The Billionaire’s Christmas Bride by L. Steele

20

Weston

"What are you up to?" I frown as she scrambles up onto the table, on her knees.

She looks at me with wide eyes, “What? I’m doing what you ordered me to do.”

I growl.

"You didn’t specify where." She flutters her eyelashes at me.

I scowl. Of course, I didn’t, but then, I hadn’t expected her to kneel on the table either. This woman... Every time I think I have her pegged, she throws me a surprise. Goddam it. I pause at the door. Max whines, and I bend down to pat him. He pushes his nose into my hand, then drops back on his hind legs.

"Stay there." I growl, then straighten, and shut the door in his face.

"Why...why did you do that?" she squeaks, her tone so close to panting that a chuckle grips my throat. I swallow it down, then turn and crack my knuckles. "Why do you think?" I growl.

She gulps. Fear and excitement wafts off of her. Fuck! My dick thickens. She watches me as I prowl toward her, closer, closer. I pause in front of her; her spine straightens.

I roll my neck; she winces.

I glare at her and color fades from her face. "What…what are you going to do?" she whispers, all wide eyed, and my groin tightens.

I put my finger to my lips.

She swallows. Her eyebrows knit as I circle around the table to stand behind her.

"You misinterpreted what I said," I chide.

"What?"

"I told you to kneel."

"I’m kneeling."

True.I scratch my chin, "Sassy and impertinent. You don’t know how to follow orders, huh?"

"I’m not one of your patients," she scoffs.

"No, our relationship could never be that…professional." I place my palms on either side of her body, bend toward her, forcing her upper body forward until she puts her palms on the table.

She shivers. Does she feel the heat from my body? Does she realize how much I want her right now?

"Weston," her breath hitches, "what are you doing?"

I palm her butt. The silence stretches a beat, another.

She shudders. "You… Are you…" She arches her back, and I flatten my palm onto the center.

"Am I?" I prompt her.

"Are you going to punish me?" her voice cracks.

"Should I?" My lips curl. I apply pressure and she curves her spine, juts out her arse.

I release her, step back. Hmm, perfect. I raise my left hand, "Beg for it." I take aim.

"For what?" She turns to glance at me over her shoulder, her gaze wide, lips parted.

Blood rushes to my groin. Hell, I haven’t started, and already, I am so close to losing control. One glance at her upturned nose, that sweet mouth, and all my promises to myself go out of the window.

"Eyes forward," I growl.

She gulps, then obliges, turns her face to look ahead. Thank fuck. Any more sass from her, and I swear I’d have turned her over my knee... And that would have been too easy...for her...for me… Yeah, this is more arousing—the anticipation, the build-up, the sweet ache as she waits...waits.

"Say it," I snap.

"Please," the words tumble from her lips, "slap me, spank me, treat me like I’m your…"

"My—?"

"Your property, your uh—Christmas present."

"That the best you can do, Princess?"

"Like you’re Santa and I’m a naughty child." She swallows.

"And have you been a bad girl?" I lower my voice to a hush, "Tell me, Princess."

"Yes," she breathes, "I have been terrible. I disobeyed you. I willfully misinterpreted your directive, I—"

My palm connects with her butt.

"Ow," she howls, "What are you—?"

I raise my hand, bring it down on her arse with enough force that her entire body jolts.

"Ah!" she cries out.

Crack, crack, crack. I slap her on alternate arse cheeks.

"Argh." She throws her head back, her shoulders shudder, she squirms, and tries to pull away.

I grip her hip. "Stay," I command.

A ripple shivers up her spine. She tenses, clenches her thighs together.

"Or you can go."

She draws in a breath.

So do I.

Will she go? Will she take this opportunity I am giving her to get away?

"Nothing standing in your way, Princess," I remind her. "You can leave right now. Walk away, and I won’t stop you."

"The money," her voice is low, but I hear her. Of course, it comes down to that.

"I’ll pay you for the two nights you spent here."

"You…you would?" She half turns, then changes her mind and positions her head to stare forward. "You’d do that?"

"Of course," I mutter. "I’m a jerk, not a cheat."

"And I’m not leaving."

"Say that again."

She gulps, the sound loud in the silence of the room.

"I… I want to stay."

"You want to see this through?"

She nods.

"Why?"

"You’re not the only one who wants to fulfill your side of the bargain."

"Good." I slap her arse.

"Hey," she snarls, "I told you I wasn’t leaving."

"And I am not letting up."

She lowers her chin, "And when you’re done, you’ll take a look at the generator?"

"You bet."

"Fine," she tosses her head, "have at it—"

I step back, walk around her to drop into my seat, and resume eating.

"What are you doing?"

I crunch down more cereal.

"I’m talking to you," she scowls.

"I’m not."

