Obsessed (BBW Billionaire Light Romance) (7 page)

Leah stood back and admired the changes in the shop. It was a few weeks since the loan had been approved and she was proud of the progress. The new window was wooden, with a slightly bowed effect, and gave the front some much-needed character. The inside had been painted in dazzling white for the ceilings and a delicate blue on the walls. She wanted a particular shade. She remembered, when she was small, finding half a robin's egg shell on the ground after the chick had hatched. It was a colour that had remained in her mind and she searched for colour charts to find it. In the end she’d had the paint specially mixed and it worked perfectly. She had arranged for a carpenter to come and fix wooden shelves for display - they were painted white and she would have old-fashioned, silver coloured metal buckets, each filled to bursting with one colour of flower. Roses in all shades, deep blue cornflowers, tulips, poppies, freesias, the list went on.

Charlie had been a little wary; most florists had loads of flowers on display on the floor, but Leah wanted to raise them up, to eye height. She planned another area where they would sell containers, beautiful cut glass vases, stone jugs, unusual pottery, so that customers would be tempted to buy a special, expensive item to display their flowers.

"It looks great," Charlie said as he stood back, admiring the changes. "When the shelves are dry, we'll fill them. You should go into interior design, you've got a real gift!"

Leah shook her head. "No more changes of career for me," she answered. "I have to make a success of
this
. I'm really going for the challenge."

Leah was indeed enjoying making the decisions, and seeing her plans carried out, and she felt that her confidence was steadily growing.

"When the decorating's finished,” she said, “we’ll have to think about a good advertising campaign. It's great to have the shop looking so good, but that just attracts more passing trade. We must get a better website, too."

They were both busy, still supplying all the outside orders, as well as trying to run the shop whilst the alterations took place.

"We'll go and look at vans next week," Charlie suggested. "We need something better, we can't afford to have that old banger break down again."

Leah was pleased that all was going so smoothly and Charlie had really thrown himself into it. They worked well as a team, and he also found time to train Maggie in the art of arrangement and decoration. She was attending college two days a week. They both hoped that she would soon be able to take over more of the simple flower arrangements, as the shop was starting to get busy.

They’d installed an old-fashioned, brass bell over the door, too. It was a different touch, and Leah turned round from admiring the new paintwork, ready to welcome a customer as she heard it jingle.

James!

He was dressed in a very formal-looking in a dark grey suit, with a  blue shirt and red tie. He looked bronzed, too, as though he’d recently been in the sun. His hair a shade lighter and slightly longer. He stopped and stood just inside the doorway, immaculate and impressive, amid the paint pots and buckets.

Leah tried to compose herself, deciding she wasn’t going to be anything other than
professional
. This was her territory, even though she remembered the thrill of his firm hand on her knee in the cafe a couple of weeks ago.

"Can I help you?" Charlie said, as he appeared from the back of the shop. He could smell money a mile off.

"Charlie, this is Mr Willoughby," Leah explained. "He made the loan."

Charlie held out his hand and James shook it.

"You seem to have made a good start," he said, looking around.

Leah held her breath. Why had he come? To check up on things, and make sure she was actually spending the money on improvements, and not designer handbags? Or had he come to give her another of his lectures, pointing out where she was going wrong, and making suggestions.

To her surprise, he walked around slowly, looking at the new counter, the shelving and half-painted walls. He was careful not to get near any paint that was still a bit wet and Leah could see that he was taking it all in with a very calculated manner. He asked whether they were going to replace the van outside, and suggested a dealer he knew in Finchley.

"I'll have a word, if you like?” he said. “Get you a good deal.”

Charlie agreed, and they started on the technical talk, about makes, engine size, petrol consumption. Leah waited, slowly feeling that once again she was being left out of the decision.

"I want the van to be customised," she announced, and they both looked round at her. "I have a very definite idea of how it should look."

"That could be arranged," James replied, a slight tense edge to his voice.

Charlie seemed to sense the change in atmosphere. "I'll go and load the van,” he said gently. “Leah, you need to be here for the decorators."

They were a few feet apart: James leaning casually on the counter and Leah backed up almost against the painted shelves.

"Why have you come?" she asked once Charlie had left.

"To check up on my investment."

"But why do you need to? The loan is mine. You approved it."

"With the proviso that the money is spent properly. Until you start paying back in two years, I can oversee it."

"I don't remember agreeing to that!" Leah was annoyed. Pompous – the word sprang to mind again, but this time she kept quiet.

"Did you read the contract carefully, before you signed it?" he asked.

"Well, the courier was waiting and I ..."

"First rule of business, Leah. Read everything through closely before you sign, even the small print."

"So, it had some strings attached?" she asked.

"Only that I would keep an eye on things, occasionally, just to make sure that you weren't getting in over your head."

Leah sagged back against the shelves. She was disappointed and confused. After all, this was supposed to be her big chance. She knew she had been doing well and she didn't want any interference. The more she thought about it, the more she felt her temper beginning to rise; it was time she stood up to James Willoughby.

"I'm not here to criticise," James spoke softly, "just curious to have a look, and you can ask for advice at any time. If you can possibly stop being so jumpy around me, act like an adult and actually bring yourself to speak to me as a normal human being, that is."

Leah took a deep breath. "Sorry, it's just that I don't know where I am with you."

"I know how that feels," James replied.

His words hung in the air between them.

"Would you let me buy you a coffee?" he broke the silence.

"I can't leave the shop, the decorators are coming soon and then I have the deliveries to do."

"Do you have anything here?" James persisted, still leaning against the counter, watching her, obviously in no hurry to go.

"Just instant," Leah said, remembering the huge, expensive coffee machine in his kitchen.

