Page 17 of The Tycoon's Pet

“You’re absolutely perfect, Butterfly.”

Chapter Eight

Kayla

I open my eyes slowly, a deep sense of contentment immediately settling in my chest. Paul isn’t in the bed with me, but his side is still warm which means he must have just gotten up. I roll over to his side of the bed, burying my head in his pillow, inhaling his strong, masculine scent. It grounds me, reminding me that this is real, that he is real. I let out a dreamy sigh, turning to lie on my back.

I close my eyes as the memories of the previous night invade my mind, a silly grin playing on my lips. Last night was unarguably the best night of my life. Paul had made my first time special; more beautiful than anything I ever wished for or imagined. I trace my fingers over the sheets, remembering the way they tangled around us as we moved together. The way his breath hitched, the way he whispered my name like a prayer, the way his hands held me as if I were the most precious thing in the world—it was all perfect. It was more than just the physical act; it was a merging of our souls, a completion of everything we've shared over the years.

I open my eyes to look around his room. I've been in here a countless time over the years but this time it feels different. Everything looks the same—the familiar dark wood furniture, the large windows, the soft lighting filtering in from the slightly parted curtains—but now there's a new layer of intimacy, a sense of belonging that I didn’t feel before.

Every corner of this room now holds a memory of the night before, from the way he looked at me with such intensity to the electrifying tenderness of his touch, the combined sound of our moans, and how he clung to me at the height of ecstasy. I've never felt so wanted, so desired. And oh, how considerate he was, so worried that he'd hurt me. I could see the pain in his eyes when he broke my sheath, and that made me feel instantly better despite the pain that shot through my body. The pain disappeared quickly and the pleasure that followed was incredible. The feeling of having him inside of me, filling me up, moving inside of... I never knew such depth of pleasure was possible. I want to feel it again. And again. Forever, if possible.

Reluctantly, I get out of bed, pulling on one of Paul's shirts. The soft fabric feels snug against my skin and hug myself for a moment, reveling in the warmth. I look up to catch the reflection of myself in the mirror, surprised at the silly grin on my face. Ignoring my sleep-mated hair, I hurry out of the room.

I need to find Paul, to see him, to feel his mouth in mine and his big strong hands on my body, teasing me…

As I pad barefoot through the hallway, I catch the faint sound of papers rustling in his office and I head in that direction.

When I reach the door, I gently push it open, then peek inside. “Hey, I…”

I stop dead in my tracks at the sight that greets me. Paul is sitting at his desk, my binder—the one containing my business plans—open in front of him. The contents are spread out around his desk as he broods over them with a furrowed brow.

A surge of emotions wells up inside me, shock, embarrassment, defensiveness, anger in rapid succession. I choose to dwell on anger.

How dare he invade my privacy like this? What the hell is he doing?

I storm into the room, my body shaking with fury. "What do you think you're doing, Paul? How dare you go through my things!"

He looks up, his clear green eyes flashing with surprise before they harden. He closes the binder and stands up, facing me. "Kayla, I—"

"You had no right to go through my binder!" I cut him off, my voice rising. "That's private! How did it even get here in the first place?" Paul's jaw tightens, but he doesn't say a word to defend himself and that angers me even more. "You think I can't do everything in there on my own, right? You think my dreams are silly, don't you? I know that look!"

“Kayla, calm down,” Paul says, his voice steady but firm. “I'm not judging you. In fact, this is one of the most well-thought-out business plans I've ever seen. It's better than the vast majority of the proposals I get for new properties almost every day.”

I stop, blinking at him in shock. “What?”

Paul nods. “I mean it. Your plan is impressive. One of your prospective locations is actually one that my firm is involved with. I think it's great and I can help you secure the property.”

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. I close it again, feeling a mix of shock and confusion. I expected him to be mad at me for making plans without his input, so I lashed out, but instead he's complimenting me and even offering to help.

“You really think it's good?” I finally manage to ask.

“Emphatically,” he replies. And I believe him. If there's one thing I know, it's the fact that Paul isn't one to sugarcoat things, especially when it comes to business. So if he says my business plan is impressive, then it is and that makes me feel good.

“But I have to ask, why didn't you tell me about your plans?” Paul asks quietly.

"I… I'm sorry," I stammer with a guilty shrug. "I guess with my plans and all, I really didn't see myself coming through. What if the plan flops? W-what if I fail?"

Paul's expression softens. He walks around his desk and comes to stand in front of me, taking my hands in his to give me a reassuring squeeze. “It's a very feasible plan, Kayla and I assure you it'll be a success. Look at me, baby.” I lift my head, looking into the smoldering depths of his eyes. “Let me help you.”

For a moment, I find myself melting in the heat of his gaze, drowning in the reassuring promises lurking in their dreamy green depths but I quickly drop my gaze, stepping away from him. “It means a lot that I do this for myself, Paul. I can't rely on you to help me out every damn time. This is my dream; I should achieve it on my own.”

He remains silent, waiting patiently until I meet his gaze again. “What would Grams want you to do, Kayla?”

I frown, shaking my head at him. “Why is that relevant?”

He points to the business name listed on the binder—Rosemary’s Place. “I know a part of the reason you're doing this is to feel closer to Grams. Would she have wanted you to use all the tools you have at your disposal? Or would she have wanted you to do it alone?"

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