Beauty and the Billionaire: A Dirty Fairy Tale Romance Page 8

  Drake rubbed my rear more and then traced his fingers over the small of my back. “You don’t have to prove anything to me tonight.”

  “I know I don’t.”

  I have to prove things to myself.

  “Are you absolutely sure?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I swear if I wanted to stop, I’d call the safe word.”

  “Good.” Drake took a breath and when he spoke again, that commanding soldier was back in control. “Princess, promise me you’ll never run again. That you’ll never set yourself up for danger, for any bullshit. If fuckers like that ever mess with you again, I’ll tear them apart.”

  “I promise, Master.”

  His hand slapped firmly against the first cheek, but it was not as hard a hit as the other two. Then he helped ease me over onto my stomach. I leaned against the satin sheets and let their coolness caress me. Then his hands were on me, this time with the lotion—it had to have something soothing in it like eucalyptus—because it was helping warm my muscles and release the tension still in them.

  “Was that all right, Belle? I need to make sure you weren’t going along with all that shit just for me, but that you are okay with it, that you liked it.”

  “I did,” I admitted, maybe even surprising myself. “I think at first I was trying it to get a feel for everything, but I don’t even understand it. It makes me feel about as sexy and about as needy as I did when you were stroking me with those gloves or kissing my breasts.”

  “Then we’ll keep working slowly on our ‘negotiations,’” he said, the amusement clear in his voice.

  I let out a little moan and burrowed more deeply into the mattress. After so much pain and horror last night, it felt surreal how much better my day had gotten. I’d had sex for the first time, been made love to by a master—no, by my Master. We’d shared a great breakfast and he’d given me insight, at least some, into his life before in the Marines, and then snorkeling and sunset in the Bahamas. All of it leading to this moment, this time for the open honesty between us, where I’d literally been laid bare and realized that there was something perhaps kinky deep inside me, something that needed a bit of pain and excitement in my sex, too.

  Something that craved putting all my trust in my master.

  I let out a happy little sigh and turned my head back to see him before, to really watch those brown eyes as they raked over my own. “Can I ask a question?”

  “You can ask anything, princess.”

  I reached out and stroked his cheek. “Why don’t you take off your shirt?”

  His gaze hardened and he clenched his jaw, making the cords in his neck rope up more tightly. “I don’t talk about that.”

  “You said I could ask you anything.”

  “Not that. Some things are private,” he growled, jumping out of the bed and hurrying out the door. Drake left me behind out of nowhere, leaving me feeling cold and unwanted.

  What had I done so wrong? How could a question be so painful? I wasn’t sure, but I would be damned if I wasn’t going to keep working to find out.

  Chapter Ten

  Drake

  I’m not a complete moron. I know I shouldn’t have walked out on Belle like I did last night. We’d done some aftercare, but probably not enough, especially for her first rougher session, but screw that. She’d pressed. I knew there was a spitfire to her, a real ballbuster, even when I was sitting across from her at the boardroom table. She didn’t flaunt it like her sister, didn’t work to be Daddy’s best lapdog, but there was still a side to her that was nothing but intensity, all prying eyes and desperate inquiry. That was dangerous.

  I had some pretty fucking dark corners inside of me, and I didn’t want to go back to them, to remember the IEDs exploding or the blood on my hands that wasn’t even my own. I didn’t want to talk about before, and if she couldn’t learn to respect that, then I’d teach her. There was usually a time and place for a Dom and sub relationship, where the bounds only extended as far as the edges of the playroom, but she wasn’t going to question me. She wasn’t going to act like some reporter hot on a lead when the big story was only mine to share or be revealed to the world. She knew what she needed to, and the rest did not include me being exposed bone deep.

  For her to see what I kept so tirelessly hidden.

  Again, fuck that.

  If teaching her those boundaries—--my only ones—required me to be a total prick, then fine. That’s what we’d do. I was completely resolved to that.

