And now she’s mine.
She’d signed on the dotted line, confirming what I already knew; this girl was made for me.
The combination of her beauty and confidence had my balls tight and my body on fire for her. This wasn’t some dumb club bimbo who’d say whatever she thought I wanted to hear just so she could try and get some money out of me. This was a girl who didn’t take any shit from anybody—the kind of girl who could be a real match for me.
All of a sudden, my future was clear to me.
I’d told Heather to cancel the rest of the interviews we had planned and had my lawyer make the quick adjustments to the contract.
Then, I’d had something special messengered over…something just for her.
Barely keeping my shit together, I held her soft hand and led her up the stairs to the second floor and down the hall to my bedroom wing. Normally, this was the part of the tour where girls gasped and oohed and aahed over the wood paneling and priceless art hanging all over, but Belle said nothing.
And I loved her for that.
“What…kind of work do you have for me?” she asked.
“Nothing too crazy,” I told her as I pushed the door open to my wardrobe room. It was larger than the walk-in connected to my bedroom and was where I kept special items, including the one I had ready for her.
She tried not to, but I heard a slight gasp as we stepped inside. The room was bigger than most people’s living rooms, stocked with stuff I hadn’t even worn yet.
In the center of the room was a wide white table that rose out of the floor like an altar, and on top of it, was Belle’s special gift.
“What is that?” she asked.
“That, Belle, is your work outfit,” I told her. “And I need you to put it on now.”
I looked over at her and saw the blush rise in her cheeks until she was as red as a tomato.
She’s shy, I realized. I love it…
“My work outfit,” she repeated as she stared at the French maid’s outfit I’d had brought in from the city from one of the top costume designers who did all the big parties in the city and also worked for Hollywood from time to time.
“That’s right, gorgeous,” I smiled. “Just for you.”
“But I—”
“This isn’t a request,” I told her. “It’s mandatory.”
“Mandatory?” she gasped. “Who do you think I am?”
“You are Belle, my new maid.”
“Housekeeper!” she replied quickly. I grinned as I boned up even more.
“You are my new maid,” I repeated. “And you signed the contract. Now, are you going to go back on your word, or are you going to put on your outfit for me?”
I could see the civil war going on inside her. She wanted to put it on—she did—but even after signing the contract, she wanted to remain professional. Her spunk made me want her even more.
“Fine,” she replied. But she didn’t move. Obviously she was waiting for me to leave the room so she could change, but that wasn’t going to happen.
“Go on,” I told her.
“You go on,” she replied. “I’m not changing in front of you.”
“Oh, no?” I asked, stepping closer so her scent filled my nostrils. “Is that insubordination?”
“Look, just because I signed the contract doesn’t mean I have to do everything you say! It doesn’t mean I have to change in front of you.”