Obsessed (BBW Billionaire Light Romance) (4 page)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

James

 

That girl from the wedding! I hadn't expected to see her again. She took me by surprise in the lift; something to do with flowers for Reception - but Amanda handles all that. I tried a jokey sort of compliment and she flipped it away and backed off like a startled rabbit. God. She seems nervous around me.

I was really annoyed that night of the wedding. Flew back from Dubai, missed the ceremony, but made the rounds at the reception, being pleasant, meeting people, although I was dog-tired. Went upstairs to bed, jet lagged, and there she was. Dead to the world on
my
bed. I was actually more than annoyed. I was angry. I wanted to shake her awake, boot her out, tell her to call a taxi.

But ...

Well, when I looked at her, I felt a strange mix of emotions. She looked provocative, in that short dress, but also a bit vulnerable, and so warm and
curvy
, too. I wanted, just for a moment, to crawl into bed, cuddle up beside her and fall fast asleep.

I'm not used to having my organised, well-oiled life disrupted. I hire the best staff, pay them well over the odds, expect to be able to delegate, and have my small amount of free time uninterrupted.

Things usually run perfectly.

The next morning I gave her plenty of time and really expected that she would be gone before I was up. But there she was, when I went to get some clothes.

I remembered my manners, instilled into me during a very expensive education, and offered her the use of the my bathroom. Which she took, leaving the top off my shower gel and a wet, crumpled towel on the lid of the toilet, for good measure.

She talked about her job over breakfast, she really needs to get herself together, get focused. She's given up on one career in teaching and wants to move into retail. But it's not that easy.

I gave her a lift home, as she still seemed a bit hungover, and when I tried to help with the seat belt, I accidentally came into contact with her boob. Soft, generous, luscious. I'll admit, I’m usually surrounded by slim women, elegant, sophisticated, stylish ... but with small tits. This was quite a treat.

For some reason I can't quite work out, I seem to be the
bad guy
in all this. So I've asked her out on Sunday. I'll take her somewhere quiet, in the country, give her a lecture about how to succeed in business, and if she's really serious she could benefit from it. Then a spot of lunch, and have her home by late afternoon.

I hope.

But ... There’s something about this girl. Something that makes me feel uneasy; something that disturbs me.

I might just call it off ...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

 

"What should I
wear
? I still have no idea where we'll be going!"

Leah and Emma were in Leah's bedroom, taking things out of the wardrobe and drawers and laying them on the single bed.

"Not jeans," Emma advised.

"Skirt and top?"

Leah didn't have that much choice; when she looked at the small range of items on the bed, she realised that she desperately needed to buy some new clothes, but her funds were just so limited.

"That navy, linen skirt and the white, lacy top?" Emma was getting into the swing now. "But with a jacket. It's looking warm now, but it could get cool later."

"Later?" Leah questioned. "I don't think there’ll
be
a later."

"Do you think it's a date?" Emma had been a little taken aback when she’d first heard about James's invitation.

"No, not really,” Lea replied. “He mentioned something about being rude to me before. I think he just wants to clear the air, because of Lucy and Sam. In case we all happen to meet up again."

Leah had been thinking over the surprise invitation herself, and she was still unsure.

"I've got a cream jacket,” Emma said. “I got it in a sale and it's too big. You can try it on if you like?"

And with that, Emma disappeared into her own room to find the jacket.

 

§

 

It doesn’t look too bad, just about pulling together a look
, Leah thought as she looked at herself in the mirror a little while later. She had washed her hair in the shower and tried to tame the unruly curls. She should get it cut, maybe a short, spiky style, but was she past the age for that, she wondered. She could get it straightened instead, perhaps.

"He's pretty sensational," Emma said. "At the wedding you could see all the women moving towards him like a magnet, flirting, trying to get his attention."

"He's rich, good looking and full of himself," Leah declared. "Anyway, he has a girlfriend, I told you about the expensive stuff in his bathroom."

"Then why have you been up since seven on a Sunday morning, getting ready?"

"Because it's a day out! And anyway, he wouldn't fancy
me
. He probably surrounds himself with model types. You should see his PA, Amanda: intelligent, confident, but also stunning. That's obviously the sort he prefers."