She stares at me as I shovel more of the disgusting stuff into my mouth. Cold breakfasts have never been my thing. And since when have I wanted to taste chocolate-laced savories in the morning, huh? Come to think of it, when had I begun to stop hating chocolate? Bloody hell, this woman is changing me and she isn't even trying.

I push back, stand, "I’ll check out the generator now."

I turn to leave and there’s a sound behind me. I hold up my hand. "What do you think you’re doing?" I ask without turning around.

"Uh, I’m going to finish my cereal?”

"No."

"What?"

I pivot to glare at her over my shoulder, "You stay right there, Princess."

"Bu…but," she blinks rapidly, "you’re leaving."

"And I haven’t given you permission to move."

She gapes, "So you want me to stay right here, on the table, on all fours?"

"You can get naked if you want," I chuckle, "or not. Up to you."

"You’re a prick," she mumbles, "a sadistic, jerk-face, wanker."

"And you’re going to obey me," I inform her.

She glowers at me, "I hate you."

"And I love that wrinkle you get between your eyebrows when you’re angry." I blink. Did I just say that? I didn’t say that. And the worst thing? It’s the truth. I frown at her.

She stares back.

"Stay." I stab a finger in her direction, because well, I need to reinforce my rich prick status. Then turn and leave.

I make a detour to collect my phone from the bedroom, then step out, past the silent hot tub. At some point in the night the snow had turned to rain. Now as I stalk across the lawns they glisten from the overnight storms.

When I reach the shed at the back, I hesitate, draw in a breath, and walk in. The glass from the broken clocks glitters on the floor. I stare at it, my life’s work—a fortune in antique clocks that I’d bought and fixed myself. I walk to the nearest one, pick it up. Its face is cracked, but the mechanism works. I could piece it together once more. I glance around the space… Hell, I am going to reassemble every single one of these pieces. That’s not the problem, though. I stalk forward, toward the table at the far end. Fact is, someone was here… They intruded on my privacy… Which I don’t give a fuck about… But her… She was here. So was Max. They’d frightened the dog and it could have easily been her. They could have hurt her… My belly knots. Fuck, if I am going to let that happen again. And it’s only because I am responsible for her, until Christmas… Perhaps until the New Year, if I have my way. I cannot put her at risk again. Whoever targeted me, won’t hesitate to come for her either.

I have to find a way to protect her…for as long as she is here… And later? I cannot allow them to get to her.

I pull out my phone. My first call is to the company that manages the services to the cabin and the shed.

I give them the go-ahead to switch on the electricity to the kitchen, and only to the kitchen. With the fancy bucks we pay to the private supplier, anything is possible. As for the water supply? I ask them to ensure there’s only enough for two days—nothing like water running out to test the mettle of a person, huh? As for the power cut? I orchestrated that too. Just a test, a way to exert complete control over the situation, and on her. Only I hadn't counted on a goddam intruder, violating my personal space. If something had happened to her—! My shoulders bunch. Goddam it, I have to find out who was behind the break-in.

Then I dial Damian’s number.

"What?" he grumbles.

"Did I disturb you?" I ask.

"Yes." He yawns. "You woke me up, you knob."

"Good." I roll my shoulders, "We have a problem."

"Not we," he mutters, "you." He yawns again, so loudly, I hear the sound of his jaw cracking over the phone. "Don’t pull me into your personal shitstorm, motherfucker," he warns.

"The shed was broken into last night."

There’s silence, then, "What do you mean ‘broken into’?"

"Exactly that." I begin to pace. "Someone got in, then got to my collection of clocks."

There’s a pause. "Didn’t know you still collect and repair them."

"I never stopped."

I also don’t talk about this affliction of mine with the Seven.

"I had Karina check on the security for both the cabin and the shed, so whoever managed to break in—"

"Was no ordinary burglar," he completes my thought.

I stay quiet and the silence extends.

"The Mafia." I blow out a breath. "They were behind this," I growl. "I should have known that they wouldn't stop coming after those close to us."

"And is she?" Damian asks.

"What?"

"Is she close to you?"

"We are sharing the same cabin," I snap.

"That's not what I meant."

"That's all you're getting," I retort.

Damian doesn't respond.

"If the Mafia thinks this is going to scare us off, they are wrong." I snarl.

"We won't stop until we find out who among the Mafia was behind our kidnapping," Damian agrees.

"If they're breaking in and entering now, they must be getting desperate," I mutter.

"We must be getting close to a breakthrough." Damian grunts, "Have you heard anything from Saint or Sinner about the latest on the investigations?"

"Not since they found their lady loves," I gripe. "Not that I begrudge them their happiness, but clearly, it's time we take things into our own hands."

"The New Year's eve party," Damian replies. "We'll all be there."

