Page 46 of Owned By a Billionaire

“The long answer is that the site needed to come down,” he said after a moment. “There’s a need for apartments, and I took advantage of an opportunity. That’s what we do. We expand our empires. You, of all people, should know that.” He cocked his head. “However, I’m not quite sure how you’re expanding yours, since you’ve become somewhat distracted.”

“Don’t patronize me.” My anger had made it to my vocal cords, and I rubbed my nails vigorously. I needed to vent soon, or I would scream in his face.

“But a penniless author who hasn’t even been published? Carol, you could do better than that.”

“It’s none of your business. He’s not completely penniless. He owns a charming villa in Como, which has an idyllic view of the lake. The land is worth millions, should he sell. Although I hope he doesn’t.” I puffed. If only I was on that splendid lake, sipping on an apéritif, instead of staring down Satan himself.

“Hm…” He walked over to an Art Deco statuette of a dancer and stroked it as he might a living woman.

“And the short answer?” I asked, reverting back to the gut-wrenching subject of his building site being cleared.

Distracted, Reynard gave me a questioning frown before a crafty grin smoothed out his wrinkles. “Oh, there is none. It’s just unlucky that Alice’s bones were discovered.”

“But that detective Harding is determined. He’s never going to just let this slide, even if I were to agree to your terms.”

“Oh, but he will.” He looked pleased, as though he’d just checkmated me.

Of course. He knew someone higher up. How could he not? Reynard Crisp was a modern-day Machiavelli when he wasn’t playing Mephistopheles.

I sighed. “Let me sleep on it.”

“Not too long. You don’t want that detective poking around.”

“They already have. There’s a forensic report, I believe.”

“That can go away too.”

I shook my head. “When did you become God?”

“That happened while you were scrambling for crumbs, Carol.”

Tired of his pompous presence, I rose and said sharply, “I’ll see you out, then.”

“Oh, and Natalia wants a big wedding.”

“We’ll be there. My children, however, I doubt.”

As I opened the door to the salon, I saw Cary climbing the stairs, and despite my earlier petulance at his unwillingness to discuss marriage, I smiled. He was that beam of sunlight penetrating through dark clouds.

Reynard passed Cary by without so much as an acknowledgement.

Once we were alone, Cary turned to me. “You look a little rattled,” he said. “I mean, you seemed that way earlier, too.”

I took him by the hand, almost pulling him to me. “Let’s go upstairs.”

I called Vance and asked him not to disturb us, then followed Cary up to my bedroom. Once there, I turned on some music. This was hardly the time for tender sex.

Cary smiled. “That’s rather raucous.”

I pointed at his trousers. “Show me.”

The man was so endowed that I couldn’t get enough of his beautiful penis. He lowered his briefs, half erect already.

Just the mere hint of sex, and Cary fired up.

I removed my top and played with my breasts. I wanted to watch him go hard. Then I moved over to him, and donning my inexperienced-girl act, I purred, “What would you like, sir?”

“I want you to suck my dick.” His eyes had gone dark with lust, for although I sensed his hesitation, his dick seemed to love when I acted the innocent, clueless girl. It was a game I once played with Gregory.

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