ROMANCE: BAD BOY ROMANCE: M.V.B. - Most Valuable Baby (Sports Secret Baby Romance) (Contemporary Interracial Pregnancy Romance) (38 page)

“Oh,” she said, realizing that his question might not have been as offensive as she took it to me. 

“You can try on everything later,” he said reaching out his hand for her to take. 

She placed her hand in his nervously. When he wrapped his strong fingers around hers, her heart began to race. He led her back into the bedroom and towards the bed. He reached up with his free hand and pulled back one of the drapes surrounding it. Lying across the bed was a beautiful red dress. It looked simple but elegant. “I would like you to wear this to dinner tonight,” he said dropping her hand and lifting the dress up. 

“Tonight?” she asked taking the dress from his hands and holding it up against her. She walked to the mirrors and observed her reflection. 

“Yes. You’ll need to be in the dining room in an hour,” he said as he followed her, also looking at her in the mirror. 

“An hour?” she turned to him, her eyes wide. “I don’t know if I can be ready…” 

“You need to be, Margaret.” 

“But…” 

“I need to know that you’ll be available to me whenever I ask you to be,” he explained calmly. 

“Mr. McGuire,” she began nervously, “what are my hours exactly?” 

“It’s a live-in position. I thought that was clear.” 

“Yes, but, I do have some off time, right? I have time to do my own things?” She felt a sinking sensation in her chest. What had she gotten herself in to? 

“I need you to be here whenever I need you. I need you to be ready and available at a moment’s notice,” he replied.

When he left her to get ready for dinner, the excitement that had filled her upon seeing the room had all but gone. Would she have time to pursue her dream? Would she be able to go to auditions and try-outs? What could he possibly need her for 24/7? 

As she held up the dress and looked at herself in the mirror again, she thought of the alternative—sleeping on Liz’s couch, or going back to live with her parents. “Well,” she said to herself, “if this gets too out of hand, I’ll just leave. He can’t force me to stay here forever. It’s worth a shot, I guess.” 

CHAPTER FIVE

When Henry showed her into the dining room, later on, she was once again overwhelmed by what she saw. Everything was pristine and elegant. The huge, dark wooden table consumed most of the room, and could have easily sat 30 people. But sitting there, alone, was Joshua. He was at the head of the table, and he stood to welcome her, pulling out the chair to his right for her to sit in. He had also changed into a suit, and he looked even more handsome and sophisticated than usual. 

“Thank you,” she said as she took her seat. 

“You look lovely,” he said to her as he sat next to her. 

“You look very nice as well.” She tried to keep her face from turning red and her voice from shaking. 

“I hope you like steak,” he said as he looked over his shoulder. 

“Who doesn’t?” she replied with a giggle.

“Great.” He clapped his hands twice. She looked behind him and saw Henry appear through a swinging door, two plates in his hands. 

Throughout the meal, she couldn’t help but feel more and more intrigued by the man sitting next to her. He was suave and refined. He said all the right things at all the right times. He was no longer the forward, borderline offensive man she met at the interview. He was gentlemanly in every respect of the word.

She couldn’t understand why there wasn’t a woman in his life besides her? Not just one woman, she couldn’t understand why there wasn’t a line of women waiting to be with him! Why would he be spending his night with her, of all people? 

“So, tell me, Margaret,” he said after taking a long sip of wine. “What did you do before coming to work for me?”

“I was trying to be an actress,” she said almost embarrassed. “I wasn’t doing very well at it, though.” 

“You’re not from the city originally,” he observed.

“Is it really that obvious?” she asked wrinkling up her nose. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Joshua replied. 

“Everyone around me seems to think it is.” She shrugged. “They all think I’m too ‘small town’ to make it in the big city.” 

“Now see, when I look at you I don’t see that.” 

“Really?” she asked, looking at him over the rim of her wine glass. She took a long sip before setting it down. “What do you see?” 

“I see someone who is genuine—real.” As he spoke, he looked her deep in the eyes, causing goose bumps to run up her arms. “I see someone that hasn’t been hardened by life and turned bitter; someone who doesn’t need the approval of all those other people, because she’s doing what she wants, and nothing is going to stop her.” 

She let out a nervous giggle, not because of what he was saying, but because of how what he said made her feel. “Well, apparently looking genuine and resilient isn’t enough to get a paid acting job.” 

“At least you have this job,” he said smiling. 

She took another sip of her wine, trying not to get swept away in his words and his eyes. She couldn’t help but feel herself become more and more attracted to him. As she set her glass down, she had to stop herself from reaching out to brush the back of her hand against his. She remembered the feeling of his hand wrapped around hers, and found herself longing for that feeling again. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him. 

She tried to shake the thoughts from her head, focusing on the food, wine, and conversation. “What about you?” she asked him shyly. “What do you do?” 

“I’m a man of business,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“What kind of business?” she asked. 

“Nothing that would interest you,” he replied. “Hell, it barely interests me!” He laughed a little, and Margaret joined in, perhaps laughing a little too hard—like a schoolgirl trying pathetically to flirt with her crush.

She felt her face blush red. He laughed again, this time at her discomfort. “I like your laugh,” he said reaching out and placing his hand on hers. 

The contact sent a rush flooding over her. She wanted that instant to last forever. When he pulled his hand back quickly, she felt a desire to reach out and pull his hand back, holding it tightly in hers, not wanting to let the connection fade. 