"Everyone except Baron." I say, referring to one of the Seven who prefers to stay clear of us and conduct his business remotely.

"Except fucking Baron," Damian agrees. "The rest of us will be there. We are bound to get an update then."

"Right." I pinch the bridge of my nose, "Meanwhile, I need to up the security here at the cabin."

"You going to ask Karina for help, again?" Damian asks.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You know how upset Arpad’s going to be about that?" he replies.

"Whatever is between her and Arpad is not my problem," I bite out. "Her investigative and security services are the best in the business and—"

"You can’t trust anyone else when it concerns the safety of those you care about?"

"Right," I nod.

He chuckles.

I frown, then straighten. "I mean, no," I growl. "I mean, yes, I can’t trust anyone else with securing the space and no, I don’t care about her."

"Man, you’re delusional," he scoffs.

"What is that supposed to mean, you piece of shit?"

He laughs, "When you get repetitive in your insults, I know you’re not thinking straight."

"Fuck that." I frown, "Are you helping me or not?"

"Do I have a choice?" he replies.

"Nope," I bark, then move the phone to my right hand. "I’m stuck here with this bloody broken finger, with my woman…"

"Did you say your woman?"

"A slip of the tongue." I grunt, "I’m here with her and Max, and it’s my responsibility to keep them both safe."

"That’s all this is about, huh?"

"Of course, what else would it be?"

"You tell me." I hear the grin in his voice.

"Once you’re done indulging your asinine sense of humor—maybe you could sober enough to hear me out?"

"Aren’t you forgetting to say something?" he drawls.

I stay silent.

"A word beginning with 'p'?" he prompts.

"Piss off." I oblige him.

He chuckles, "Good to know you have some game left in you yet."

"That was me being polite, you tosser," I growl. "If you don’t help me out, I’m going to release the video I have of you making out with your harem."

"Harem?" his voice is cautious.

"You don’t think that what takes place in Vegas actually stays in Vegas."

"You recorded me?" his tone is flat

"Don’t pretend you didn’t do the same." It was a trip the two of us had taken, a few years ago. The rest of the Seven hadn’t been available that year over the Christmas break and I had flown into LA to join Damian. We’d taken his private jet to Las Vegas… And the rest, well…as they say, it’s recorded for posteriority. His, not mine.

"What do you take me for?" Damian laughs, "Of course, I have a stockpile of pics and videos on each of the Seven, including you." His voice is pleasant. "Perhaps I should upload the video of you…" his voice trails off.

"Yeah," I quip, "I jerked off to you and your three women, which face it, is nowhere as interesting as what I have on you. Not that it doesn’t make you look good… I mean, they were all over you, and your face can only be seen in one frame." Which would be more than enough for him to capture the headlines of the media that day. "It’s slow over Christmas, and you have a big single coming out. No doubt, it would ensure that happy families everywhere would want to look you up to find out what the fuss is all about." Not. It would effectively cost him his reputation… Oh, he’d recover from it all right, but not before the Christmas single tanked… Probably.

"Whose idea was it to release a Christmas song anyway, huh?" I snicker. "Isn’t that what reality show winners and washed-up rock stars go for… Oh, wait." I laugh, "That’s what you are, someone who’s yesterdays’ news."

"Fuck off," he growls.

"With pleasure, after you’ve promised to help me."

"After that incredible selling job, how can I refuse?"

"Aww," I coo, "did I hurt your itty-bitty wittle feewings, Mr. Rock Star?"

"Sometimes I am not sure why the Seven of us keep in touch," he grumbles. "It’s not like there’s much love lost between us."

"Maybe it’s something deeper," I muse, "a shared moment—a few days in time that changed the course of our future."

"There is that." He sighs, "I could, of course, release your video anyway and see how it plays with your little girlfriend, huh?"

"Not my girlfriend, and PS, I told her about the sex tape already, so—"

"You told her?" He coughs. "Isn’t that unusual for you?"

"What?" I frown, "Just making sure she understood that she can’t underestimate my sex god status." I brush an imaginary speck from my sweater, as if he can see me.

"You being upfront with a woman?" I sense him shake his head. "So, it’s that serious, huh?"

"Of course, not."

"Just for that, I’ll do this for you."

"For what?" I crack my neck.

"To see you fall. Fuck, it must be something in the air…" He continues, "It started with Sinner, then Saint, and now you."

I move the phone away from my ear, and stare at it before switching to speakerphone, "I have no idea what you’re talking about." I frown.

"Of course, not." His voice is calm, "You have no idea, do you?"

I grit my teeth, "You’re getting on my balls, Savage." I growl, "One click and your video gets uploaded."

"No, you won’t do it," he retorts.

"Wanna test me?"

There’s silence, then he sighs, "The fuck do you want from me?"

"Listen," I speak into the phone.