Page 83 of Owned By a Billionaire

“I can’t think about that now, Carol.” I gave her an apologetic smile.

She shrugged. “Call me what you like.” She leaned in and kissed me.

I descended the stairs and stepped onto the path of that leafy street. Curvacious white Edwardian homes sat proudly across from a bright green park where everything and everyone was in their rightful place.

As I made my way back to the rough side of town, I knew what I had to do. I had to reclaim my freedom so I could marry Caroline, because I’d never wanted anything more in my life.

Chapter 28

Caroline

Aftersharingthosedarksecrets with Mark, I felt lighter, despite the many challenges that lay ahead. I’d even been sleeping better than usual.

Much to my chagrin, however, Mark insisted on staying at Audrey’s bedsit. I couldn’t understand, but I took him any way I could. As desperate as that seemed, it was either that or not see him.

And so, there we were together in that rundown room with the sickly faded floral wallpaper.

He took my hand. “Once I’ve sorted everything out, I’ll reclaim the man-of-leisure role you so want me to embrace.”

I frowned. “Is that a hint of sarcasm I’m detecting?”

He shook his handsome head and gave me one of his irresistible smiles. I fell into his arms and onto his unmade bed.

This obstinate need of Mark’s for us to split our time between my opulent surroundings and his dingy ones jarred my senses. The contrast in settings was so intense that it always took some adjusting. Especially with Audrey curtsying while receiving me in her sweet but fawning manner.

“As long as you ravish me, I don’t really care, I suppose,” I said with the resigned sigh of a smitten woman. But as we lay on his uncomfortable bed, I couldn’t help but complain. “How can you sleep like this?”

He laughed. “I know. It’s pretty bad. My back’s complaining. But I needed some space to think. To plan.”

“So, your plan?”

“I plan to become free. And for you to become the next Mrs. Reiner.”

At the reminder of his desire to marry me, my heart warmed. “Well, it might have to be Lovechilde-Reiner.”

“Whatever.” He took me into his arms.

I pressed my face against his neck and breathed in his intoxicating masculinity, which sent my hormones into overdrive as always. “I just wish you weren’t about to leave.”

A dark cloud drifted over me again, and I unraveled myself from his arms. “Why don’t you let me come with you to Australia?”

“You wouldn’t like it, trust me. Sydney is humid, and their idea of high tea involves a tea bag and a joint.”

His drollery made me chuckle. “I’m very adaptable. If I’m with you, I don’t mind where I am. Look at me here in this…” I paused, not wanting to use the word ‘squalor.’

“I’ll stay at Mayfair, then,” he said with resignation, as though I was trying to deprive him of pleasure.

“Look, Mark, I’m not trying to force you to do anything. It’s just a little uncomfortable here.”

He stroked my cheek lovingly, and I instantly relaxed. This man could make me do anything when his eyes radiated such warmth and love.

Or was he just a good actor?

No, not when we fucked or made love. One couldn’t fake those cataclysmic climaxes. And two years into our relationship, our lust should have become diluted, but Mark’s appetite proved just as robust as always.

“With so many choice adornments competing for my attention, I couldn’t think straight. Even now, when I’m at Mayfair, I keep wandering between your pretty eyes to that glorious Monet on your bedroom wall.”

I laughed. “Then I’ll have to have it removed so you can admire me instead.”

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