Page 8 of Marked By the Billionaire
She bites back a smile as though she’s afraid of the emotion she’s having. “Yeah, I love sunflowers.”
“Good. I hope you like the clothes too.”
Her hand tightens around her purse strap and her shoulders tense. “You don’t like my dress? It took forever to pick out.”
“It’s sweet,” I say slowly, letting my gaze linger, “but I’d like to see you in something… more comfortable.”
Her cheeks pink and her voice catches. “Comfortable?”
“Go ahead.” I nudge her forward. “I’ll get someone started on dinner. Let’s meet back here in thirty minutes. No weird phone calls, and no escaping through the upstairs windows. Okay? If I have to chase you down, I don’t think you’ll like the consequences.”
That earns me a look, though I’m not sure what it means. Part of it looks intrigued. The other part, not so much.
Rolling her eyes, she slips through the hallway and disappears around the corner.
I wait until her footsteps fade upstairs before I let myself move again, then check the fireplace. Wood crackles low and warm in the hearth. It’s an experience I don’t usually get. I crouch, adjust a log, and watch as the flames catch and spit sparks into the dim space. There’s something grounding about it. Something slow and deliberate, far removed from the sterility of glass and steel back in Miami.
There, I chase noise. Here, silence finds me. I always thought that would be a terrifying thing. So far, it’s not so bad. In fact, I’ve been enjoying it. There’s something about getting lost in the trees and fresh air that’s centered me back to a place I haven’t been to in a while.
Upstairs, there are sounds of her moving. I imagine her fingers brushing the fabric I had set out. Soft things. Clean lines. Luxury.
Thirty minutes gives her time to settle and explore the room I had put together for her. The timeline was short, so I’m sure it’s not as perfect as I’d have liked it to be, but I can always trust that Reynolds won’t let me down. While she’s with me, I want her to feel comfortable, like she can do or say whatever she wants. Like she can upset me, and have opinions. Like we’re two people here by accident, not with four million dollars on the line.
I pour a glass of bourbon and stare at the mountain range sweeping out before me. It’s all curated like everything else. Theview, the silence, the illusion of peace. She’ll think it’s beautiful, but beauty is just another tool. A distraction to hide what’s beneath the surface.
I’m sure she’s wondering what kind of man chooses a stranger to play with for the weekend. I’m sure she thinks it’s power, some kind of control fantasy, and maybe that’s true. I wouldn’t mind her on her knees and begging, though deep down, I know this is more than that. I bought clarity, and Penny is about as clear as they come. She’s untouched. No masks, no rehearsed seduction, no polished lies. Just raw instinct.
The ice clinks in my glass as Reynolds steps into the room. I’ll never understand why he insists on wearing a suit and tie after all these years, but he asserts that it’s the proper attire for a house manager on payroll. Truth be told, I’ve offered him retirement many times, but he refuses to take it.
Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without him.
“Sir, should I prepare dinner, or will you and your friend be dining out tonight?”
“We’re dining in. Thank you.”
“How’s everything going?” Reynolds drags his hand back through his gray hair, letting the moment slip to something more casual, which is most common for our interactions.
“Not sure. We’ll know soon enough.”
“Why the change in plan, sir?” Reynolds voice is rougher than usual, and I sense judgment behind it, as I did when I told him about the virgin auction.
“It was a last-minute decision.” I sip the warm bourbon and let it slide down my throat slowly. “She’s different. I can feel it.”
“What does that matter, sir?”
I let his question permeate for a long moment before answering. “I’m not sure yet.”
Footsteps echo in the hallway, interrupting our conversation. It’s Penny. She stares toward me with a soft gaze, curls framing her face. She’s so gorgeous.
“Oh,” she turns toward Reynolds, hand extended, “you must be Reynolds. I heard all about you on the way here.”
“Pleasure to meet you too, Miss. I’ll leave you alone. I’m sure we’ll have time to get to know each other over the weekend.”
Penny nods shyly and pauses in front of the fire as Reynolds leaves the room.
“You look gorgeous.” I draw my gaze over the soft white cashmere sweater and the tight black leggings I had left for her on the bed. The fabric hangs off her shoulder and frames her shape perfectly.
“I was expecting something slutty.” Her eyes narrow and her arms cross in front of her chest, pressing her firm breasts up even higher.