Leah became increasingly on edge as the morning went on, and began to wish she had said she was busy all weekend. This level of anxiety just wasn't worth it.

He arrived at exactly 11 o'clock, in the open BMW, dressed in black chinos and pale grey linen shirt, and a black, cashmere jumper, casually thrown on the small back seat.

Leah got in and felt carefully for the seat belt. No more groping around for it this time: she would make sure she got herself strapped in properly,
without
any help.

"Nice day," he said.

"Yes, where are we going?"

Leah was pleased that he seemed to be casually dressed. At least it wasn't going to involve eating at some fancy gourmet restaurant where she might feel out of place.

"A surprise, should take around an hour to get there," he replied, putting on some expensive looking sunglasses.

Leah wished she could see his eyes; the glasses felt like a shield between them.

He had music on, quietly in the background, and it helped to fill the silence.

The traffic was light as they threaded their way through the streets. Sunday morning people, buying newspapers, meeting for coffee, taking the children and dogs to the park.

"How's the shop?" James asked

"Oh, things are reasonable," she replied.

"But you think you could make them better?"

She was surprised at his level of interest. Perhaps he was just trying to put her at ease.

"If I had the money," she sighed.

"Have you discussed your ideas with your boss? Made a business plan? Approached the banks for a loan in your name?"

What was this, Leah thought, an interrogation?

She hesitated, then carried on.

"No, not yet. Charlie has already borrowed up to his limit, and I don't think the banks would be willing to lend me anything."

"How many have you tried?" he asked, his gaze fixed firmly on the traffic.

"None really ..."

"Not much of a plan then."

At this, Leah felt dismissed, and for a while they sat in silence.

"What exactly would you do with a loan, if you got one?" he said after a while, his attention still on the road ahead.

"Oh, I know what to do,” she replied. “A new shop window, something with character, renovate and decorate the inside with a better colour scheme, new shelving, a replacement for the van, as it's a bit unreliable, an up-date the computer and spend what's left on an advertising campaign."

"How much would all that cost?"

"Around forty thousand, at least," she replied.

There was a pause in the conversation as James negotiated a busy traffic roundabout, slipping into the outside lane and quickly accelerating away.

"I'll lend you fifty. Discuss all the ideas with your boss, make sure he's on board, come up with a properly costed plan and submit it through Amanda."

Leah was totally stunned and not completely sure that she’d even heard correctly.

"Why on earth would you do that?" she asked, in total disbelief.

"Because it amuses me to take a chance on small schemes occasionally. The way some people bet money on horses. It isn't a big deal. I could spend that kind of money on a night at the Casino."

"It wouldn't work,” Leah replied. “The business would take a while to make a better profit, and I just can't afford to start paying you back for any loan straight away."

"Two years, minimal interest, and you don't have to start paying back until then. If you can't start repayments after the two years, I'll take over your share of the business."

"And what about my job?" Leah was still bemused, it was all too much to take in.

"Discuss it with Charlie, be a partner or investor, but if you don't make it after two years, Charlie will still have his share and you'll be working for me."

He’d made the decision so
quickly
– fifty thousand pounds obviously was just petty cash to him.

"What as?" she queried.

"A driver," he answered firmly.

There were too many exciting thoughts tumbling around Leah's head. She could make this work, but still wasn't sure about James and why he should take such an interest, or lend her such a large amount of money..

He seemed to sense her confusion.

"For a while, after uni, I lived in Crete,” he began. “My best mate and I took over a run-down beach bar. We worked hard and made it a great success, but it was also fun. Working behind the bar, bringing in the customers, lazing on the beach in between. I know something about small ventures."

"What happened then?" Leah was intrigued.

"I had to come back. Family commitments. Jake stayed on, married a local girl. I try and go out for a  few weeks each year, just to chill out."

"But ... ?"

"No more business talk, it's a rare day off for me. Think about it later. Have you guessed where we're going yet?" Just like that, he’d cut her many questions off.

"No, I haven't been watching the road signs much."

“Oxford,” he said. “The city of dreaming spires.”

"You went to uni here?" she asked.

"Yes, although I haven't been back for a while." James was looking for a parking space now. At last he found one and told her there would be a short walk.

"To your old college?" Leah was eager to know just what the day held.

