Eva was looking at was more interesting than looking into the windows of her brother’s quarters.
Monica sipped her tea as Eva disappeared into the house.
And as a nondescript car pulled in from the driveway.
The driver remained inside until Eva showed up in the grand entrance. She stood, perched like a disapproving mother watching her teen’s walk of shame after a late night of partying. Between the hair, the body-hugging suit, and the stark makeup on her face, she even intimidated Monica.
Nobody intimidated Monica as much as the man stepping out of the parked car.
She dropped her empty teacup onto the carpet.
Her heart stopped in her chest.
Jackson Lyle closed the door, his hat slicing through the air as he approached the front steps to Warren Manor. Eva remained in place, nose turned up in the air.
M
onica couldn’t hear what they said in greeting to one another. She didn’t want to know.
She held herself to the edge of the window, wishing to be seeing things. But Monica knew every angle of Jackson Lyle. She knew the way he stood, the way he carried himself when he thought he impressed somebody. That was him. Jackson, in his pastel suit and hands in his back pocket.
Eva said something and turned back into the house. Jackson took one step forward before glancing up toward the East Wing.
Monica ducked behind a curtain, but she was too late.
He saw her. The smile spreading across his face like a plague confirmed it.
When he entered the house, Monica did the first thing she thought of. Namely making sure the doors were locked and that nobody would come for her, least of all someone like Jackson.
There was no time to contemplate why he was there. Why there. Why the Warrens.
Did Henry know about this?
Monica collapsed onto the floor and debated between trust and flight.
Did she trust Henry? Should she run for her life? For her sanity?
All she could do was cry and wish she never got out of that bed.
To be continued in Part 3, HEALED.
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