  That is until I came down the next morning for breakfast. I’d spent the early morning hours working. I had clients everywhere and, even if I didn’t do PR for a huge segment of people in Europe or Asia, my A-list stars were always on location. I could keep myself busy answering endless emails and anticipating the next big disaster and how to head it off. I wasn’t thinking about her. Fucking right I wasn’t.

  Or that’s what I told myself.

  When I entered the dining room, I found that Belle was that sunny self she tended to be around Mrs. Johnson and Leonard. I couldn’t blame her for that. Both of them had their own appeal. Mrs. Johnson won you over by being like the mother you’d never had, although from what I could gather, Belle had a good relationship with her mom, though she didn’t talk about her too much.

  Now that was something I could be jealous about. My parents hadn’t spoken to me in a while. They were Midwest through and through and didn’t approve of me taking off to L.A. Still got on a high horse about how it was a damn sewer out there, and I’d do better to find “honest work.” They bitched a little less about it after I paid off the farm debts and mortgage, but there was a reason I stayed in The City of Angels at every holiday or found excuses to “be on the road with clients.”

  Now Leonard was a funny guy. I think one of the only reasons I hadn’t fired him yet for actually talking back to me was because he always said things in the funniest ways. That and the sarcastic bastard was usually right.

  I’d seen guys in the business who only had Yes Men around them. They got soft, never had other ideas that went against their own and they lived to regret it, to regret the ruin it led to. If I had Leonard around, I always had someone to pull my head out of my ass, whether I wanted it or not, and I usually didn’t.

  Belle’s blue eyes shone with all the tenderness I loved about her as she accepted another sweet roll from Mrs. Johnson. “You should have seen the baby turtles. They were the cutest things I’d ever seen. I even touched a few!”

  “That sounds lovely, dear,” Mrs. Johnson said.

  Belle’s smile widened, at least it did until she saw me, then it crashed into a scowl. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were up.”

  The accusation she didn’t say was that she would have known a lot more about me and where I was this morning if I hadn’t walked out on her in the playroom last night. I still didn’t regret my choice. I wasn’t taking off that shirt for anyone, or revealing anything like that for her. She had a chance to be more than my sub, but some wounds were to be left alone.

  “I figured I’d join the land of the living now that it was close to nine. I’m starving and needed to take a break from calling London and doing business.”

  “Right, business. I guess that’s all you think about. Everything’s about the bottom line and negotiations.” She held her chin up high but her last word wobbled a little. If she thought she was doing an impressive job in guarding her emotions, then she was wrong. “Can’t imagine what held you up.”

  I sat down across from her at the table and clenched my hands the minute she stood back up. “You’re not even done yet,” I said, as if the half-eaten sweet roll and barely touched sausage weren’t a big enough clue.

  “Actually, this was my second round. I usually don’t do that, but Leonard and Mrs. Johnson make like this lethal cooking team. I swear I’m going to gain so much weight. It should be worth it though once we work out the contract,” she said pointedly. “I mean it. We need to start going over numbers. Carol and I did work out
something that really should sweeten your pot, and I think we need to work on more than just a Bahamian vacation. Don’t you?” With that, she walked back into the kitchen, refusing to let Mrs. Johnson clean up after her, and then headed back through the dining room in double time without even looking at me.

  It felt like she put extra effort into stomping through the hallways to show her anger.

  Shit, I really did step in it, didn’t I?

  “What? I showered this morning,” I said, miming sniffing at my armpit. “What’s her problem?”

  Mrs. Johnson shook her head and set her napkin on the table. “I’ll go see to the child. You know exactly what you did last night. I haven’t seen a girl with eyes that swollen from crying in years. Whatever is going on, fix it.”

  With that, she was gone, too.

  I was gaining a mad talent for clearing rooms.

  I sighed and scooped out some grits and fruit for myself. “Now, seriously, what’s going on?”

  Leonard crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorway. “Belle didn’t talk about last night, didn’t say a peep even to Penelope, but I can tell she’s feeling mighty low. I can imagine some of the trouble you got up to with her, but I don’t even think that’s it.”

