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“You need another spanking.”
Her mouth fell open in astonishment. “You did not just say that,” she whispered on a hiss, shooting her befuddled brother a glance.
When James just winked at her, she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to freakin’ cry.
12
Wherever Hailey had expected to be the next day, it certainly wasn’t James’ home.
She’d been here before, of course. To his luxurious mountainside mansion that would have had a Bond villain cooing in delight. But there were parts that even people considered family didn’t approach, and that was where they were now.
His private dining room.
Because yes, when you were a billionaire, you had a public and a private dining room in your home.
It was obscene, she thought, but kind of exciting too.
Aidan wasn’t as extravagant as James, so though her brother was rich, he spent it differently. Not that his house wasn’t swank, it just wasn’t like this. That was the difference between a wealth that was earned and one that was inherited, she guessed. Not that James hadn’t earned a fortune on his own too, but having been born with it, he’d never had the fear of loss that most people did.
A fact that was represented in James' home. With ten bedrooms, views over the city, an indoor and outdoor pool, acres of space in the yard, a gym, and only God knew what else, this house belonged on an episode of Cribs.
“Like it?” James asked, breaking into her thoughts.
“I’m amazed,” she confessed as he held out a chair for her at the dining table. There looked to be a
veritable feast laid before her, and she couldn’t wait to dive in.
With Mark out of the picture for good and currently waiting on bail to be released after his arrest, as well as the peace she’d found now she accepted her feelings for James, her appetite was returning.
Undoubtedly, the bun in the oven was helping with that too, but in this instance, it was the feast that was making her stomach grumble. Platters of Greek salad with bulging olives and juicy feta cheese, large pots of mezze with taramasalata, roast lamb, grilled eggplant and roasted peppers. There were some kind of meatballs, and huge doughy clouds of squashy pita-like bread.
He laughed at her bright eyes. “You look ready to tuck in.”
“Only politeness is holding me back,” she replied, not even joking as she grinned at him.
“Go on then,” he invited. “Do you want wine?”
She hesitated. “No. Thanks. I’ll just have water or juice if you have some.”
His brows rose. “Juice?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” he replied, sounding confused. “What kind?”
“Orange or apple. Whichever.” She reached for some bread and tore off a piece. Moaning as she tried it, she tasted the dark burnt bits where it had touched the griddle, the soupcon of savory olive oil, and then the sharp saltiness of rock crystals that had been dusted over it. “Wow, this tastes good!” she complimented, before she rolled the bread around a piece of feta, some grilled eggplant, topped it with roast lamb, before dipping it into some taramasalata she’d spooned onto her plate.
He laughed again at the sight of her stuffing her face. It pleased her how much she amused him. Sometimes, it irritated the hell out of her, but mostly, it didn’t. Mostly, she liked it.
He wasn’t a somber businessman, but the man had responsibilities. Major ones. He was jovial with most people, but she felt like that was a kind of front. The steel in his eyes was almost always there, but when she was around, it softened. Crystalline hazel eyes turning into soft grassy pools whenever he looked at her, like he knew he could relax around her.
Like James knew he could trust her to keep this side of him safe from danger.
And he could.
Even when she almost hated him for making her feel something for him, he’d never been in any ‘danger’ from her. Well, she’d have decked him with no guilt at all, but that was a different kind of danger. She’d only have done that if he’d pissed her off—which he had a habit of doing. Damn him.
Smirking at him because her thoughts amused her, she took another bite of her concoction, then after she’d swallowed, said, “Thanks,” as he passed her a glass of chilled juice. “In fact, thank you for all this. Your housekeeper didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”
