CHAINED TO YOU: The Contract (3 page)

“He likes the boy enough,” I said,
shrugging. “Besides, I offered him a job for now, and Andy
needed
that job and a place to stay. Matt will look after
him.”

I didn’t add the fact that William’s men
were hot after the boy. Andy was an important eyewitness to a deal
gone wrong a few months back. There had been a bit of backstreet
shooting and bashing, as per usual in our part of the world. Of
course, Andy would be dead in a few hours on the streets, even
under the cops’ protection, if not for Matt’s expertise.

Scott laughed. He understood why I was
keeping an eye on Andy. “You still want that two million back,
don’t you?”

I shrugged. Two million was a lot of money,
and I wouldn’t deny the fact that I wanted it returned to me. I
knew, however, there was no hope of seeing even a dollar back from
Andy himself. He was only twenty and barely able to survive in this
sick, competitive, cutthroat business world. He looked like a lost,
innocent lamb accidentally stepping into a pack of hungry
wolves.

His sister, however, was a different story.
She sounded like she had two million to spare, informing me via
email that she’d be over to negotiate for his release.

I wanted to laugh at the word
release
. It wasn’t like I was imprisoning Andy against his
will, for fuck’s sake.

“James, Scott, Eric.” Mr. Worthington’s
voice drew my attention. I turned, as did my brothers. I put on the
facade of the usual smile as I reached out one hand.

“Mr. Worthington,” I said. We clasped and
shook hands, strong and firm, confirming our confidence and power
to one another. Once released, he did the same to both Scott and
then Eric.

“So how’s your father?” the old man
asked.

I shot Eric a look, wondering how he’d
react. Ever since our dad’s announcement last week, informing us of
his intended marriage to a twenty-five-year-old, we’d been shocked.
But Eric was the most affected, since he’d thought his mother, a
half-Asian beauty who’d only died a couple years ago from cancer,
would be Dad’s last bride. After all, we’d known how much Dad loved
and cherished her for the last twenty-five years.

But then no one could stop the man from
falling in love again, even at fifty-eight and retired. The fact
that he’d only seen the young woman twice, according to our very
reliable source Lee, Dad’s chauffeur, didn’t dampen the old man’s
enthusiasm either. And Eric’s rage against the outrageous notion
certainly wouldn’t stop the planned ceremony that, I had no doubt,
would take place in the near future. She’d be wife number four. A
twenty-five-year-old woman would be our stepmother.

Just like Eric said…
It’s fucked up! So
fucked up.

“Good,” I said to Mr. Worthington. “He’s
good.”

“It’s unfortunate he couldn’t come,” Mr.
Worthington replied. “Maria would have been pleased.” At this
comment, he eyed his wife on the other side of the ballroom,
chatting with a group of people. “But never mind.” He smiled.
“Shall we go to my office?”

I smiled and nodded curtly.

The discussion went as planned, and by the
end of that short, unplanned session, an unofficial business
contract between the Maxwells and the Worthingtons was sealed.

It was an hour later, as I stood alone on
the balcony and looked out at the vast city below—a scene I was
used to and quite tired of—when Whitney approached me.

“Hello, James,” she greeted.

Irritation burst within me immediately. I
was pissed she was disturbing my peace, and I didn’t bother to hide
it. Reluctantly, I turned my attention to her, a dark scowl on my
face. “What do you want?”

She shrugged her slender shoulders
elegantly. Then she leaned close to me, her hand touching my arm,
lightly but intimately, like she used to do. I used to love it when
she touched me. But after witnessing her touching another man,
caressing his flesh and stroking his cock, it was quite different.
Not this current guy. Another one. I couldn’t remember who he was
now. He’d been a blur to me during the accidental discovery. I just
remembered feeling the shock and then the anger and disbelief that
my wife was fucking another man in our house. Well,
her
house now.

A sting of disgust burned my arm where she
still had her hand, and the urge to shove it away was strong.

“Don’t you miss this?” she asked, resting
her head on my shoulder.

Irritation surged stronger through my veins,
and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I propelled her off me and took a
step back. “What are you doing?”

