Page 52 of Mr. Devereaux

Why does she sit there and put up with this shit? I want Charlize to have some backbone. I always thought she had some, but now I’m realising a lot of what she says and does is bravado.

“Can I finish my dinner before we go?” Her words pain me, hitting me in the chest until I can barely breathe. Can she finish her meal? What in the ever-living fuck?

My eyebrows knit together. “Of course. Charlize, I never meant to…”

She takes an audible inhale of breath, halting my next words. “I’m fine. Really. You don’t have to keep explaining like a broken record. I’ve got it.”

And just like that, my ray of sunshine. My Princess. She’s gone.

I extinguished her, just like I extinguish anything good in my life. I have a real knack for it.

I squeeze the bridge of my nose with my forefinger and thumb, willing the thump in my head to dissipate. But it won’t.

We both know we have a connection. And we both know this shouldn’t go anywhere.

Shouldn’t.

It fucking shouldn’t.

I let her eat the rest of her food in silence, willing the ground to swallow me whole because she’s right; I am an arsehole. And I didn’t need tonight to prove it.

Chapter Fifteen

Charlize

Alistair is quiet on the drive back to Blakefield. I don’t know where his driver went, but it seems that he wants me all to himself. Things didn’t go as planned and I don’t know why I feel this heaviness in my chest. Like I don’t want him to go. I don’t like the idea of him being mad at me, as ridiculous as that sounds.

He’s really the only thing resembling family that I have left. And I just ruined everything.

My grandmother always said my mouth would get me into trouble one day, and I guess she wasn’t kidding. I’m a walking disaster area, always have been.

As I stare out of the window, I wonder what it would be like to be a billionaire. Alistair must’ve worked his can off to acquire such wealth in as little as seventeen years. I had no idea his business was so ridiculously lucrative.

I hold onto my dessert to go; yes, I did take two of the crème brûlée to enjoy later when I sulk in my room over how disastrous tonight went. I mean, it could’ve been worse, I suppose.

Now he just feels sorry for me, and that feels kinda weird. It makes me nervous to think that if it weren’t for who we are, we’d no doubt be in bed together without a care in the world.

Out of nowhere, he speaks. “You asked me how long it had been since I used Élégance.” His voice is quiet, almost broody. Like he’s been carefully planning what he’s about to say. Yes, I remember. And he gave me some cock and bull story. “Well, it’s been a long time. I only used them in the first place when I had something to attend. It was easier to take a professional than a woman who’s going to latch onto me and make more out of our date than I wanted. And sex? It’s been a while. I’ve been busy at work and that’s why my friends bought me… well, you.”

I appreciate the honesty, still, I don’t turn my head toward him. “You don’t have to explain to me,” I say, my tone neutral. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Perhaps not, but I still wanted you to know.”

“So I don’t think badly of you?”

“You think that concerns me?”

“Yes. Or you wouldn't be explaining why it’s been so long for you.”

He clears his throat. “Do you want to come work for me?”

I turn to look at him. “Yes. But I don’t want to work in your office, Alistair. I want more.” I notice his grip on the steering wheel tighten, his knuckles turning white. “Just hear me out. This could be good for the both of us. I could be… yours. Your Princess, Alistair. To do with what you please. You obviously like kinky shit or you wouldn’t be hiring escorts at Élégance. And I’m into that. I wouldn't have to work there anymore. I’d be… exclusive.”

His jaw ticks. “You really can get over the fact that we’re…”

“Stop saying it. We’re not related. You need a professional, and I can be that for you. I can give you what you need, like a sugar baby.” I know I’m pushing it, but I don’t care. It’s now or never. “This way you get to stop feeling guilty because I’ll spend your money, Daddy. I’ll spend it and you’ll love every second of it.”

He swallows hard and my eyes glance down. I’m betting he’s hard in his pants. I know what I do to him. I know that he thinks he has all the control, but that’s where he’s wrong.

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