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I snuggle further against his warm body, feeling protected and safe for the first time in my life.
I don’t know how I’m going to give him up, but I think I’ve earned myself a couple of hours rest, at least.
Two days later I stare at the white Aston Martin DBS Superleggera in shock with my hands over my mouth. When Alistair asked me again over breakfast about my favourite car, I joked and said an Aston Martin.
“I’ve organised a parking garage for you, and a fob to get in and out.”
I’m still staring at the car. “Alistair, I can’t drive this home.”
He frowns. “Why not?”
I turn to him. “Are you kidding? It wouldn’t be there by the morning.”
“Good point. So it’ll live here. Speaking of which…”
Oh, no, I hate it when he does that as usually it’s some huge revelation he’s about to shock me with.
“You need a new apartment.”
I bat my eyelashes. “Is that what all sugar babies get when they’re good?”
He smiles and it warms my heart.
I spent last night with him again, and it was wonderful. No island bench sex or the couch, but we did spend all night in his bed. And Alistair Devereaux can go all night.
“Yes. But you also need to be safe and looked after. And that’s my job now.”
I shouldn’t let his words affect me. This is a transaction! Need I keep reminding myself that at every turn? It seems I might need to hear it one more time.
“So you’re going to just buy me an apartment?”
“I have a few in the city but they’re tenanted at the moment, so yes, it seems I’m going to do just that. I’ve set up some appointments tomorrow. I’ll try to cancel my afternoon and come with you. Now, let’s take your new car for a spin.”
I gape at him. “You’re serious?”
He frowns. “Of course I’m serious. Charlize, must we have this discussion every single time I choose to spend money on you?”
Not just that; he already deposited twenty grand into my bank account for this week already. I read the contract and it was cut and dry. There was no mention of sex anywhere, though. Just that I’d be his personal secretary and assistant. I wonder if his accountant would be questioning why I get paid so much — but I’m sure he could take a wild stab at it.
We climb in the car and I smooth my hands over the steering wheel, loving the new car smell. I’ve not driven in England since I arrived all those months ago, so I agree just around the block until I get used to it. Thank God he bought an automatic.
“Wow, it’s so quiet,” I say as we pull out of the garage. “But I feel really low down.”
He chuckles. “That’s the idea of a sports car.”
I drive like Miss Daisy and he laughs at me the whole way up the street. “I think a puddle duck just passed us back there.”
“Shut up! I’m trying to concentrate.” Okay, maybe this wasn’t a great idea, but man, it’s a beautiful car. He doesn’t once offer to jump out and speed off up the road. I marvel at how patient he is when he tries.
When we wind up back at the house, he leans over to kiss me. “You look adorable driving like that.”
“I’ll get better at it.”
When we’re back inside, I put the kettle on and make Alistair a coffee.
“What are you thinking about?” He breaks my reverie as my eyes meet him over the kitchen island.
“What your accountant thinks, not to mention your attorney.”
