At His Warning (The Billionaire’s Beck and Call #8)(2)
Author: Delilah Fawkes

He paused, sighing, and I could see how the memory still pained him.

“It got to him. How could it not?”

“That would be terrible for any child. Being compared like that.”

Mr. Drake slipped his fingers through mine and squeezed them. “He pretended that he didn’t care, and for a while, I believed him. I was young and foolish. I thought we were as close as brothers when we founded this business together.”

He brought my hand up to his lips and kissed it softly. “But, as you know, things change. These problems always have a way of coming to the surface.”

I looked up and brushed my fingers over his jaw line, tracing the lines that gave him such masculine beauty.

“Thank you,” I said.

“For what?”

“For believing in me. For believing I wouldn’t betray you.”

He leaned in, kissing me in a way that stole my breath away.

“Isabeau, you don’t have a cruel bone in your body.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Just the way you are. How you took care of your family. How you take care of me,” he said. “I’ll always believe in you. You make it easy.”

I kissed him back, releasing my fear and doubt in that moment, letting the feel of his lips on mine wash away my worries. He believes in me…

I moaned, opening my mouth to him, my tongue exploring his languidly as the kiss deepened. I was lost in a haze of sensuality when he pulled away.

“Not tonight.”

I leaned in, trying to capture his lips again, but he held me by my shoulders.

“Why not?”

He chuckled low in his throat. “You’re drunk.”

“I don’t care.”

His eyes flashed in warning. “I’m going to bring you some aspirin and a glass of water. Take them and hydrate, then get some sleep. That’s not a request.”

“But, I-”

I closed my mouth at the look on his face. He would not be disobeyed, even though I could tell by the tenting in his pants he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I wanted nothing more than to reach over and stroke him through the fabric, to unzip him slowly and reach in, wrapping my hand around his hard length. Instead, I nodded, sighing. It would do no good. Chase Drake had made up his mind.

After the water and the pills, he undressed me and lay down behind me, spooning me to him.

“You know I want you, too, Isa,” he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. “But I won’t make love to you when you can’t properly consent.”

I snuggled back against him, his words making me feel desired. Protected.

He believed me. He took care of me. He held me close to him when I needed him by my side.

I was safe in the arms of Mr. Drake.

And I knew I always would be.

***

Morning arrived, bringing with it a dull, thumping headache and a whole new batch of problems.

I rolled over and rested my head on Mr. Drake’s chest, breathing in the delicious mixture of his spiced cologne and the musky smell that was all him. I ran my hand lightly through the sprinkling of hair over his pecs, listening to the steady sound of his breathing. If I could have stayed in bed with him all day, I would have, maybe watching old movies and ordering room service to ease my hangover. But I knew we still had investors to please and tasks to accomplish. I sighed with longing and pressed a kiss to his skin.

Despite the throbbing in my skull, I still wanted him, wanted to tease him and stroke him before feeling him inside of me. I ran my hand lower, skimming over the hard planes of his abdomen before sliding below the sheets.

A rough hand grabbed my wrist, Mr. Drake’s low laugh rumbling through his chest.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?”

I laughed, too, then touched my head and winced. Too loud. Mr. Drake pulled back and smoothed my hair away from my face.

“Headache?”

I nodded. “Mmm hmm.”

“Aren’t you supposed to use that as an excuse not to make love, Isa? You seem to be doing this all wrong.”

I stretched back on my pillow, letting the sheets fall off my full br**sts. I smiled as his eyes traveled downward, his pupils darkening.

“But what if making love will cure me? Isn’t it worth a try?”

He looked like he wanted to pounce on me, but then furrowed his brow. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Maybe we could… go slow?” I pulled the sheet lower, letting the cotton slide down, revealing the curves of my body.

He groaned as he watched, his hands soon wandering where his eyes had traveled. His fingers grazed my sex, lightly playing over my folds as I gasped. Our lips met as he stroked me softly, his tongue sliding across my teeth.

“I don’t usually do it like this,” he said. “But right now, I just want to make you feel as good as possible.”

I grinned, thinking of his dungeon. No kidding.

But I groaned as he leaned down and kissed his way around each breast, stopping to lap at each nipple until it tightened into a peak. I loved that he could be as tender as he was rough, drawing pleasure out of me the way a master musician draws beauty from his instrument.

When he entered me, it was slow and steady, his h*ps rocking forward and back, letting me adjust as we began our slow dance together. He looked into my eyes as we moved, the rhythm of his body matching each hitch of my breath, each small moan escaping from my lips.

When we came together, he kissed me, stealing my cries away, making me feel like we were part of one whole, one body, each part moving in perfect unison.

We lay together intertwined, tasting one another, touching and whispering, until the shriek of the hotel alarm clock brought our intimate moment to a halt.

It was the last day with the investors, after all.

We had work to do.

***

The morning activities were almost underway, but instead of facilitating, Mr. Drake wanted me to go back to the office ahead of him and gather the company’s financial records from the last ten years. In secret and alone.

He gave me the master key to the CFO’s office and sent me on my way with a look that sent chills down my spine.

“These losses are not a coincidence, Isa. We have to find out what Lex did before he ruins this company. People are depending on us.”

I nodded, my fists clenching by my sides. Could I do this? Sneak into the offices and get the documents while he distracted the investors?

As if he could read my mind, he said, “You’re the only one who can help me. Now go.”

So, I went.

The CFO’s office wasn’t as large as Mr. Drake’s, but it felt vast as I fumbled for the light switch, the rows of filing cabinets rearing up as looming shadows against the curtain-covered windows. I found what we needed and began moving stacks of files onto my boss’ desk, almost jumping out of my skin when the air conditioning switched on with a rumble. The building was, thankfully, empty, and I scurried from office to office without seeing another soul.