28 Mia

When I woke the next morning, it was bright, the sun just rising across the horizon. I turned my head to my right. Instantly I sucked in a breath. The view before me was indeed spectacular. The city's buildings glittered like golden jewels beneath the glowing orange. I sat up, my eyes feasting on the sight before me with amazement.

"Beautiful." The voice reached me, and I jumped.

I turned my attention to the door and saw the man who had been on my mind the majority of last night.

"James." I voiced the name between my lips, my heart pounding within my chest. And it was so early in the morning too.

Well, to be honest, it was hard not to be nervous around him, especially with him wearing only a pair of tight jeans and nothing else. His hair was wet, so perhaps he'd just showered.

He came into the room. "I did knock," he said, placing a shirt on the bed. "But you were otherwise occupied." He grinned. "I had to check in on you."

In case the men snuck in and stole me away? I thought. Or I ran away? Then I thought both hypotheses were outlandish because the security was so tight in this building.

I nodded in understanding, very aware of my unpleasant appearance. I knew my hair and face were a mess. Feeling self-conscious, I pulled the blanket closer around me as though to hide myself from him. The fact that I was only wearing the I "heart" LA T-shirt and my undies didn't help my feelings of insecurity either, especially with him so near.

"I'm making some breakfast and coffee. Would you care to join me?"

Tentatively I nodded.

James smiled and got up from his spot on the bed. "All right. See you soon then. Oh, I noticed all your shirts are torn." He nodded to the new shirt on the bed. "It's probably too big for you, but it'll do for today." With that, he left the room.

Alone, I gazed at the shirt on the bed. It was a man's shirt. Mr. James Maxwell's shirt. My heart skipped a beat.

I pulled the duvet off me, jumped out of bed, and headed into the bathroom. Stripping myself naked, I headed into the shower and washed myself good. Once I was done, I got dressed in James's shirt and my only pair of jeans that was still intact and wearable. Indeed, his shirt was way too large for me, the hem almost down to my knees and the sleeves past my hands. To make it more suitable, I rolled up the sleeves and arranged the hem so it sat properly on me. Once done, I headed downstairs.

James had breakfast ready as I hopped onto a barstool. He placed a plate of hot toast with scrambled eggs and crispy bacon in front of me. Beside the plate was a cup of coffee.

"Thanks," I said, eyeing the meal, my mouth watering.

"No problem."

I heard the amusement in his voice. I couldn't help myself and had to glance up. Sure enough, he was watching me, his lips quirking up to one side.

I ignored him and began the meal. Hot, soft scrambled eggs melted in my mouth, combined with crispy bacon and, of course, toast. As I ate, I wondered how a billionaire like him could actually cook. Surely most couldn't. Since they always had their minions at their beck and call, doing things for them. And this billionaire should be the same, right? I didn't forget there was Ms. Lane, the prim and proper housekeeper, as well as the many maids back at his mansion. Surely he didn't have to lift a finger. He was born onto a silver platter.

"What's wrong?"

I swallowed the delicious food and lifted my head. "Excuse me?"

James chuckled. "You're frowning. My cooking not to your taste?"

I grabbed the mug of coffee and took a sip. After swallowing, I shook my head. "I'm just amazed you can cook. That's all."

He cocked his head to one side and then laughed. When he stopped, he leaned on the countertop, his face level with mine, his eyes staring deep into my own. I could never get used to that Prussian-blue color. Once again, the intensity took my breath away.

"Is it so rare, the likes of us cooking for ourselves?"

I licked my lips as his eyes bored deep in my own. "No, that's not it."

"Compliment me, Mia," he demanded softly.

"Huh?" I was confused, and it showed on my face.

He smiled. "Compliment me," he repeated.

Needless to say, I was both shocked and amused. He wanted me to compliment him on his cooking? Seriously? Who was this man?

I searched my brain for a suitable complimentary term and came up with, "It's delicious."

Of course I meant what I said. The meal was simple yet delectable.

He became serious all of a sudden, and I noted the glint in his eyes. My heart leaped in my chest as he swiftly moved forward and caught me, his hand resting firmly at the back of my head. He slammed his lips against mine, kissing me so hard and wild that I became breathless. He didn't stop there either. He parted my lips with his tongue and then invaded me.

I groaned and shivered deliciously. It was a different type of deliciousness than the food. This was intoxicating, enticing me to want more.

His tongue was passionate and wild, stroking me and caressing me until my body melted and my mind became a muddle of confusion.

When he released me from his embrace, I was light-headed and dizzy. I was still breathing heavily when he said, "Have you made up your mind yet?"

I wasn't thinking really, and thus I nodded.

"Yes?" he probed.

I licked my lips. "There's no way I can find two million," I murmured softly. I was staring at his lips, and I had no idea why I was doing that. Honestly, I should put some distance between us while we were discussing this particular topic. But I couldn't seem to move. James still had me close to him, his hand still behind my head and his face a mere inch from me. I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin as he spoke.