“I thought you missed me,” she said, giving
me that beautiful smile of hers that used to bring me to my knees.
But not any longer. Now I only felt disgusted by it.

I folded my arms across my chest and chose
the subject I
needed
to discuss with her most. “Are you
planning on seeing Aria anytime soon?”

At the mention of our daughter, she became
agitated. “Well, you know, it’s better I don’t see her… yet.”

“For fuck’s sake, Whitney, give your own
daughter some of your time. It’s been three years.”

I hated to say the next sentence, because to
be honest, I didn’t want Aria to see Whitney, a mother who didn’t
give a shit about her own daughter. A mother who’d rather run off
with a man she’d been fucking than stay with her own
three-year-old, who cried and begged for her. But my heart hurt
like hell when I saw Aria so wounded every time I told her Whitney
wouldn’t be able to come.

“She misses you.”

Whitney frowned and snapped, “She was only
three. She can’t remember much of me.”

Her words pissed me off. I had to take a
deep breath to calm the wrath that was slowly building inside
me.

“And soon, she won’t remember you at all if
you don’t make any effort to see her,” I said coldly. I no longer
wanted to be there, no longer wanted to be near the woman who had
cheated on me—since the beginning of our relationship. I turned on
my heel and walked away.

“James, wait!”

“Whitney,” I said harshly over my shoulder,
“get your life straightened out and then come and see our daughter
once in a while.”

Back in the ballroom where billionaires and
millionaires mingled, I headed straight to my brothers.

“I’m leaving,” I said.

Scot eyed the balcony I’d just left and saw
Whitney there. He understood. “Kiss Aria for me,” he said.

“Me, too,” Eric chimed in. “And tell her I
already miss her.”

I laughed. The two were smitten with their
niece, of course. Thank God the little darling wasn’t one bit like
her mother, both in character and looks. Aria was a Maxwell through
and through. She took after me in every possible way, and I loved
her for that. Hell, I just loved her regardless. She was everything
to me, and I knew she wouldn’t disappoint me like her mother had,
throwing away my love like she did her no-longer-desired shoes or
dresses.

Fuck!
Love was meant to be
unconditional. A mutual feeling shared between two people, between
husband and wife, that lasted
‘til death do us part
. Not
something to be taken lightly and discarded without a second
thought.

At the door, I glanced once more at Whitney
and then left.

A sense of relief swept through me the
moment I slid into the black Ferrari. Switching on the engine, the
music blared into the confined space. Putting the gear on reverse,
I whipped out of the parking space, then exited the Worthington
estate.

A cool breeze washed against my skin, which
was nice. I let my mind drift off, thinking about everything and
nothing. It was some twenty minutes later when my cell phone rang.
I glanced at the screen and noted the name flashing at me. A smile
crept across my face. I quickly flicked on the loud speaker, at the
same time muting the music.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I greeted.

“Daddy?” came Aria’s voice.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Are you coming home soon?”

I laughed. “Yes. Have you finished your
piano lesson?”

A pause and then, “Yes. But, Daddy, Sammy
won’t eat the food I gave him. He’ll starve if he doesn’t eat. I’m
worried. He hasn’t been eating properly for days now. Should we
take him to the vet?”

I frowned. “I’ll be home in a minute, Aria.
Daddy will take care of it.”

“Really?” She laughed merrily, which made my
heart glow. “Daddy? I’ve just learned a new piece today. Do you
want to hear it?”

“Of course,” I said even though I knew she
was horrible at it. I didn’t think piano was her thing, but I
couldn’t say no because she’d wanted to learn so much.

“It was hard, but Mrs. West told me…”

I shook my head.
There she goes
again,
I thought.

“
Shit!”
I swore as my foot slammed
hard on the break whilst one hand pressed down on the horn and the
other expertly turned the steering wheel, veering the car out of
the way. The sound of tires screeching against asphalt was loud in
my ears. An agonizing short moment later, the car came to a
complete stop, missing hitting the girl by mere inches.

“Daddy?” A panicky voice reached me, and I
realized Aria was still on the line.

I took a deep breath and said calmly,
“Everything is okay, sweetheart. Just a rabbit on the road. I’ll
see you soon, all right?”

“All right,” Aria replied, uncertain.

