Page 50 of His to Possess
I wave off her argument. “No need. We can get you whatever you need there.”
“Philip.” She looks annoyed now. Not exactly the reaction I was going for. “You can’t just keep buying me things.”
I lean closer again, knowing I’m flirting with fire every time I invade her space. “Lilah. I rarely take time off. I’d like to enjoy our time in the city together. My plans include some shopping, for both of us. So can we please just leave so we can get started?”
She stares up at me with those big blue eyes, seemingly overwhelmed. By my nearness of by the gruff command in my voice, I’m not sure. Either way, I like the way overwhelmed looks on her.
“Okay,” she finally whispers.
“Good girl.” I reach down and give her a soft pat on the thigh. From the way her breath catches, I can tell she’s affected by those two words.
So she wants to be a good girl, hmm? The thought brings a hundred dirty fantasies to mind. I push them down—there’s no way I’m not getting her naked in this kitchen if I go there.
So I force my attention to getting Lilah moving and try to ignore my achingly hard dick.
* * *
I’m feelinga little smug as the elevator doors open directly into my penthouse apartment. Lilah had been effusive about the private jet on the trip up to the city, exclaiming loudly as she explored the luxury space. When my Manhatten driver stopped in front of the strikingly modern glass skyscraper in Tribeca, her mouth had dropped open.
Apparently, I’ve reverted back to my sixth form days because I’m acting like a teenager desperate to impress the prettiest girl in the class.
Still, I can’t pretend her wide-eyed reaction to the splendor of my building and its location in the heart of downtown Manhattan doesn’t feed my ego. I’ve worked damn hard for the things I have in this life and when I see Lilah enjoying them, all the hard work feels worthwhile.
So I’m more than a little miffed when we enter my penthouse from a private elevator and Lilah begins to laugh.
“You don’t like it?” I ask, frowning, but she’s already walking away from me, heading straight to the wall of windows that rings the living space. Being situated at the top of the towering building, the penthouse has breathtaking views in every direction. The Manhattan skyline, the Hudson river, and New Jersey are all visible in the expansive panorama.
Lilah stands in front of the window, shaking her head, little fits of laughter still bursting out.
“Care to share what you find so amusing?”
The grin she unleashes on me when she turns around soothes any miffed feelings from her reaction. Her eyes are bright and sparkling with amusement. She’s framed there in the window, the late morning sun shining down, the water of the Hudson spread out behind her.
So fucking gorgeous it makes my chest ache.
“This apartment is insane,” she informs me. “Yourlifeis insane.”
I raise an eyebrow and she laughs, spreading her arms wide. “I thought your place in Charlotte was impressive, but this?” The Manhattan penthouse couldn’t be more different from my place in Charlotte, which has a much more classic, homey feel. This place? It’s all about flash, from the sheer square footage, to the furniture, to those twenty-million-dollar views.
“This must have cost more than all the houses on our street back home.”
The houses on our fathers’ street back home are certifiable mansions—but she’s not wrong. New York real estate just can’t compare with Charlotte—or most other places in the world.
“I’m going to bet your place in London is equally grand?”
I just shrug and Lilah shakes her head again, her grin turning somewhat rueful. “Makes me wonder what you must have thought when you saw the apartment I’ve been living in.”
I scowl. “What I thought was that I was going to do anything in my power to make sure the next place you rest your head is one hundred times safer than that.”
Her cheeks pink up but she turns back to the window without responding. I cross the room to join her, eyes taking in the view. How long has it been since I stood here and looked out at the city? What does it say about me that scenes like this have become commonplace?
“It’s really beautiful,” she says softly.
I want to tell her that she’s more beautiful than the view but it would sound too much like a line—even if it is one hundred percent true.
“Why don’t you live here all the time?” she asks. “New York is pretty much the mecca for the financial industry, right?”
“I’m here at least once a week,” I tell her, putting my hands in my pockets. “More often when things are busy.”
