At His Word: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, Part 6

At His Word:
The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 6

By Delilah Fawkes

The elevator doors slid shut, and I gasped for air
as hot tears rolled down my cheeks. The car shuddered as it started moving, and
for a moment, I felt like the floor dropped out from underneath me, that
everything was slipping away. And maybe it was.

I took a deep breath and wiped my face as the
elevator slowed to a stop. Someone from the next floor down was getting on, and
I didn’t want a stranger to see me crying. I worked here, after all. It would
be no good for the whole company to know that Mr. Drake’s new assistant was
weeping in the elevator.

The doors slid open, and I shuffled back to make
room, my eyes downcast. The doors slid shut, but instead of pushing the button
for the floor he wanted, the man who entered slammed his hand onto the red
“stop” button.

“Don’t run from me like that again,” Mr. Drake
said.

My eyes snapped upward, meeting his. His hair was
disheveled, his breathing catching up like he’d run down a flight of stairs.
And I suppose he had.

“You came after me.”

I was in shock, standing there, staring at my
boss, my eyes still full of tears threatening to spill over once again. He took
two steps and pinned me against the mirrored wall of the elevator, his hands on
either side of me, effectively trapping me.

“You didn’t let me explain.”

I looked down at my shoes, anything to escape that
intense, green gaze. “What’s there to explain? She’s your fiancé, isn’t she? I
understand perfectly.”

I’m
just a fling on the side. You went slumming for a while, but when push comes to
shove, you’ll marry someone like you. Someone from your world.

Someone
you deserve.

He tilted my chin up with a gentle hand. “Look at
me.”

“I don’t want to,” I whispered. Tears threatened
to fall at any moment, and I didn’t want him to see me like this. Weak. Because
of him.

“Look at me, Isabeau.” His voice was harsh now,
brooking no further argument.

My eyes flicked upward, captured by his gaze. To
my surprise, he didn’t look angry at all, but instead his eyes pleaded with me.

“She’s just a friend of the family. My mother has
been trying to set me up with her since prep school, but I never agreed to it.
I’m with
you
,
Isa. Not her. Never her.”

I wanted to believe him. Wanted to fall into his
arms right then and there, but it all seemed too easy. Too good to be true.

“Then why are you going with her?”

He stared down at me, his brow furrowing. “It’s a
dinner party my family is throwing. I have to go, or it won’t look right.
Business associates will be there.”

He leaned in and kissed me slowly, his lips hot on
mine. My head buzzed, my thoughts a hopeless jumble. His mouth found my neck,
his hand winding in my hair and pulling it tight. My breath hitched, my body
responding to his touch. His tongue flicked over my collar bone, and I moaned
softly.

“Come with me,” he said, his breath tickling my
ear. “Let me introduce you to my family, Isa.”

I sighed against him, my anxiety melting as his
body pressed against mine. I squirmed against him, my needy clit finding his
rock hard thigh.

“You want me to go?”

His low laugh sent shivers down my spine. His
thigh rubbed against me, making me gasp.

“You’re mine. I can show you off as I please,
little slave.”

He grabbed my ass, lifting my leg over his,
grinding me harder. I was on fire for him, and still wet from our play in the
office, before all of this doubt and fear. Mr. Drake nibbled at my neck as he
rubbed me against him, my pussy throbbing with arousal even through the layers
of clothing separating us.

“Say you’ll join me. Be my date tonight.”

He kissed me, and I opened beneath him, sighing as
his tongue danced over mine. Jolts of pleasure raced through me as I rode him,
my hips undulating as he moved against me. I gasped as he bit my lip.

“I will,” I breathed.

“Good,” he said, grinning. “Now cum for me, Isa.”

He squeezed my ass, grinding me down harder, and I
gave in, letting go right then and there, trembling in his arms as my orgasm
crashed over me. I think I called out his name, my fingernails digging into his
shoulders as I shuddered against him, my pussy clenching again and again.

I was grinning when I finally came back down to
earth. Mr. Drake cocked an eyebrow at me.

“I think I’m going to need some fresh panties
before I meet your mother.”