I quickly cut the line and opened the
door.

The girl was sprawled on the ground, her
backpack and printout map scattered around her. Probably a tourist,
one who didn’t look like she knew where she was going.

I came to stand before her, concerned she
might be hurt. Slowly, I watched her drift her gaze up my legs and
then finally to my face. The moment I saw her fully, my gut churned
into a delicious twist of sensations. Large, frightened eyes gazed
up at me. Her face was flushed and delicately pretty. Long, tangled
braided hair rested haphazardly over one shoulder. The longer I
looked at her, the more I was convinced I’d seen her somewhere
before. Then it hit me!
Andy Donovan.
Fucking hell!
She looked like Andy Donovan. This had to be his sister.

I couldn’t believe Andy’s sister was this
young. She didn’t look much older than twenty. Her email suggested
otherwise, though. Short and to the point with a no-nonsense
fucking about the bush way. From the email, I thought she was in
her late thirties, armed with two million dollars.

I was wrong. I knew the moment I met her
eyes this girl didn’t have two
hundred
dollars in her
wallet, just like her brother.

Crouching down to one knee, I looked closely
at her. Then she had to go and lick her lips. My gaze was drawn to
the glistening plump flesh, and a surge of desire rushed through
me.
Oh shit!
Not a good first impression. Nothing good was
going to come out of this. The girl looked like she needed a good
ravishing, on those lips and maybe a lot of other places on her
body.

To distract myself, I asked, “Are you all
right?”

When she didn’t respond, I wrapped one hand
over her arm. Electrical sparks charged between us, and I felt the
wind knocked out of me.
Sparks!

Fuck!
I felt sparks for Andy
Donovan’s sister.

My hand tightened on her slender arm as I
felt a sudden, overwhelming yearning rush through me. I slammed
down the urge as quickly as it came. Slowly, I guided her up, my
gaze hot on hers. Then I took a step back, refusing to think about
the attraction that was slowly inching its way back to the
surface.

“Don’t walk onto the road without looking if
you don’t want to get hit,” I said.

“Thanks,” she replied softly, followed by a
tentative smile that took my breath away.

I walked away, reluctantly. In the car, I
switched on the engine and turned my gaze to watch her again,
curiously. She was busy gathering her belongings. Her actions were
delicate, and I had no idea why I found it so fascinating. After
pushing the gear forward, I pressed my foot on the accelerator and
sped past her, headed up the hill.

If she was coming up to see me about her
brother, she’d have a hell of a hike to get there. I hoped like
hell she wouldn’t. At least not now, not after I’d smelled her,
sweat and dirt mingled with something sweet, which was delightful.
Not after I’d seen the perfect color of her flushed face and felt
the softness of her milky white skin. She was too fucking tempting
by half. My hands itched and my cock stirred and hardened as blood
began to migrate there, readying the little beast for action.

I slammed the arousal shut at the same time
I pulled up the hand break. Switching the engine off, I took a deep
breath, my face dark with a scowl.

“Fuck!” I muttered under my breath as sexual
frustration spurred hot in my veins once again. I shut my eyes and
took another deep breath. A few seconds later, knowing the feeling
would be gone soon, I got out of the car and headed up to the front
door.

Ms. Lane, my housekeeper, waited for me.

“Where’s Aria?” I asked, my back to her as
she carefully pulled down my jacket.

“Upstairs in her sitting room, sir,” she
replied tonelessly.

I headed up the stairs two at a time. On the
second floor, I came into Aria’s sitting room. She was reading a
book, and Sammy and Alfie, two balls of white fur, one big and one
small, a samoyed and Westie, were beside her, resting their heads
on her lap. Ms. Sophie Wilson, Aria’s nanny, sat on a chair not too
far away. When I cleared my throat, Aria glanced up. Her face was
bright when she saw me.

“Daddy!” she squealed with delight, rushing
to me and throwing herself into my open arms. The two dogs were
after her and barked excitedly at my feet.

Lifting her, I kissed her on the cheek. “One
for me,” I said. Then I kissed her on the other cheek. “One for
Uncle Scott.” She giggled when I proceeded to kiss her forehead.
“And one for Uncle Eric.”