Obsessed (BBW Billionaire Light Romance) (11 page)

From time to time Leah experienced butterflies in her stomach, which increased as the weekend approached. She’d received no answer to her answerphone
or
text message to James. Perhaps he considered that everything was fixed? Or perhaps he wouldn't come. It was so frustrating.  She rushed home from the shop on Saturday, had a quick shower, dressed in casual clothes and packed a small rucksack with a change for Sunday. It sounded as though the house stood in extensive grounds, deep in the Norfolk countryside so there would be plenty of exploring to do, country walks maybe. She really had no idea what James had planned, other than sex.

He arrived on time, in a sort of up-market Land Rover which she saw was called a Defender. It was very high off the ground, probably for seeing over hedges, and in a deep green colour.

Leah felt a great surge of excitement. After all, he was here; this fantastic man would be with her for the
rest of the weekend
. It was almost too much.

He took her small rucksack and put it in the boot. She thought she saw something cross his face as he looked at her, but she was never sure what he was thinking.

They were spending the weekend in the country. Surely he didn't expect high heels and a skirt? Had she got it so wrong? Until a moment ago, she’d thought that her casual clothes were just right.

They drove for a few miles, then James said he would have to pull in at a garage and fill up with petrol. Leah waited happily, luxuriating in the huge four-by-four, which was another new experience for her.

When he came out of the garage, he jumped in quickly and slammed the door, looking slightly annoyed.

"Is everything ok?" Leah asked.

"Yes," he replied brusquely. "Had to make a phone call, just a bit of a mix up."

He leaned down and turned on some background music, something classical.

"Do you mind if I don't talk much? Saturday night traffic, and I need to concentrate."

"Fine," Leah answered, settling back into the plush leather seat.

They drove out of London, and James seemed to be accelerating, taking risks, cornering quickly, skimming around the roundabouts, changing lanes.

Leah began to wonder what had upset him, but she kept quiet.

As they left London behind and got into the countryside, he seemed to relax.

"Sorry about the scary drive," he said. "Just had a bit of a busy day, and I guess I’m still rushing. I'll try and switch off."

"How long will it take to get there?" Leah asked.

"Depends on the traffic, but I’m guessing we'll be there around eight. I want you to see the house in the light. We're just having a simple meal when we get there. Is that okay with you, or are you hungry now?" he asked.

James was suddenly being considerate! He was the perfect host; Leah just hoped it would last.

"Do you have servants to prepare the meal or do we microwave it when we arrive?" she joked.

"Mrs Forbes, the housekeeper will have it ready in the Aga. She lives in with her husband who looks after the grounds. There are some part-time staff when the house is occupied," James answered, taking her question totally seriously.

"Does your mother usually live there?"

"Most of the year, yes, but at the moment she's in Italy. She goes every summer on a painting course and stays at the farmhouse in Umbria," he replied.

Another
property, this time in Italy, but Leah was relieved that they would have the Manor to themselves. She didn't want to meet any of James's family. It was enough to cope with visiting the country estate.

"Mrs Forbes has been with the family for years," James continued, "but she prefers it when my mother's there. She has difficulties coming to terms with the fact that I inherited everything, and now
I'm
the one in charge."

"I shouldn't think anyone would have difficulty in recognising that!" Leah laughed.

There was a frosty silence, which grew, and Leah wished that she could learn to think before she spoke. James seemed so
edgy
. She knew very little about his background or family and she just wanted to enjoy the weekend with him, although she began to wonder if he was having second thoughts. She felt that, once again, she was out of her depth.

The reality of the situation suddenly hit her. She was going away, goodness knows where, with a man who she didn't even know very well, and mostly seemed to want her just for her body. He was sexy, generous with money, but so unpredictable, too, and she began to wish that she'd been able to resist him, to turn down this invitation.

"We're supposed to be getting to know each other," James eventually said, shattering the silence, "so tell me something. How about your family? Where did you grow up, Leah?"

