21 Mia

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 wineglass 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 in 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 his 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.