THE BILLIONAIRE'S GIRLFRIEND

TWELVE

Malora lifted her chin. "I first heard that word when I was twelve, and a girl in my class called another 'a little cunt', because she was holding hands with a guy she loved. And when I got home that evening and said that word  Lorena didn't say anything, she merely gave me my food for the night but kept giving me these long stares. It was unnerving and I couldn't eat properly. She did these for three straight nights until I finally asked her what's wrong. She said, 'I must be doing a poor job taking care of you if you feel that comfortable using that word.' I vowed to never use that word again, until today."

He stepped away from her, as if knowing that little bit about her was poisonous to his sanity or well-being." "If you are ready we should leave now."

Outside he remote unlocked a black Aston Martin. The wings lifted upwards. It was the kind of flashy car she associated with the spoilt sons of Saudi Arabian oil sheiks. Malora settled in. "What happened to Bentley?"

"Wrapped it around a tree."

Malora swung her head around. She saw that car in Kinlochbervie, so she found that hard to believe. Unless he bought another one? "With you in it?"

"Yes, cracked a couple of ribs, but, as you can see, I emerged unscathed. It's hard to hurt me."

There was an edge to his voice. Of course. He was telling her she had hurt him.

The Louvre was the same as she remembered it. Great service and divine food, but there was a large difference that she could not notice.

Titan was drinking far more than he used to. He ordered the obligatory bottle of wine that perfectly matched their meal, but hardly touched it. Instead, he ordered for the whiskey. Malora had already counted seven.

"You were completely drunk when you had your accident, weren't you?"

"Yup. Miss Drew solves yet another mystery."

"Didn't they do you?"

The alcohol had relaxed his tense shoulders somewhat. He laughed and she wanted to press my mouth against those hard lips. "Have you forgotten everything I told you, Malora dear? The Pitts' are above the law. Cream always floats to the top."

"So does shit."

He raised his glass and chuckled without mirth. "Let's see how bright you can be when you are naked in my bed."

"Depends how full my mouth will be," she retorted unwisely.

"To bursting, darling."

Malora felt her cheeks heat up. "Are you planning to drive home tonight?"

He picked up his glass and shoots it. "I wouldn't risk your pretty face on my windshield for anything. Henry is coming to pick us up."

Malora almost pointed out that she'd once had her pretty face on his windshield once upon a time ago.

In the car they didn't not touch each other. Their conversation wws stilted and shallow, unsustainable.

'What did you do today?'

'Skyped with Mika, and picked from some of the clothes Janette sent over.'

'Fun?'

'Yes.'

Both of them were already thinking of the time they would be alone. When only their bodies would speak. There was something about this man that made her hands itch to touch his skin, suck that firm mouth, meld with him…forever. Desire fogged her brain.

After all, he already thought she was shameless.

Malora pretended to drop her purse. He bent to retrieve it, but she reached out for it and brush his clothed thigh. Immediately she felt him tense.