  “I always have willing partners, Leonard. You’ve helped get the paperwork over to my lawyer on that very thing more than once.”

  “I am the best courier on the island, true,” Leonard said, shaking his head. “That’s not what I figured. I know you, and I know you don’t hurt anyone like that. The girls who’ve come here before and in L.A. wanted to be here. Miss Belle was relaxed all through the day yesterday so I reckon she’s been wanting things, too, but you know you did something wrong. Hurt that fragile heart of hers. I think you need to work on fixing that.”

  “Does Mrs. Johnson feel the same way?”

  “Sir, please take this with all the respect it should get, but we’ll both kick your butt if you don’t. Belle’s a good girl, far better than any girl you’ve ever brought here. If you knew everything that was driving her to come, then you’d understand just how strong she was.”

  “I get she feels some personal responsibility for Maurice’s company.”

  “That ain’t it, not even half of it. You have a girl with a big, huge heart and she still hasn’t asked to go home yet. I think you have a chance to make this right, but you gonna tell me what actually happened. I figure two heads are better than one on this.”

  I snorted so hard I almost choked on my breakfast. “Are you saying that I can’t fix this on my own? I can fix the image of anyone on Earth, no matter how much smack’s in their veins or what club they made an ass of themselves at. A Twitter mistake is no match for me.”

  Leonard stroked his chin. “That’s all about image, sir. There’s a difference between that and improving the reality. Belle knows you, and she wants something sincere from you. Now what actually happened?”

  I stiffened and shoved my bowl away. “I respect you, Leonard. You’re probably my best servant, but some things don’t go further, even with us.”

  “So, I’m not completely the Alfred to your Batman?”

  “Hardly, and I’m no Dark Knight,” I added before he could take the shot and make the joke. “She just pushes so fucking much, wants things I can’t give her.”

  “Does she really or is it just uncomfortable to give them?” he asked, playing armchair shrink like some fucking Haitian Dr. Phil.

  “There are sides to me she’s already seen far too much of,” I replied, repressing the shudder at all the things that had happened, at the blood on my knuckles as that asshole’s nose broke, at the medal I never looked at. So much was there, and if she really saw it—saw the marks it had left on me—she’d be out the fucking door anyway.

  “Or maybe it hasn’t been enough. I know what I saw yesterday out on the yacht. You’re different with Belle, sir, better. I think this is the real thing or could be. I’m lucky to have my Jamayla, always have been. I’d hoped for a long time you’d find a girl like that and maybe now you have but…”

  “What?” I groaned, impatient with his self-righteous spiel.

  “You won’t if you keep running and only show her the walls you want to show her. You don’t know everything about her yet, but she hasn’t seen everything you have to offer either. Be honest with her, do something big for her to show you’re sorry.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Then you’ll lose her, and that would be the biggest mistake of your life.”

  I shook my head. “There’s one bigger than anything, Leonard, and even you know that.”

  ***

  Damn Leonard and his talks. His advice had pounded in my head all day until inspiration struck and I made the calls and arrangements. Belle wasn’t the type of girl to be swayed by just a new diamond necklace or the latest iPhone. Frankly, if she had, I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about her. I’d had flings or drunken hookups back in L.A. with more than my fair share of bimbos and golddiggers. In between my usual subs, I’d be bored and entertain the newest ditzy CW or Freeform starlet on my arm for a date or two. None of them were like her; none of them had her resolve or her spirit. None of them would dare talk back to me like she had while cleaning my wounds.

  Belle was special, and I didn’t know if I could be the man she wanted, but I was fucking well going to try it. I hadn’t run from snipers in Iraq or mad bombers, and I wasn’t about to turn chicken shit because of some girl.

  Even if I didn’t want Belle to leave me when she saw everything I was hiding.

  Then again, might as well tear that Band-Aid off if I didn’t have any other choice.

