Claimed By Him: (Contemporary Romance Box Set)

by Alexis Winter

  I stand and wrap a towel around myself as I turn off the jets and drain the tub. After I dry off, I lather my body in expensive products and pull on a pair of underwear and a t-shirt before slipping into bed. The soft mattress and silk sheets feel like heaven on my skin, and it only takes minutes before I’m in a deep, dreamless sleep.

  “Samantha? It’s time to wake up,” Cameron says, shaking my leg.

  “No. Go away,” I mumble, pulling the pillows closer to my body as I curl myself into a ball.

  “We have a flight to catch. Come on. Wake up,” he tries again just before the light flicks on and blinds me.

  I quickly cover my eyes and throw the blanket over my head.

  “You really think that’s going to work?” he asks, tugging the blanket down my body.

  He goes silent and we both freeze. I’m only in a t-shirt and my underwear, and judging from the cold air on my stomach and breasts, my shirt has worked its way up.

  “Uhh, sorry about that,” he says, dropping the blanket.

  Hearing the nervousness in his voice makes me laugh, and I remove my arm from my eyes. “What’s the matter, Cam? You’re not scared of a little nudity, are you?”

  He clears his throat. “Not at all. Just not wanting to get sued, that’s all.”

  I push myself into a sitting position and adjust my shirt as I throw my legs off the bed. “Sued? Who’s suing?”

  “Nudity isn’t in our contract, or have you forgotten?”

  I stand up, causing my shirt to fall down around my thighs so no bits are showing, and walk toward the bathroom. “I haven’t forgotten, but there are always amendments, Counselor,” I tease, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door between us.

  Since I took a bath last night, I quickly wash my face in the sink and have a seat at the vanity to fix my hair and makeup. Today is the day I have to look like some rich bitch who’s reeled in the big fish.

  While the curling iron heats up, I begin by putting on some moisturizer and primer. I add a little of everything on the vanity before me: foundation, concealer, blush, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and false lashes. Finally, I use the powder contouring kit and finish everything off with some setting spray. My eyes are darkly lined, and the fake lashes make me appear seductive and sexy. My tan skin is glowing with all the money I’ve rubbed into it.

  I quickly curl my hair and fluff it to look thick and full. I step into my empty bedroom and into the walk-in closet. I know the airplane will be cold, but I don’t want to be greeted by the man I need to impress looking like I’m going skiing for the weekend. I pull on a pair of form-fitting skinny jeans and a pair of knee-high boots. I sort through the clothes until I find a long white and cream sweater. It’s appealing but not in an overtly sexual manner; I can’t afford to offend Cameron’s new clients. Stepping out of the closet, I grab my new purse and look myself over.

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I came from money. Maybe not “holy shit, she’s rich,” but upper-middle class—still higher up than I am. With a shrug, I turn away from the full-length mirror and rub Cocoa’s head.

  “I’m off, Cocoa. I’ll see you next week, girl.” I give her a few pats—not wanting to get fur all over my new clothes. I kiss her quickly, then leave the room. Heading down the stairs, I find Cameron back in his neatly pressed suit at the bottom of the stairs. Suddenly, I’m again nervous I might be underdressed. He’s talking to another man, and our bags are scattered around him. Finally, he looks up and our eyes meet. That fire is burning bright this morning.

  “Samantha.” He greets me with a smile, but I can see his eyes look me over like I’m something tempting to devour. This man really can’t control himself with women.

  “Good morning. What’s for breakfast?” I ask, turning to look into the dining room.

  “We don’t have time to sit and eat this morning, but if you head into the kitchen, I’m sure they can whip up something to go.”

  “I’ve already handled it, Mr. Styles,” the maid says, walking through the swinging door with a brown paper bag held out.

  I take it from her with a smile and a thank you, then walk past Cameron to head out to the car. I climb into the back seat and open the bag to find a homemade breakfast sandwich: ham, egg, and cheese on a fresh croissant. I waste no time in taking my first bite and I moan audibly as the flavors engulf my taste buds.