He kissed my lips and smirked at me. “I’ll have
the driver stop on the way.”

***

Mr. Drake and I met Lex and Veronica in the lobby.
I tried not to glare at the owner of the high, breathy voice I’d heard earlier
from my position under the desk. The Future Mrs. Drake was a thin, icy blonde
with a lip glossed smile glued onto her face. It faltered when she saw me step
out of the elevator, but snapped back like rubber when she saw Mr. Drake. Lex
was leaning against a marble column, looking positively bored. His black eyes
twinkled when he saw me, his grin making me blush.

“Chasey, about time! I was starting to think you
forgot about me.” Veronica pouted, crossing her arms over her pink sheath
dress, her diamond necklace shifting against her throat.

“Veronica, I’d like you to meet my assistant, Isabeau.
Isabeau, Veronica. Our families have known each other since we were children.”

I shook her hand more firmly than I should have,
forcing a smile. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Yes, well,” she said, looking me up and down.
“When are we leaving, Chasey? Are you driving?”

“Isabeau and I will be making a quick stop before
we arrive. Lex, would you please take Ms. Chambers in your car?”

“Before
we
arrive?” Veronica raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, her cool blue eyes
narrowing.

“Yes. Isa will be escorting me this evening. I
hope my mother didn’t mislead you, Veronica. I said I would attend, but never
made any definite arrangements.”

I looked up at Mr. Drake. His face was a blank
mask; his emotions unreadable. Veronica ran a hand over her coiffure, and stood
a little straighter.

“Of course. No problem at all. I’ll see you
there.”

Mr. Drake took my hand and placed it in the crook
of his arm before leading me out to the parking lot. His hand closed over mine,
and my skin tingled at the touch. The gesture was so gentlemanly... so
protective
. I felt
my cheeks heating in the crisp night air.

“Do you think she was disappointed?”

I smiled at him as he opened the car door for me.

“I can guarantee it,” he said, his lips twitching
into a half grin.

I slid into my seat and straightened my skirt
against the leather, my heart fluttering at the fact that this man had just
chosen me over someone like that. Maybe I had nothing to worry about. Maybe
this mysterious man meant exactly what he said when he claimed I was his.

***

The Bentley’s headlights shone on a large,
wrought-iron gate, leading to the biggest house I’d ever seen in my life. It
actually looked like Mr. Darcy’s manor from the Colin Firth version of Pride
and Prejudice--a sprawling construction that looked more like an ancient castle
than anywhere an American family would live. We were at the top of a hill, the
Drake estate tucked back away from the other wealthy residences, their window-covered
walls glinting in the moonlight as we drove past.

Mr. Drake rolled down his window and pressed the intercom
button. “Chase Drake.”

“Nice to see you again, Sir,” piped the voice
through the speaker. There was a quick buzz, and then the gates rolled to the
side, allowing entrance to the grounds.

I sank into my seat, the enormity of what I was
about to do overwhelming me. I was about to enter a party in Mr. Drake’s
childhood home. I was about to meet his mother. Suddenly, it was too hot in the
car, my body sweating beneath the designer clothing he’d chosen for me. Would
she approve of me for her son? Or would she be able to tell with just one look
that I was a nobody--just some temp he decided to sleep with this week?

The car rolled forward, and I swallowed hard.

By the time we were parked, nestled next to
Mercedes, BMW's, and what looked like James Bond's Aston Martin, my mouth was bone
dry. Mr. Drake's hand on my leg made me jump.

"Are you okay, Isa? You look positively
shaken."

"I'm fine. Really."

How could I tell a man like this that this kind of
thing terrified me? That I knew I wasn't good enough? That just the sight of a
house like this made me want to curl up into a ball and disappear? He would
never understand. How could he, when he grew up here?

"You're not fine, Isabeau. You're missing something."
His voice was low, with a hint of humor in it.

"Missing something?"

"Of course, little slave," he said, his
hand caressing my throat. "Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

I sucked in a breath, the touch of this thumb over
my delicate skin making me shiver with longing.

"I gave you that collar to wear, not to leave
behind when you left this morning. A beautiful woman like you should always wear
beautiful things."

