Page 29 of BillionHeir
“You better come back,” Jenna says, playfully threatening me. “If you don’t, I am going to come over there and drag youback. Kicking and screaming if I have to. Don’t forget, I know a guy with a private jet.”
“He is probably the last person who would want to come and get me. By the time he is well again, I am sure he will be so sick of me that he will be glad I am gone.”
“Are you kidding? You are the coolest person I know, not to mention a total bombshell. He is going to love having you around so much he will be begging you to stay.”
I laugh at the idea, especially after our encounter after his shower. “You are just saying that because I am your best friend.”
“It is a funny thought, though. You have to admit.”
“It is rather funny, isn’t it?”
We laugh as we continue to catch up, her telling me about life on the ranch, and me telling her about how ridiculously ornate Seabanks is. I don’t know how I am going to go back to my apartment after living here.
Maybe it is time for an upgrade?
Chapter 11
_______________________
Maxwell
It has been four weeks since that shower with Chloe.
Despite my intense attraction to her, I have managed to keep the past month strictly professional between us. I thought I would eventually lose interest like I usually do with women, but if anything, my desire for her has only grown. It is starting to become a problem.
With the passage of time, I have also started to heal. I no longer need help in the bathroom, thankfully. I am able to get in and out of bed on my own and have even startedto do a little bit of work. Nothing too strenuous of course, just answering a few emails and signing contracts, that sort of thing.
It has been nice to feel like I am starting to get back into the swing of things, but the truth is, Ethan is still doing the majority of the work. Before my accident, I used to work from the moment my eyes opened in the morning until the late hours of the night. My days were filled with emails, phone calls, and meetings, while my evenings were often busy with different events and functions where I networked and schmoozed my business partners. My work was never really done.
But the helicopter accident, and the injuries I sustained, have forced me to slow down. Such a thought would have once been abhorrent to me. Now that I can’t work as much, I am finding I enjoy the slower pace. All the calls and messages that I used to receive have been forwarded to Ethan, and he needs me less and less as he takes on the role that I used to fill. A role I once foolishly thought could only be done by me, as arrogant as that sounds.
There was a time in my life when I would have balked at the thought of someone else trying to fill my shoes. I wanted everyone to know that I could step into my father’s role seamlessly. For many years, I have done just that. I kept my head down and my nose to the grindstone, determined to honor the Banks family name by leading the company my father built to international success.
I succeeded beyond my own expectations, using my inheritance to become one of the wealthiest men in the world. But in the process, I also became a lonely man. I barely have time to spend with friends. A serious, committed relationship is completely out of the question. Numerous women have tried to tame me, to make me want them more than I wanted my career, but none of them have had what it took to really turn my head.
So imagine my surprise when I finally find a woman who I can’t get off my mind, and it turns out that she wants nothing to do with me. Instead, she seems to be actively avoiding me, and I am paying her to be here.
Don’t get me wrong, when it comes to nursing, Chloe has been a consummate professional. She has made sure that my every need is taken care of, even going so far as to prepare my meals for me, which is definitely not in her job description. She has taken better care of me in the little time she has been here than my own nanny did when I was a child.
But as soon as her job is done, as soon as she is not needed, she is gone—to work out in the gym, to swim laps in the pool, to read a book in her room, or even more torturous to my imagination, to soak in the huge guest room bathtub. She can’t get far enough away from me, or so it seems. Even now, while I lie in bed after lunch so that I can ‘get some rest’, I can see her reclining by the pool outside my bedroom window.
She looks too damn good, sitting beside the water in a pair of shorts and an oversized hoodie. The sun reflects off of the shapely, tan legs she has stretched out in front of her, daintily crossed at the ankle. I have seen women in all manner of dress, from high fashion and ball gowns to skimpy bikinis and lingerie. But none of them have turned me on the way Chloe does just by existing. She could be wearing a damn paper bag and I think I would probably still have a raging hard-on. That is just what she does to me.
It is not because she is attractive, even though she is absolutely gorgeous. But her personality and the way she cares about the people in her life, which now includes me, makes her better than pretty much everyone else I have ever met. The more I find out about her, the more I appreciate her, even when I think I couldn’t like her more. It is not often that I find someone who I admire as much as I have grown to admire Chloe.
Since we have been here, the house seems brighter and more full of life. It is like her presence has somehow dusted the layers of grief and sorrow off every surface, cleansing the residence of the pain of the past. I have spent quite some time here since my parents passed away, but she is suddenly making me see this place in a whole new light.
Rather than sitting here on my bed and watching her through the window like some kind of voyeur, I grab the book I have been reading and slowly make my way downstairs to join her. Ihear her subtle gasp of surprise when I ease down onto the chaise next to her.
I give her a friendly smile before explaining. “It is too nice to stay inside today.”
“I thought so, too. How are you feeling?” It seems like the only thing she ever wants to talk to me about is my health. I shouldn’t complain since I am paying her to be my nurse, but it is getting a little old.
“I am fine,” I snap like a petulant child before opening my book, effectively ending the conversation.
From the corner of my eye, I see her startle at the venom in my tone. Instead of commenting on it like I expect, she just goes back to reading her own book. I have never had someone’s silence upset me so much. It gets under my skin, causing my normal don’t-give-a-fuck-about-anyone-else attitude to completely evaporate. I have no clue how she does it.
I sigh loudly as I try to get into my book, a historical non-fiction about Douglas MacArthur’s military leadership during World War II. It isn’t exactly light reading, but I always enjoyed learning about this time period. There is something engaging about the power struggles across the globe and the many lasting consequences that we still see in the world today.