  Cameron slides into the seat next to me with a quiet laugh. “Here. I figured you might need something to wash that down with.” He hands over a paper cup full of freshly brewed coffee.

  “Thank you,” I mumble around my food, taking the cup and placing it in the cup holder at my side. “You skipping breakfast?”

  “I had some yogurt and fruit this morning,” he tells me. “It doesn’t take a miracle to get me out of bed in the morning.” He gives me a sidelong glance.

  I give him a mocking smile but ignore his comment with another big bite of my sandwich. “You’re one of those no-carb guys, huh? Is that how you keep your six-pack?”

  “And how do you know I have a six-pack?”

  I swallow down my bite of sandwich while shrugging, “I don’t. I just assumed it since you have a full gym in your house.”

  “Well, yes, I do tend to watch what I eat pretty severely. Just another way I practice discipline in my life.”

  It doesn’t take long to get to the airport and shuffle about until we’re on our plane. The moment I step into that cool, dry air, my spine stiffens.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, bumping his shoulder against mine.

  “Nothing,” I answer all too quickly.

  He snickers. “Are you a nervous flyer?”

  My eyes flash over to him. “No, why would you ask that?”

  He motions toward my hands, which are latched onto the armrests like my life depends on it.

  I press my lips together and force myself to ease up. “There,” I say, placing my hands in my lap.

  “Have you never flown before?”

  “I have. Once, but I was only two. My mom insisted on flying to Chicago to visit with her family before my dad passed away,” I admit.

  He turns so his body is facing me. “Let me show you a little trick.” He picks up my hands and gently massages both of them. “Now, lay your head back and close your eyes.”

  I do as he says, and already, I can feel myself relaxing.

  “Listen to my voice. Listen to your heart and slow it down. Focus on your breathing, Samantha. Breathe in deeply through your nose, and let it out slowly through your mouth.” The entire time he’s talking, his hands are massaging mine, up my forearm, all the way to my stiff shoulders. I relax into his touch, and his fingertips feel like they’re going to burn through my sweater. I can feel the tingle building between my thighs as I involuntarily press them together.

  Finally, it feels like I can breathe again, and my eyes pop open, landing on his. They’re so dark and intense, I find myself getting lost in them. Something between us thickens, and he wets his lips. My muscles tighten back up, ready and waiting to see if those lips are as soft as they look. I run my tongue across my bottom lip, hoping he accepts the invitation. He begins leaning forward, and my heart picks back up, pounding harder than before.

  “Excuse me, would you like anything to drink before we take off?” a flight attendant asks, interrupting.

  Cameron pulls away and shakes his head clear of his thoughts. “No, we’re fine. Thank you,” he tells her, dropping my hands and turning to face forward in his seat. “Did that help ease your mind?” he asks, refusing to look at me.

  I clear my throat. “Yeah, all good,” I agree, turning to look out my window. I wish I would have taken that drink from the flight attendant. I could use an ice-cold beverage to cool down my burning cheeks.

  Neither of us says a word as the plane begins to move. We don’t look at each other or touch. His arm is on the armrest between our seats, and my hands are in my lap with my elbows tucked in. I know all it would take is a brush of his
arm against mine, and I’d be in his lap with my lips pressed to his. One kiss, and I’d be dying to join the mile high club. I need to keep my attention elsewhere. I need my head on straight. I need to get through this job in one piece.

  We’ve been on the plane for an hour before he finally breaks the silence. “This movie is absolutely the worst thing I’ve ever seen.” He pulls off his headphones and drops them in his lap.

  I pull my eyes away from the window. “I gave up on it twenty minutes ago. It’s no Fried Green Tomatoes, that’s for sure,” I say with a laugh as I turn to look at him.

  The second our eyes connect again, I feel that strange pull inside my stomach—the one that’s pulling and pushing me to reach out and kiss him.

  He must feel it too, because he clears his throat and turns his head, opting to wave over a flight attendant to order drinks.

