Page 47 of His to Possess
“But she wasn’t on board with that,” I guess.
His eyes flash. “Not in the slightest. She was a proud woman, my mum.” He winks, some of the tension easing. “I take after her in that way.”
“And now?” I ask. “You still do some work with your father, right?”
He takes another bite of his food, and I get the sense he’s avoiding the question. I decide not to press and concentrate on my own plate for a few minutes. He’ll tell me if he wants to.
He takes a sip of coffee then clears his throat. “One thing she agreed to let him pay for was my school. From primary right up through university I had the best education his money could buy. We spoke a little over the years—mostly he would check up on my studies. Didn’t seem to have much interest in me beyond that.”
My heart tugs. That sounds like the opposite of my father, who was always so warm and affectionate with us, completely indulgent.
Right up until the moment he wasn’t anymore.
“He offered me a position interning in the London office after I finished university.” He shrugs. “It was a good opportunity, so I took it.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Even after…all of that?”
Something flashes in his eyes. Anger? I’m not sure if it’s directed at me or his father. “I have zero qualms about using that man to get ahead,” he says, voice tight. There’s not a shred of defensiveness in it, though. He sounds completely sure of himself. “Edward doesn’t owe me love or affection and I sure as hell wouldn’t want it. But I am more than happy to use his connections and his business to get to where I want to be. That’s the least he can do.”
“And where do you want to be?” I ask, then immediately regret it when he turns those flashing eyes in my direction. Lordy, the man looks fierce. I can suddenly see him so clearly in a place like Club Wyld. He can probably make submissives fall at his feet with just that look.
Then the fierceness fades slightly, leaving him looking almost vulnerable. “Honestly? I’m not entirely sure.” He manages a smirk, but it seems forced. “For the longest time my only goal was to start my own hedge, to make it successful. But now…I suppose maintaining that success doesn’t have the same thrill as fighting for it in the first place.”
“So instead you get your thrills at Club Wyld.”
His grin looks more natural now. “Indeed, Miss Cartwright.” He points at my half empty plate. “Now, eat. If we start talking about Club Wyld with you looking so delectable, I’ll never be able to finish my meal.”
Just like that, it feels like every nerve ending in my body just jumped on a train to travel straight to my clit. His voice is so dark, so velvety, it actually makes goosebumps rise up on my skin. It doesn’t help that his words immediately make a hundred possibilities race through my mind.
Amusement flashes through the darkness of his eyes. “Your bare legs don’t hurt, either.”
“Ohf,” I manage, voice barely more than a squeak. Great. I’m back to barely comprehendible noises. Then I gasp as he leans in to nip my earlobe. “You’ll have to find some patience, love. We need to leave in a few minutes.”
I’m so lost in the feeling of being close to him—the hot breath on my neck, his clean smell surrounding me—that it takes a moment for his words to sink in. “Wait—what?”
He leans back, grabbing his coffee, leaving me feeling much colder than I had a moment ago. “I told you I need to stop at the office.”
“Oh.” I feel like I’ve just been doused in cold water. Of course he has to work. It’s Tuesday. Here I am mooning around, acting like a teenager over a few kisses. Philip actually has a career, billions of dollars of his investors’ money to manage, important things to focus on that have nothing to do with me. “No problem. I’ll keep myself occupied.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I’ll keep you occupied.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re coming with me, Lilah.”
I blink at him. “You want me to come with you to the office? Why?”
“Do you think I would leave you here?” He shakes his head, like the very suggestion is ridiculous. “Absolutely not.”
My own annoyance spikes. “I don’t need a babysitter, Philip.”
“I won’t be babysitting you. I’ll be working.”
“And I’ll be—what? Just sitting there?”
He shrugs “I’m sure we can find something for you to do.”
I throw up my hands. “What the hell, Philip? I’m a grown ass adult. This isn’t take-your-daughter-to-work-day.”