Leah looked out of the car window at the passing countryside and wondered where to start.

"I come from Bradford. My father was made redundant a while ago, so he works part-time at the  supermarket and potters on his allotment. My mother’s a dinner lady at the local school.

“I have two sisters – Carol who's married to a plumber and lives nearby, they have one boy. Then there's my younger sister, Fran. She's a single mum, and she had a daughter, Zoe, when she was only seventeen. She tried living in a council flat on benefits, but it didn't work out, she just couldn't manage on her own, so she moved back to live with our parents. There's also my Grandpa, just turned eighty, and with the start of Alzheimers. He lives in the front room."

There was a pause, while she was sure that James was realising how different her world was from his own.

"Wow. Quite a lot of generations all together," he said. "How many rooms do they have?"

"Typical, small three bedroomed semi," she answered.

Leah thought about that crowded house, how there was always a shortage of space and money, how it was always a bit disorganised, but even so, they were all happy there.

"My parents had one bedroom, my sister had the other and Zoe slept in the box room, then as I said the front room downstairs is for Grandpa."

"Where do you sleep when you go to visit now?" James asked.

"On an inflatable bed in my sister's room," Leah answered.

"I sleep in the store cupboard when I visit Jake in Crete," James stated.

They drove in silence for a while, and James seemed to be considering her story.

"And yet they managed to send you to uni? It must’ve been a struggle," he commented.

"Oh yes, but I had a student loan, which I'm still paying off," Leah explained.

"
Still
?" James sounded incredulous. "I can pay that ..."

"No!" Leah interrupted him. "Please, don't offer me any more loans. I'm still trying to sort my finances."

"I said
pay
it off, not a loan," James stated.

"I couldn't let you do that." Leah was very definite, and so James dropped the subject. 

"Enough about me, what about you?" Leah asked.

But just then car slowed down, and Leah saw that they were approaching a large gateway with two stone columns and wrought iron gates which stood open. There was a gravelled drive lined by tall trees. James drove slowly along until the drive swept in an arc and opened out, finishing before a huge house, bathed in the red glow of the evening sun.

"
This
is my background," he said.

Leah looked at the house in wonder. Rising up over three floors, from the stately rooms on the ground floor, to the upper level and the pointed roof of the attic bedrooms. It had large mullioned windows, twisted intricate brick chimneys and three stone steps leading to the ancient, heavy  wooden door. James got out of the car and opened the boot.

"Do you
really
live here?" Leah asked, "or is it a hotel or something?"

She turned around and looked at the grounds, sweeping lawns surrounded the house and she could see the glinting shape of water. Beyond it were woods, and the sky was just beginning to edge towards a dusky evening light.

"It's been in the family for several generations," James said, holding an overnight bag.

"You're not titled or anything?" Leah asked. She was feeling uncertain; the house and its setting were much more imposing than anything she’d been able to imagine.

"No, the family were just wealthy landowners," he said. "Follow me."

He led the way up the steps and pushed open the heavy door. Leah followed, clutching her small rucksack, and as she walked she became aware of a female figure moving towards them, from across the expanse of the hall.

"Good evening, Mr Willoughby. I hope you had a good journey, and Miss ... ?" At this, the woman paused.

"Grainger," James supplied.

He turned back to Leah. "Mrs Forbes," he introduced briefly.

Leah smiled and wondered whether she was supposed to shake hands. The housekeeper nodded and glanced back at James.

She was a slight, middle-aged woman, with grey hair and rimless glasses, very still and composed, dressed neatly in a navy shirt-waister dress.

"I've laid the table in the kitchen, as you requested, and there's a lamb hotpot in the Aga."

"That will be fine, and is my room ready?" James sounded quite sharp as he spoke.

"Of course," Mrs Forbes answered, her voice cool.

Leah was aware of a frosty atmosphere between the two of them, but couldn't work out why.

"Would you like me to take your things up?" Mrs Forbes turned towards the bags that were on the tiled floor and Leah was struck by the sight of her small, scruffy canvas rucksack next to James's polished, soft leather holdall.