  Chapter 10

  Cameron

  Sitting this close to her and not allowing myself to touch her is causing this weird feeling to consume me. The tension between us seems to thicken—so thick now, I can practically see it and touch it. Every time I allow myself to look over at her, she gives me this look that lights a fire in my stomach. It blazes hot and out of control, scorching me, branding me. Her big blue eyes are like an ocean—deep and containing secrets I’m dying to discover. While the color of them could make one think of coldness, I know it’s the complete opposite. When I look into her eyes, I feel the fire in her soul, the warmth of her touch, and the heat she holds in her heart.

  That fire she seems to hide from everyone touched me today, and it pushed me to lean in and want to press my lips against hers. Would she have allowed it? For a split second, it felt like she would. It seemed that fire raging in my stomach burned us both—like it finally grew to be too much for me, and it escaped any way it could. She was close enough that she could feel the heat.

  As much as I want to claim her body, I know I have to keep myself in check. If we get together, it won’t be some random act of passion. It will be thought out and discussed with no expectation of a future. She knows my reputation—that I’m not the white-picket-fence guy you bring home to mom. I won’t pretend to be something I’m not. Hell, I’ll make up another contract if she wishes. But until she says the words, I won’t allow myself to get wrapped up in her any more than I already am. Right now, it’s just a possibility, a tease. I want her because I know I can’t have her. But the moment she tells me she wants me too, everything holding me back will snap, leaving me with no self-control.

  I keep my focus on the magazine in my hands, or the movie playing on the screen, or by just looking around and taking in my surroundings. Sam reads a book and listens to some music. Neither of us seems to know what is going on between us, and I think we’re both afraid to find out. We don’t push to fill the silence. Instead, we both stick to ourselves and pretend there’s nothing beneath the surface. But I think we both know there is. How long can we ignore it?

  When the flight lands, we gather our bags and head for the main doors. I look up and notice a man with a sign that reads MR. STYLES.

  I place my hand on Sam’s lower back and nod in his direction. “This must be our ride,” I tell her.

  She nods once and straightens her back, raising her chin as if she’s putting on her game face.

  We close the distance and I hold out my hand. “Good afternoon. I’m Cameron Styles.”

  He smiles and shakes my hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Styles. I’m Jake. I’ll be delivering you to Mr. Smithfield’s estate this morning.”

  “Lead the way,” I tell him, motioning with my arm for him to walk ahead of us.

  I reach out and take Sam’s hand in mine as we follow him out the doors and into the parking lot. He opens the back door of a blacked-out SUV and takes our bags as we climb inside.

  After our bags are loaded into the back, he climbs behind the wheel and pulls out into traffic.

  “How was your flight?”

  “It wasn’t too bad—quick and no turbulence,” I reply.

  He offers up a smile I can see in the mirror. “Mr. Smithfield has the guest house all prepared for you. Is there anywhere you’d like to stop along the way? Something to eat or drink? Everything is on Mr. Smithfield, of course.”

  I raise my hand to wave off the idea, but Sam speaks up. “Could we stop by Starbucks?”

  I turn and look at her with a smile.

  She shrugs. “It’s getting close to lunch and I need a pick-me-up. That flight sucked the life out of me.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Jake drives a short distance, then pulls into a Starbucks drive-through. She orders a white chocolate mocha, then we’re back on our way. We make our way around the city and into the suburbs where there is a big gated community. He drives further until he slows down and pulls up to a cast-iron fence securing a big brick wall. He taps his key card and the gates open. When the massive five-story house comes into view, Sam takes a loud breath of amazement. It is an impressive home, but I’m not fazed. Sure, my house isn’t this big, but I’ve seen bigger and better. The house I grew up in was this size, so this is nothing for me.

  Instead of stopping at the main house, he drives deeper into the property. The grass looks lush and green, and the landscaping is perfectly planned. Through the trees, bushes, and flowers, I can see a swimming pool and a tennis court. Finally, he comes to a stop directly in front of the guest house. It’s a small two-story brick house with apple-red farmhouse shutters and flowers planted along the front.

