Bowles, Jan - Love Slave to the Sicilian Billionaire [Guilty Pleasures 4] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) (2 page)

BOOK: Bowles, Jan - Love Slave to the Sicilian Billionaire [Guilty Pleasures 4] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)
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Chapter Two

One week later

Max rubbed a hand through his hair, and then logged off the computer. He kneaded his fingers into the tight muscles of his neck. It had taken two hours to complete the final amendments to his bid. The construction rights to build the latest shopping mall in Butler County were now finalized. All he had to do was submit his tender.

He swiveled in his chair and looked out of the office window. The headquarters of his company, M. D. Construction, were situated on the tenth floor of the newly built office block, providing him with excellent views over all of Wichita. The Arkansas River, winding its way through the city, glistened in the late afternoon sun. It wasn’t often he had time to admire the view, but today he would allow himself to enjoy it. After all, his construction company was thriving. He’d built it up from nothing, with his own hands and little capital. He was very proud of what he’d achieved. There were several projects in the pipeline at the moment, and many more in varying stages of development. It was a far cry from his earlier years as a poorly paid construction worker. He was his own boss.

The intercom buzzed on his desk and he lazily flicked a switch.

“Yes, Becky?”

“Max, Ella is here to see you.” Before he had time to reply, his secretary added, “She says it’s important.”

He paused for a moment, contemplating if he could avoid the meeting. He didn’t want this conversation, but Ella was a hard woman to ignore. If he didn’t speak with her now, he knew she’d be waiting for him outside when he left the building. He sighed heavily, and then answered, “Send her in.” Better to have this conversation in private, rather than in front of all his staff.

Within a few seconds, Ella came through the door, looking as elegant as ever. He could smell her seductive perfume as soon as she entered. He wondered if it was a trick of the light, but she appeared even thinner, her face even more drawn than when he’d seen her last. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Her black, hip-hugging jeans with matching knee-high leather boots only accentuated her slender frame. A plum silk blouse, which opened modestly at the neckline, revealed the black velvet choker around her neck once more. Only this time, a pearl, tear-shaped droplet hung from the center. In any other life, Ella was a woman he would strive to possess, mind, body, and soul, until he had her complete submission. He wiped a hand over his face. My God, Kirk was barely cold in his grave, and he was already thinking sexually about his best friend’s wife—albeit an adulterous wife. Max quashed those thoughts and pointed to the leather chair opposite his desk.

“Take a seat, Ella.”

He apprehensively tapped an index finger against his chin as she slowly took the seat. Bright blue eyes looked accusingly at him.

“What’s going on, Max?”

“Going on? I don’t know what you mean?” He knew full well that he’d avoided her for the last week. His best friend was dead, and he blamed her.

“You said you’d call.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“It’s more than that.”

He sighed. There was no way around this. “Would you like a coffee? I can get Becky to fix you one.”

Ella looked irritated, and moved uneasily in her seat. “No, I don’t want a coffee, Max. I just get the feeling you’re avoiding me. I know you’re grieving for Kirk, but I need to talk to you. I can’t reveal these things to anyone else. They wouldn’t understand.”

“Look, Ella.” He waved his hands in a dismissive manner. “There’s no need to say anything. I already know.”

Ella’s face held a picture of surprise. “You do? But you never said.”

“Why would I. It was a personal matter between you and Kirk. It’s none of my business.”

“Oh? And what is that?”

“Do I really need to spell it out for you?” Max absently moved some papers around on his desk. Ella was making this difficult for him.

A quizzical look formed on her face. “Max, are we talking about the same thing here?”

“Ella, don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?” Her voice rose an octave, and she gritted her teeth. “Max, you’re scaring me. I need to know exactly what you’re talking about.”

“Why? What does it matter now? Kirk’s dead, and there’s nothing we can do or say to bring him back.”

Color began to tinge her cheeks, and she shook her head. “No, no, you’re blaming me for something. I can see it in your eyes, Max. You can’t hide it. That’s why you’ve been avoiding me. I want to know what you mean. Tell me.”

“Very well. I didn’t want this conversation, Ella. I’ve been avoiding you like hell this last week, but since you insist.” He breathed in, trying to contain his anger. There sat the woman who’d sent his best friend over the edge, and she had the audacity to demand he tell her? Well, he’d give it to her straight. “I know you were having an affair.”

* * * *

“What?” Stunned, Ella simply shook her head. It felt ready to explode with this new information. She felt as though Max had slapped her face. “Affair? I never had an affair.”

Max waved his hand disparagingly in the air. “I saw you, Ella. You’re fucking another guy. Kirk must have found out. It must have broken his heart. Deny it if you dare.”

“I emphatically deny it.”

“Do you deny your marriage was over?”

“We both already knew it was. It was over a long time before he went on his last tour of duty to Afghanistan.”

“I told you I didn’t want this conversation. That’s why I’ve not returned your calls.” Max rubbed his hand over his face.

“I didn’t have an affair, Max. You do believe me?”

Max grimaced and held up his hands in silent appeal. His silver-gray eyes bored into her, then he turned away and looked out the window. “Don’t make me say it.”

“I want to know exactly what you think, Max.”

He turned back toward her. “I followed you, Ella. I saw you.”

