At No Man's Command - Page 41

‘So...’ Aiesha sent him a little smile. ‘What will we do in the meantime?’

His mouth was pinched tight, although she could see the way his gaze slipped to the swell of her breasts and back again. ‘Do you ever think of anything else but sex?’

She gave him an arch look. ‘That’s what you’re paying me for, isn’t it?’

He snatched her wrist as the lift doors pinged open, marching her out like a captor with a prisoner. ‘I’m a little tired of you making those cheap little digs. We wouldn’t be in this situation if you hadn’t sent that first tweet, remember?’ He jerked his head to indicate for her to enter the penthouse.

‘Aren’t you going to carry me over the threshold?’

‘Get inside.’

She raised her chin. ‘I want my own room.’

‘I want you with me.’

‘What if I don’t want to be with you?’

A nerve twitched in his jaw, his eyes blue-black. ‘This is your room. In here. With me. End of discussion.’

Aiesha fought her agitation by redirecting it into anger. She stabbed a finger at his chest, leaning her whole weight into it, but even so he didn’t move a millimetre. She felt like a wispy blade of grass trying to push over a tree trunk. ‘You do not tell me where I will sleep. Get it?’

He plucked her hand off his chest, holding it so firmly her fingers overlapped each other. He tugged her against him, his eyes holding hers in a tense little lock. ‘I know what you’re up to, Aiesha. You want me to lose my head. To lose my temper and act like a moron, like you believe all men to be. But it won’t work. Push and defy me all you want. I’m not going to let you win. You will stay with me all night, no matter what.’

He stepped back from her, his expression enviably cool and controlled. ‘I’m going to meet with my client. By the time I get back, the jeweller and the clothes will be here. Don’t leave the hotel until I get back. The press are still out there.’

Aiesha threw him a mutinous glare. ‘You can’t tell me what to do.’

He opened the door, pausing to look back at her before he left. ‘I just did.’

* * *

Aiesha waited until she saw James leave the front of the hotel in a cab before she picked up her coat and purse. She was not having him tell her what she could or couldn’t do. She needed fresh air and she was going to go out and get some. He had no right to order her about as if she had no will of her own.

No man had that right.

She slipped out of a side door and managed to escape the attention of the press because a minor member of European royalty arrived and the cameras switched their focus on them instead.

The streets were slippery and icy from melting snow and a breeze that felt as if it had icicles attached sharpened the air. She put her head down against the cold and walked at a brisk pace to get warm. Paris was beautiful, no matter what the season, but with the Eiffel Tower and every building and bridge and cathedral spire painted white with snow it was particularly picturesque, giving it an old-world, timeless feel.

Aiesha walked along the banks of the Seine, where conical pines stood like powdered sentries along the whitened pathway. The park benches lined along the walk were encrusted with virgin snow, for no one had sat down and lingered there to take in the view due to the bitter cold.

She walked for over an hour and then began to retrace her steps and was only a few blocks from the hotel when she saw it happen. A man wearing a thick dark coat was dragging a small dog behind him on a lead. The little mutt didn’t seem too happy on being pulled along and was wriggling and shaking its head from side to side to try and escape. The man said something foul in French and dragged the dog into a nearby alley.

Aiesha’s blood ran as cold as the ice beneath her feet. Her heart started to thump so loudly she could hear it in her ears. Her stomach churned and, in spite of the freezing conditions, sweat broke out on her brow. Her legs felt as if they were stuck in the pavement, her ankles held there by steel vices.

But then she heard the little dog yelp and she was galvanised like a sprinter leaping off the block when the starter gun was fired. ‘No!’ She ran screaming into the alley, slipping and sliding all over the place like a newborn foal on ice skates. She fell painfully to her knees and scrambled back up, her heart beating so frantically she could barely speak. ‘No, please don’t hurt him. Please don’t hurt him.’

The man looked at her as if she were a crazed idiot. Even the little dog took one look at her and cowered behind its owner’s legs. ‘You are crazy, oui?’ the man said.

Tags: Melanie Milburne Billionaire Romance
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