  “This is so cute,” Sam says, stepping out of the car.

  “It’s very nice,” I reply, again not fazed. I would’ve much rather stayed at a five-star hotel where there’s room service and private massages. I’m not exactly keen on hospitality or staying in someone else’s home. I prefer my space and privacy.

  The driver grabs our bags and shows us into the house. He places our bags on the floor, then turns to address us.

  “Mr. Smithfield would like to give you the day to settle in. He has invited you to the main house tonight at seven for dinner. The kitchen and liquor cabinet are fully stocked, and he’d like for you two to make yourselves at home. If there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to call the main house. The number is by the phone.”

  “Thank you,” I tell him as I follow him to the door. I close it behind him and turn to find Sam walking slowly around the house.

  “This is amazing.”

  I snort. “What’s so special about it? My place is better than this.” I walk into the living room and sit down, cringing as I realize how pompous and arrogant my words must sound. I don’t know why I care so much about impressing Sam and trying to prove myself to her.

  “Yeah, but your place is a mansion. This is just a regular house, but it’s so nice.” She spins around to face me. “I call master bedroom!” she shouts, running up the stairs. I can hear her feet pounding down the hallway above me.

  I laugh and stand, following after her. When I get upstairs, I find her standing in the doorway to a bedroom.

  “What’s the matter?” I ask, coming up behind her.

  “There’s only one bedroom,” she replies quietly.

  I frown. “That can’t be,” I mumble, walking down the hall and opening doors. I find a bathroom, an office with a fully-stocked library, and a room that’s been converted into a large walk-in closet with built-in dressers and a vanity.

  I walk back into the bedroom, shaking my head. “I can’t believe this. This could be a three-bedroom house, but they turned the other bedrooms into useless rooms.” A part of me feels like this is a trap—like Mr. Smithfield wanted to make damn sure we shared a bed. Anger burns in my chest at the deceit of it all, even though I know I’m being ridiculous.

  “What are we going to do?” Sam asks, flopping down on the bed. “I guess I could sleep on the couch.”

  I shake my head and sit down beside her. “You can’t sleep on that thing for a week. You won’t be able to wal
k. I’ll sleep on the couch,” I volunteer.

  She waves her hand through the air. “No, this is silly. I mean, we’re both adults here. We can sleep in the same bed. It’s not like either of us has cooties or something.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask, a little fearful.

  She nods. “It’ll be fine. It’s only for a few days.”

  “I know you’re mean when you wake up, but how are you with sleeping? Are you going to beat the shit out of me?” I ask around a grin.

  She bumps my shoulder with hers. “Guess we’ll find out.” She flashes me a smile.

  I laugh and shake my head. “I guess we will.” I stand to gain some distance. I have a feeling that’s something I won’t get much of while we’re here. “I’ll go down and get our bags. We don’t want our things to wrinkle.”

  I run downstairs and grab our bags, bringing them back up so we can begin putting our things away. I hang up my suits in the small bedroom closet, but Sam takes hers to the big walk-in closet. Once everything is put away, we meet in the living room.

  “Now what? We still have several hours until dinner,” she says, flopping down on the couch.

  “Well, he did mention a fully-stocked liquor cabinet.”

  Her head slowly turns in my direction as a smile forms.

  We both stand and start searching downstairs for said cabinet.

  “Found it!” Sam yells from the kitchen.

  I push my way through the door and find her bringing out bottles.

  “What’ll it be?” She looks at me. “Scotch man, right?”

  I offer a half smile and nod my head as I grab two glasses and sit at the table.

  She takes down the bottle of Scotch and sits across from me. “Oh, I have an idea. Let’s play a drinking game.”

  I begin pouring a little in both glasses. “What kind of drinking game?”

  “We’ll take turns asking personal questions. If you don’t want to answer a question, you drink.”