He reached into the glove compartment and pulled
out a velvet box. When he opened it, the diamonds on the platinum choker glittered
in the moonlight. I looked down at my hands, clasped in my lap.

"It feels like too much."

"Isabeau." Mr. Drake tilted my chin up,
forcing me to meet his gaze. "It's not too much, and it makes me happy to
give it to you. Please wear it. Let the world see that you are mine."

Hesitantly, I ran a finger over the charm in the
shape of a lock, caressing its edges. "Alright. But I feel silly wearing
something so extravagant."

"Trust me, Isa. No one will think twice
seeing it around your neck."

He brushed my hair off my shoulders and fastened
it for me. His fingers trailed from the lock down the skin exposed by my
blouse, before dipping beneath the silk and tracing the top of my cleavage. My
body heated in response to his touch, and suddenly, I wished we didn't have to
be here. That we could go straight back to his home and he could savage me in
his dungeon. I moaned at the thought. Looking up into those green eyes of his,
I knew he was thinking the same thing.

He drew his hand back and sighed.

"Let's go."

***

I found myself touching the necklace for
reassurance as I strolled at Mr. Drake's side through the crowd of dinner
guests. As if the honest-to-God butler who showed us in wasn't enough, the
house itself was covered in luxuries that made my eyes pop. A fabrige egg stood
on a polished silver stand next to marble statuettes in an enormous glass case,
and oil paintings of who I assumed were family members lined the walls. The
place reeked of old money in a way that made the hair on my neck stand on end.

What could I possibly have to say to someone who
lived in a place like this? Would his family hate me right away, or would they
wait until I inevitably made a fool of myself to shun me?

I closed my eyes and balled my hands into fists.
Just breathe...

Mr. Drake's hand on my arm brought me back.
"Relax, Isa. You're doing fine."

He smiled, and my heart warmed at the way his eyes
crinkled ever so slightly in the corners. I wanted to stand on my tip toes and
kiss him then and there, but I settled for putting my hand in his and letting
him lead me through the room.

"Chase, darling. So glad you could make it
after all, although I wouldn't know it from all those calls you ignored."

"Hello, Mother. You look lovely, as
always."

Mr. Drake leaned over and kissed her papery cheek.
She was in her sixties with silvery blonde hair swirled into an elegant up-do.
Her hard, grey eyes assessed me, roaming from the top of my wavy hair down to
the points of my heels, before coming back up to rest on the choker.

"Yes, well. Some of us have to keep up
appearances." She touched the strand of pearls at her throat and pursed
her coral lips.

Mr. Drake's hand on the small of my back was a
reassuring presence.

"Mother, let me introduce you to Isabeau
Willcox. Isabeau, this is Madeline Drake."

"Another one of your colleagues, Chase?
Should I even bother remembering her name?" She extended her hand, and I
took it out of habit, although I felt like my jaw had hit the floor at her
words. "Nice to meet you, Miss Flavor-of-the-Week. Now, if you'll excuse
me?'

"Mother," he began, his voice low and
dangerous, but she was already waving to a guest, smiling warmly.

"Please ignore her," he growled.
"She's... not easy to please."

I swallowed hard. Even dressed like this, she saw
me as a nobody. Just another one of Mr. Drake's girls. Not worth remembering.

"I can see that."

"Isa." He clasped my hand in his, before
bringing it to his lips. "I've never brought a date to this house
before."

My eyes widened as I met his gaze. "Then,
what did she-?"

"I've brought a few women to fundraisers and
the like when I needed someone on my arm, but never here. Never to my old home.
Never to meet her."

I grinned. "I can't imagine why not."

Mr. Drake laughed, the sound making my heart beat
faster. "It wasn't worth it for anyone else."

Before I could wrap my head around that sentiment,
a man with a tray of wine glasses approached, and then another with h'ors
d'oeuvres. I sipped the wine, letting the taste roll over my tongue. It was by
far the best sauvignon blanc I’d ever tasted. How did I get here, eating and
drinking in a veritable castle, with people who never would have given me the
time of day if I weren’t on the arm of their billionaire golden boy? It was
more than overwhelming. It was surreal.