"No, I'll do that later,” he said gruffly. “We'll be looking after ourselves tomorrow, and leaving in the evening."

"Goodnight then, Mr Willoughby, Miss Grainger."

And with that, Mrs Forbes turned and glided towards the back of the house.

James led Leah towards a large, warm kitchen. It had obviously been newly decorated and restored with modern appliances whilst still keeping to the style and age of the house.

"Do you know anything about Agas?" he asked.

Leah shook her head. She was completely overwhelmed. The kitchen alone could have easily contained the whole floor of the little house in Clapham. There were shelves of china, glassware, copper pans and jelly moulds. Ropes of hops and lavender hung from the oak beams.

"I visited a house like this once on holiday," she said, "but it belonged to the National Trust."

"Well, just sit down at the table and I’ll pour us both a glass of wine. I'm hungry and I'm going to get the food out of this wretched monster," James picked up a cloth.

"Why didn't you let Mrs Forbes do it?" she asked.

"Because she makes me feel uncomfortable," he replied.

James set a glass of wine before Leah, then began ladling the fantastic smelling hotpot onto two plates.

"You! Uncomfortable!" Leah was surprised.

"She makes a point of calling me
Mr Willoughby.
I've known her since I was little. I mean, she's
always
been around, and she used to call me James."

"Well? Ask her to change back," Leah suggested.

"She wouldn't, and it would only make things worse. She obviously felt that once my father died and I inherited everything, it was the correct way to address me. She doesn't really want me coming here, anyway. I think she resents it.  She prefers it when it's just my mother here."

Leah wondered if he brought Elizabeth to the house and how Mrs Forbes had reacted to her. She had a feeling that Elizabeth would be accepted.

The food was delicious, the hotpot and homemade crusty bread, plus an apple pie with cream in a little pottery jug, and the expensive red wine which had been opened and was at room temperature. Leah was totally full and almost relaxed. James was watching her.

"What?" she asked.

"I like to see you eat,” he smiled. “You seem to enjoy food so much."

"Too much, maybe,” Leah blushed. “I really should go on a diet."

"No. I like you as you are. Don't change."

"So? What have you got planned for the weekend?" Leah asked, stretching happily.

"Apart from the obvious, tomorrow I'll show you the house and the grounds. We could go for a walk to the village later and then eat at the pub."

"And what's
the obvious
?" Leah asked.

James leaned towards her and enclosed her hand in his.

"A whole night of having you here. Waking up together tomorrow. I want to take my time, Leah. I want to make you lose all your inhibitions. I want all of you, I just can't stop myself."

Leah swallowed, it was almost too much.

§

It was much later when James led her up the wide wooden staircase to his room. A corridor stretched to the left and right, into pools of darkness.

"How many bedrooms are there?" Leah asked quietly.

"On this floor there are eight rooms, and on the upper floor another six," James answered. "The whole was rather faded, my father didn't like change, so I've had all the main rooms restored. There are just four guest rooms left to do now."

He opened a door on his right, into a large room, and switched on the soft lights.

The floorboards were dark, the room furnished with heavy antique furniture, but the walls were decorated in a light green silk paper, the curtains were creamy, and there were soft rugs on the floor. In the centre stood a massive bed, high off the floor, all the linen in pure, plain white. It reminded Leah of an altar in a temple.

Was she going to be sacrificed?

"Is this king-sized?" she asked, the nerves jangling in her voice as she waved a hand towards the bed.

James shrugged. "Larger than that, a special commission," he said.

Leah wondered how many women he’d brought up to this room and slept with on this huge bed.

She wandered across and sat down on the edge.

"Wow, it's so bouncy!" she grinned, despite herself. She looked at James as she bounced again, her eyes shining.

"Oh, it can get better than
that
," he replied, walking towards her, slowly unbuttoning his expensive looking shirt. "Here, let me show you ..."