“Saw me?” Ella felt her brows draw together. The only time she’d been on her own recently was to get some advice from an ex-Marine who had suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. The guy had never really filtered back into mainstream society properly, just like Kirk. She wanted a better understanding of the debilitating illness. They’d met at a run-down motel where the guy currently lived on benefits, and had spoken at great length. He’d given her some good advice, including coping strategies for both herself and Kirk, and phone numbers for professional help, should she need it. Immediately she clasped her hand to her mouth, her eyes fixed on Max. “Oh, God, no.”

The hostility in Max’s eyes was unnerving. He thought his friend had been wronged. Max needed to know what Kirk was truly capable of. Intense anger flowed through her veins. “Fuck you, Max. I can see I’m wasting my breath trying to convince you. You’ve already made up your mind. Kirk had become agitated, and I went to see an ex-Marine. His name had been given to me by one of Kirk’s buddies who was concerned about his irrational behavior in Afghanistan. Post-traumatic stress and all its associated problems were pretty common after a tour of duty in the hellhole that is Afghanistan. I was at the end of my tether. I needed help, and I needed to help Kirk. I only wanted some advice, that was all. If you followed me and put two and two together to make five, then that’s your problem. I didn’t have an affair, and it really scares me that Kirk may have thought I did. Did you tell him?”

“No.”

“I know that’s not why he killed himself.” With trembling hands, she ripped the choker from her neck and pulled the collar of her blouse apart to expose her throat. “See this, Max. See the bruises. It’s been twelve days since Kirk tried to kill me. He tried to strangle me. Look, Mr. Judgmental, the bruises are still there. See. He gripped my neck so tightly, I passed out. That’s why Kirk shot himself. He thought he’d killed me. When I came to, I found him dead in the car with his brains spread over the windshield and upholstery.”

Once she’d regained consciousness, she’d searched the whole house in panic for her husband. Nothing. As a last resort she went into the garage. As soon as she saw the car, she knew. Blood splattered every window. That image had branded itself in her mind. If she closed her eyes she could still picture the horrifying, gory scene.

Ella clasped her hands to her head. The tears now flowed freely. “Do you know what it’s like to see the person you once loved vacant and expressionless, with half their face blown away?” She shook her head, feeling her world crumbling around her. “As you say, Max, it’s all my fault. Kirk’s dead, and it’s all my fault.” It felt difficult to breathe, and she gasped for air, choking on her sobs. “God, why did this have to happen?”

Without knowing, Max had walked around his desk. As soon as he touched her head she stiffened. Max of all people should believe her. Why didn’t he?

“I’m sorry, Ella. I didn’t know.” He squatted down in front of her and gently cupped her chin. “Let me see.” He raised her chin exposing her bare neck. Through blurred vision she saw him studying the bruises. “Have you seen a doctor?” His fingers glanced across her skin, smoothing over the bare flesh of her throat, sending tiny shock waves throughout her body.

“No,” she answered, aware now of every inch of the man hunkered down before her. His broad shoulders pressed against the white shirt he wore, and she couldn’t help but focus on his open collar, and the five o’clock shadow that stained his jaw. “Everything Kirk had achieved would account for nothing if this had gotten out. He was a hero. He won a Purple Heart, for fuck’s sake. I only wanted his parents to remember that. How would it have helped an elderly couple by telling them the son that they loved so dearly had become so paranoid and delusional that he’d tried to strangle his own wife?” Ella felt her lips tremble as she stared into Max’s eyes. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You did the right thing. At least Kirk will be remembered for the guy he was. A great friend and husband.” He pulled her into his arms and gently stroked a hand into her hair as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. He felt warm and powerful, but he also felt aloof, too. She knew it would take him a long time to come to terms with everything he’d heard. Feeling totally bereft and alone, her tears slipped onto the white linen of his shirt, staining the crisp material.

“You can’t hate me any more than I hate myself right now,” she confided in him.

Max didn’t answer. He just breathed in, and then pulled slightly away. He held his hand to her neck. “I want you to get this looked at.”

“No, it’s okay.”

He shook his head. “Listen to me. You will go to the doctors and get them to look at it. Your voice is huskier than usual. Your vocal cords might be damaged.” When she didn’t answer he continued, “Be a good girl and promise me, Ella.”

His deep-voiced commands caught her by surprise, and she found herself agreeing to his wishes. There was something about the way he’d said it that she just couldn’t ignore. “Very well, Max. I promise.”

“Good.” He stood and began walking to the door. “I’ll get Becky to run you home.”

“No.”

“You will do as I say, Ella. I’ll have a member of my staff drop your car off at your house. You’re not in a fit state to drive. I want to know you arrive home safely. You’ve been through a hard time. I need to think. What you’ve just told me is hard to accept. But I’ve seen the bruising with my own eyes. Kirk was my best friend. I guess I didn’t know him that well. I just have to come to terms with everything in my own time.”

Chapter Three

Three months later

The heady beat of music drifted pleasantly across the air-conditioned room. “Another shot of whiskey, Sam.” Max handed his empty glass to the bartender of the Orange Grove Fetish Club.

The subdued lighting and half-dressed guests all added to the ambience. Without a sub for the last few months, he’d come along this evening to check out the scene. When the contract with his last slave had finished, they’d both gone their separate ways. He’d found enjoyment, but there was still something lacking. His girlfriend, Jessica, hadn’t opened up to him the way he’d hoped. Their relationship had not been serious. Max absently tossed some nuts into his mouth as Sam poured a large measure of Jack Daniel’s into a shot glass.

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