I nodded faint agreement.
He eased us apart then groaned. “Your tits are going to be the death of me. But also of Bob from Accounts across the way.”
I followed his head tilt to the nearest office block where a grey-suited man stared at us from the all-glass block, his mouth open. A laugh flew from my lips, and I zipped up my top. The man hurried away, his folder of paperwork held in front of his crotch, the dirty bastard.
Inside the apartment, Elijah shrugged his shirt back on and led me to the living room, my hand in his. At the breakfast bar, a French press waited, and he poured me a cup.
I accepted it, refusing milk or sugar. “I didn’t know billionaires could make their own coffee.”
His lips twitched. Lips that had so sweetly devoured mine. “Is there no start to my talents?”
I couldn’t stop a laugh. He was funny. A dangerous combination with the raw sex appeal. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask about his work, but I remembered the deal we’d made last night. For the first week, we weren’t delving too deep.
“What do you do on a day off?” I asked instead.
He sipped from his mug, keeping to his position on the other side of the kitchen counter, barista-style. “I can’t remember thelast time I took any number of days off in a row. If I was at home, I’d go for a run, make plans with family, then probably end up getting pulled into some work crisis.”
“Where’s home?”
“Mostly Boston, but I have a place in London, too. My mom and brother are in the States.”
I wasn’t touching the fact he had more than one house with a barge pole. “Your brother is Ethan, right?”
His smile flickered wider in what seemed like genuine happiness. “Well remembered. He’s a lot younger than me, but we’re close. He worked for me for a while, but now he runs his own company. Starting small. I’m proud of him.”
His phone buzzed on the counter between us, the name ‘Mitch’ on the screen. The same person who’d left a note last night. Elijah scowled at it.
“You can answer it.”
He sighed and stabbed the screen to kill the call. “Mitch is my right-hand man. He knows how important this time is, and how I mean to dedicate it all to you. And yet he won’t leave me alone. We already spoke once this morning.”
I took another drink of my hot and delicious coffee. Rich, like its maker. The man who wanted to spend his time with me. “Maybe it’s important?”
The phone started buzzing again.
Elijah palmed his face then gave me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ll get rid of him.” He swiped to answer the call, listening for a moment.
The door chimed, and Elijah covered the receiver to speak to me. “I ordered breakfast. Can you let them in?”
I hopped up and crossed to the door. The kiss and the short chat on his life had given me warm and fuzzy vibes I didn’t know how to handle. It was easier to think of him as being just another rich man I wanted to fight with. That was a safe space where thebattles could become sex and I would afterwards return to my corner. Thinking about him helping his brother and spending time with his mum crossed a line into normal-land.
A button next to the lift was lit orange, and I pressed it. The door slid open, and the butler plus another uniformed staff member smiled.
“Hey, Alton.”
“Good morning, Miss Braveheart. May we enter?”
I stepped aside, and they wheeled two silver trolleys over to the dining table, vanished the empties from last night, then offloaded plate after plate, uncovering each with a flourish. Racks of toast, cereals, three types of granola, multiple carafes of different kinds of milk, eggs cooked four ways, something fancy with salmon and avocado, a posh version of a fry-up. Juices, sliced meats, yoghurts, fruit.
I stared at the sheer amount of food. “Did Elijah say we were expecting company?”
“No, miss.”
“Then are you joining us?”
Alton laughed politely. “If there’s anything else, miss?”
I shook my head, and they retreated. Across the room, Elijah paced beside the glass wall, a hand to the back of his neck. I caught his eye and tipped my head at the table.