Her own reaction made her become more flustered. She tried to reach for her glass, but her hand was shaking slightly, and she ended up knocking it over. “I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, standing up quickly and grabbing a napkin to begin mopping up the mess. 

“Don’t worry about that, Margaret,” Joshua said, a hint of amusement in his voice. 

“No, I’m so clumsy!” she scolded herself. “I can’t believe… God! How embarrassing!” She continued to try to mop up the red liquid that was spreading slowly across the table. 

“Henry!” Joshua called out. “Really, Margaret. Leave it.” Even though his statement came in the form of a command, it was stated in a caring, almost concerned way. 

“I should go to bed,” she said, dropping the cloth napkin into the puddle of wine. “I’m just tired, that’s all. I really should get some sleep.” 

As she collected herself to leave, Henry appeared at the swinging door behind Joshua. “Yes, sir?” he asked.

“Will you clean this up?” Joshua said motioning to the spilled wine and empty plates. 

“Of course, sir,” he replied. He began collecting the plates and cups and disappeared back through the door he had come from. 

“Good night, Mr. McGuire,” Margaret said as she turned to head back to her room. 

“Margaret,” Joshua said standing quickly to his feet. “I need something from you first.” 

She turned to look back at him. “What is it?” she asked nervously. 

“It’s the most important part of your job.” 

CHAPTER SIX

As she followed him down the long hallway, Margaret became more and more worried. What was he going to ask of her? Was he going to ask for sex? Are her fears coming true? Maybe she shouldn’t have taken the job? Maybe she should have just sucked it up and slept on Liz’s couch a little longer until she found something a little more socially acceptable? 

  She could barely hear their steps echoing down the long passageway over the pounding of her heart in her ears. She was about to tell him she was uncomfortable again, but she knew that would only lead him to say something she didn’t completely understand. 

When he stopped abruptly in front of the last door on the right, she was sure that even he could hear her heart beating quickly and loudly in her chest. The door was different than all of the others. It wasn’t wooden but metal. Margaret broke out into a cold sweat, and her legs began to tremble. 

He didn’t seem to notice her nervousness, however. He didn’t turn to look at her as he punched in a set of numbers into an electronic keypad. “23-56-92-03,” he said to her over his shoulder. “Can you remember that?” 

“Umm…” she started, her voice cracking. “23-56-93…” 

“No!” he yelled as he turned to face her. His face wasn’t angry, but she could tell that he was very serious about her remembering the combination.

“23-56-92-03,” he said again loudly. She repeated the numbers correctly. He made her do it again, and then again. “It’s very important that you remember the combination, Margaret.” 

“Okay,” she replied, her voice airy and weak. 

As he pushed the door open slowly, he kept his gaze locked on her. She peered into the room, nervously. What she saw was exactly what she was afraid of. There were chains coming down from the ceiling and up from the floor. This is what he needed from her. He needed her to fulfill his twisted fantasies. He was going to chain her up! She wanted to run. She wanted to get as far from that room as possible. But something inside her kept her feet rooted to the ground. Was it fear? Curiosity? Shock? It didn’t matter the reason; she couldn’t pull herself away. 

He walked into the room in front of her and blocked her view of the room. He turned to look down at her, his face appearing almost remorseful. He studied her expression for a moment. Something about the way he moved, the way he breathed, the way he looked at her, made her feel an overwhelming sense of compassion for him. She could see something behind his eyes—something sad. “I’ll need you to come here every night at 11:00pm,” he said slowly.

“Every night?” she tried to ask, but when she opened her mouth nothing came out. 

He smiled at her weakly as he slid off his suit jacket and tossed it into the corner of the room. He turned away from her and walked to where the chains were piled on the floor. She took a quick step back, trying to will herself to run. “I need you to restrain me,” he said leaning over and picking up the chains. 

“What?” she asked. 

“Here,” he said turning to hand her one of the chains in his hand. It was one that was connected to the ceiling. “This goes on my wrist,” he explained as he held it out to her. 

“I’m…” she started. 

“Uncomfortable?” he asked her. He let out a weak laugh and set his eyes on hers.  

“Yea,” she smiled as she walked towards him. When she took the chain from him, her fingers brushed lightly against his. The sensation filled her with an odd, unexpected feeling of comfort. She tightened the leather strap around his wrist. 

“Tighter,” he said when she stepped back. 

A little thrown off she stepped forward quickly and began fumbling nervously at the restraint. As she worked her hands began to shake. “Margaret,” he said, leaning down and speaking to her softly. “Don’t be nervous. Don’t be scared.” She looked up slowly. She hadn’t realized how close he was to her. He reached his free hand out and brushed back a strand of hair from her face. “Please don’t be scared.” 

Again, she couldn’t speak, but now it wasn’t the confusion or worry that kept her voice trapped in her throat—it was him. His touch was soft and his eyes were piercing. She just nodded and turned to get back to working on the strap. 

When she had gotten that one done tight enough, she began working on his other wrist, then his right ankle, and finally his left. She stepped back, not sure what to do now. “Thank you, Margaret,” he said no longer looking her in the eye. His gaze was fixed on the ground in front of him. The confident air he always seemed to carry himself with was completely gone. He looked almost ashamed. “Do you remember the code?”