THE BILLIONAIRE'S GIRLFRIEND

ONE.

One year later.
Month: September.
Kinlochbervie, England.

They said time was supposed to heal your pain.

Well. . .they lied.

Time didn't heal all pain, it merely dulls it until it becomes a faint throb, like an after effect of stubbing one's toe on a hard surface.

It's been a year since she left London. A year since she walked away from the love of her life. A year since she took that cheque from Master It's fiancée.

Fiancée...

The word left a bitter taste in Malora's mouth. He certainly didn't waste anytime in announcing his engagement to the whole of London and those who cared to read about him. She was smart to have taken that cheque, after all.

The sound of the bell going off jerked her head up from the harsh glare of her laptop screen. Malora sighed, and rubbed her hand on her nape, trying to work out the kink there. A quick glance at the corner of her laptop screen revealed that it was a little past ten, which meant she'd been writing for two hours. Two hours that were so precious to her, because it was the only time she had to herself before the cycle that had become her life began again.

Rising to her feet, Malora gently placed the laptop on the single chair she was sitting on before and made the short walk across the room to the door, her socked feet muffled the sound of her steps.

She glanced through the peephole, wondering who could come calling at this time of the night. A face she recognized all too well stared back at her. The porch light which automatically came on when it detected a movement made the lines on his face seem deeper and harsher.

Her heart sped up, and her chest felt too tight. After all this month, how the hell did he locate her? She'd chosen this place for a reason, and that was because she wanted to remain hidden. And now...

Malora took a deep breath, combed her fingers through her chin length blonde hair —obviously dyed—and turned the locks in the door before wrenching it open. A slight breeze swept in through the door, causing her to shiver. She was wearing dark sweats and blue tank, which was her lounge clothes. No one in their right minds would come calling at this time of the night away.

She crossed her arms across her braless chest, and tried to look as if she wasn't scared as to what this man's presence would spell for her.

"Good evening, ma'am," he said, cold eyes remaining firmly on her face.

"Mr. Valentine," she replied, stifling the urge to check over his shoulder for the one man that still made her skin tingle in places she never expected. "What are you doing in Kinlochbervie?"

"Mr. Pitts asked me to give you a message." Mr. Valentine glanced over her shoulder into the house as if searching for something...or someone.

Malora resisted the urge to slam the door in his face and run as far away as she could from this place. But that would only make Master T madder than a hatter. Instead, she stepped back and opened the door wider. "Come in, it's freezing outside."

He made no move to enter, instead he buried his hand in the pockets of his coat and withdrew a brown envelope, then held it out to her with a gloved hand. "He asked me to give this to you."

She eyed it, but made no move to collect. "What's in there?"

"He said you would understand it once you read it." His hand remained outstretched. "I have to get back to London tonight, ma'am."