  But the gift I’d gotten for her would take a day or so of set up. I hadn’t given them a hell of a lot of notice, and even with tons of money, there were things that even I couldn’t swing. That meant I’d have to try and talk with her first, and then see if the gift could win her over fully tomorrow.

  I approached the door to her room with my blood pounding through my veins. She was pissed, I got that, but I wasn’t even sure what I was going to say. I could talk the panties off a girl in five minutes, but this wasn’t about charm. This wasn’t about getting someone ready to party. This was about trying to make up for what an ass I was being with someone who was already wounded and, even before the service, I hadn’t had a lot of experience with that.

  Knocking on the door, I waited as I listened to the sound of a chair scraping on the wood floor. “Belle, I know you had dinner already in your room, but I was wondering if you’d like to go on a walk on the beach with me. It’s gorgeous under the moonlight. You really haven’t heard the sound of the surf unless you hear it fresh on the beach.”

  The door pulled open ferociously. She was there, staring at me with those blue eyes, now so like ice. Crap. “So, that’s it. You walk out on me after sex like I’m your call girl, and we’re just going to give it twelve hours and have a moonlit stroll, holding hands?’

  “I’m sorry for what happened. I… can I come in?”

  She paused and looked toward her bed, probably wondering whether I was trying to trick her. Again, not my style. I only wanted the willing and had no fucking understanding of guys like those punks at the bar who didn’t feel the same. Besides, this wasn’t about sex, at least not right now. I understood that I needed to make things right here, and I was trying. She could be in a damn bowling alley for all it mattered; we’d be about as likely to do it as we were now.

  “I just want to talk. I didn’t think you’d want to do it in the hallway in case any of the staff overheard.”

  Belle’s expression softened. “I forget this place has staff, I mean, outside of Leonard and Mrs. Johnson.” She stepped aside to let me in. “I don’t think this conversation should be anything but between us.”

  I nodded as I stepped through the threshold and sat at her desk chair just to emphasize my point that this was about a talk and only that. “I shouldn’t have left you l
ast night.”

  Belle didn’t sit on the bed or the sedan chair. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and tapped one foot on the floor before her. “No, you shouldn’t have. All I did was touch your shirt and ask about why you always wore it. That wasn’t an excuse to make me feel like a whore.”

  I swallowed hard at that. That was the last thing Belle could ever be and the last thing I’d ever want her to think about herself, even if I was the jerk who’d put that thought in her head. “It’s not about you. It’s me.”

  Belle shook her head. “That was the kind of line my college boyfriend used to feed me. I need to understand more than that. Is this how it always is? Is this about landmines? I feel like I’m going to set off a damn trip wire.”

  “No, it’s…”

  I couldn’t continue. Her words struck me hard, like a punch to the gut. Even though I was sitting in the white, clean bedroom before me, I wasn’t there anymore. No, I was back in Iraq, back in the grueling heat and the checks to my boots to make sure a damn scorpion hadn’t crawled in it. The jeep was rolling through the desert on the regular recon mission until we hit the wrong spot, until…

  There was a concussion so loud that I couldn’t hear, couldn’t focus.

  Blinking, I tried to crawl out of what remained of the vehicle to my friends. When I got to Jimmy… dear fuck, was that his arm?

  “No!”

  Belle’s arms were around my shoulders then and it snapped me back from the flashback. I was shaking and the sweat was pouring down my forehead. I closed my eyes, trying to get some breath and sense into me, and then I was there again in the desert, the blood of my friends all over me.

  “No, Jesus Christ!”

  Belle cupped my cheek, and I opened my eyes. “Drake, look at me. Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real. You know that, right? You know that you’re safe now. It’s back there and it can’t hurt you anymore.”

  I took in a shuddering breath but focused on those blue eyes, ones that shone like sapphires. That icy coolness was gone from them now, and I wished I could feel relieved about that. All I felt like right now was a burden. But I had to sit there, had to take in deep measured breaths to match her own as the flashback waved over me and faded. Belle’s kind words and her kind eyes were the only anchors I could cling to in order to keep from slipping back to that fucking hellhole of a desert.