"Not exactly," he seemed to directing her away from too much information. "Ah, here we are Magdalen Bridge, the River Cherwell ..."

They leaned over the parapet, watching the activity on the water.

"We're going boating, aren’t we!" Leah guessed. She was delighted, her eyes shining, and she had to stop herself from jumping up and down with excitement. On the river in Oxford! It was something she’d always wanted to do.

"Punting. Have you been before?" he asked.

"No, we didn't have punts at Sheffield Uni," Leah replied.

But it wasn't just a punt; it was a
chauffeured
punt, with a student waiting to take them on the river, past the colleges and gardens. Leah was handed into the boat and took her seat facing forwards. Just for a moment she hoped that James would sit next to her. After all, there was plenty of room, but instead he sat opposite. He was looking over her shoulder at the student who was standing at the back, his long pole ready to glide them through the river.

There was a large, wicker hamper on the floor in the middle of the punt.

"A picnic!" Leah said, swept away. A sunny day, cruising down the sparkling waterway, a picnic somewhere further down, among the meadows and banks of willow. And of course, James, the most fantastic, beautiful man she had ever met, sitting opposite her. Leah was in heaven.

"What a great idea, what made you chose punting?" Leah asked, trying to stay cool, but even so, she couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice. He must have given the day so much thought.

"It just occurred to me," he shrugged, "now, lean back, relax and I'll fill you in as we go."

The Botanic Gardens, Magdalen College Fields, Christ Church Meadows: he described them all as the punt glided slowly on.

"They filmed some of Harry Potter at Christ Church," James informed her. "The famous staircase, and made a replica of the Great Hall for the Hogwarts scenes ..."

Leah drank it all in as they drifted slowly by and eventually they pulled into to the river bank. The student punter got out, tied a mooring rope and consulted James.

"Go and have a drink, come back around two," she heard him say.

"Do you want to eat on the grass or in the boat?" he asked.

"Oh definitely in the boat. I'm not getting out of here, it's wonderful."

 

§

 

The picnic was exquisite, the hamper full of small delicacies, savoury and sweet, and Leah tried them all.

"Caviar!" she exclaimed, "how did you think of that?"

"I just ordered the deluxe version," James smiled, he seemed to be much more approachable, "just eat up, and stop talking."

As they relaxed in the sun, Leah wished they had some wine, maybe even champagne, but he’d already explained that he was driving and they would be better on fruit juice. Was he a bit of a health freak, she wondered, or did he just not trust her around alcohol after her behaviour at the wedding?

She became more and more aware of James as he sat opposite her, entertaining her with some stories from his student days; his lean body, grey eyes, and fair, slightly long hair. She could imagine him on the beach in Crete, bronzed and carefree.

She stretched lazily, and sat back on the wooden seat, her legs angled towards him. She was aware that he was watching her closely, too closely perhaps, and a feeling of desire began to spread slowly through her.

"You should be careful about sleeping in strange beds, you know," he said out of nowhere, his voice low.

"I'm sure I'm not the first woman you've found in your's," Leah joked back.

"Yes, but by invitation. I have to admit, I had mixed feelings when I saw you. In spite of your unflattering hairdo and that awful dress, some men might have taken advantage."

Leah suddenly found herself choking with laughter. She put her hand over her mouth, trying and failing to stop. It was no good, she couldn't control herself.

"What's so funny?" James asked sharply.

"It's
you
. I've just realised who you remind me of! Mr Darcy in
Pride and Prejudice
. The bit where he proposes to Elizabeth. He explains he has mixed feelings towards her, too ..."

"I'm not
proposing
to you," James interrupted.

"But then he goes on to say that she is so much below him in social status. You must know who I mean. Mr Darcy - aristocratic, wealthy, a bit of a stuffed shirt, pompous ..."

"Did you just say pompous?" he asked.

"Well, yes ..."

"Can you swim?" James enquired.

"Yes, why?" Leah was puzzled.

"Because I might just pick you up and throw you in the river," he answered as he leaned towards her.

Leah jerked backwards on the seat as his hand came out, grasping her behind her head.

She was afraid, just for a moment, that he was actually going to carry out his threat, but instead he tangled his fingers in her untidy hair and pulled her roughly towards him.

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