James followed her into the little room at the back of the shop, as she filled the kettle, put a spoon of instant into a couple of chunky mugs, and reached into the fridge for milk. Her hands felt clammy and she was too aware of his nearness; his overwhelming presence in the small room. James sat down on one of the wooden office chairs.

"I've been to Crete for a week," he said.

"Oh?" Leah handed him the coffee, hesitated, then sat down in the chair opposite him. “To see your friend with the bar?"

"Yeah, just to chill and think about a few things."

"What sorts of things?"

Leah knew she was struggling to keep the conversation going. He looked so out of place in the small, untidy back room. So sleek, so expensive, so cool. But so
hot
, too –

how could he be both?

"A problem at work,” he explained. “Amanda's no longer there, you see, so I only have a temp at the moment. Elizabeth is being a bit distant and I keep thinking about Oxford."

"Don't, please," Leah said, looking away.

"Just listen. When I was on the beach I had time to think for a change, away from the pressure of work. When I had to leave Crete before, it was because my brother had been killed. There were loads of problems to sort out, the funeral, my mother was in shock, my father had a stroke a few weeks later and I took over the business ..."

"What a lot to cope with," Leah said gently, surprised that he was actually opening up to her.

"Well, I just got on with it, sorted things at home and put a lot of time in at the business, as it had been allowed to run down. When I went back to Crete last week, I realised that while I'd been making millions, Jake has been getting married, bringing up two little boys on a shoestring, and working all hours in the beach bar. But who's happier? I played with them all in the water. The boys swim like fishes. I helped out with the bar serving drinks and I thought things over."

Leah sipped her coffee slowly, thinking that this was a completely new side to James, but she
still
wasn't really sure why he had come to the shop.

"Leah, let's get this straight, I'm not going to keep saying this. I don't want you to be so edgy around me. I'm not going to interfere in the shop, but I can help if you need it."

"Well, okay," Leah replied. She’d recovered some composure. "Perhaps we
can
act like adults."

"But, I also wanted to say that I did enjoy Oxford. Not just the sex. I mean, that goes without saying, but the rest of the day, too ..." James leaned towards her.

He’d thrown her off balance again!

"I don't know why, but I keep thinking that I want you,” he said. “And I sense, if you're honest, that you feel the same. We didn't get the chance to finish the night at the hotel, so could we just get it out of the way. We're both adults - one more night. Come to mine, stay all night and afterwards we can move on."

Leah didn't know whether to be angry or excited. She could hardly believe what he'd just suggested. One more night with James: no strings, no expectations, one night out of her fairly solitary, ordinary life with the fabulous, sexy man sitting opposite her, their knees almost touching.

He excited her, and aroused her, but she also felt that he scared her a little.

"Are you serious?" she asked.

"Perfectly. Is it a yes?" he asked as he stood up.

"It's a ... maybe."

With that, he strode away from her, into the newly painted shop, and, for a moment, Leah actually thought he was just going to leave. But at the door he turned.

"I'll send a taxi for you at eight on Saturday. Think about it. Your own decision; no pressure. Have you still got that bridesmaid's dress?" Leah realise he was smiling.

"Yeah ... Why?"

"Wear it. We can have a bit of fun. But this time, bring something to change into for the morning."

And then he was gone, leaving her shaken.

"You're not actually going to
go
?" Emma said, stunned.

She put two plates of chicken salad on the table, picked up her fork and put it down again. Leah had told her all about James's visit to the shop, and his outrageous idea.

"I didn't say yes. I said maybe."

"You're leading him on, then won't get into the taxi? Serves him right."

"I do want to go, if I can cope with it. He's like a magnet to me, there in the back of my mind ... An obsession." She’d said it at last: finally faced the truth about how driven she felt.

"He's trouble, Leah. He's lent you money. This could all go so wrong."

"If he wants to talk about the shop in future, I'll tell him to arrange a proper meeting, with Charlie there as well."

"After you've spent the night with him, dressed up in that pink dress? It's some kind of fantasy. I didn’t think he could even be into something kinky."

"Oxford was so great, Emma. I've never felt like this before, pure physical attraction.  I really am tempted to go. I can’t help it. I mean, what else am I doing with my life? And it's just one night."

"But what happens afterwards, the next morning?" Emma added, still worried.

"I come home and we probably won't see each other again."

"And you really think you can cope with that? What if you want more? It could break your heart."

"It's a risk, sure. I'm just so confused, my head says no and my body says yes."

"I need a drink," Emma stated.

Leah was in a state of turmoil. He had walked into the shop, just when she had her mind full of plans and improvement schemes, and disturbed her
again
.

She imagined phoning Centrax and leaving a message for him with his temporary PA, saying that she would decline the offer of a night with him next Saturday.

She thought of sending the taxi away, staying in her room and just forgetting him.

She also considered dressing in that awful, clinging dress, climbing into the waiting taxi and being taken to his huge house like some sort of sultan's concubine.

Would he have champagne ready, get her to drink too much, fall onto his bed and wait for him to find her?

Or would he just get her out of the dress, kiss her, hold her, take her willingly, beyond her usual limits?

And would he, possibly, ever want to see her again afterwards?

Oh, it was just too much, she couldn't think properly ...

“Lucy’s calling in on her way home, she sounded a bit low.” Leah realised that Emma was talking.

“Lucy, low? I hope it's not trouble in paradise."

Emma collected the empty plates and then poured them each a drink.

"I suppose she's finding it a bit lonely. I mean, Sam works such long shifts at the hospital."

"We don't really know Sam very well do we?" Leah mused. And she suddenly remembered that James had described him as ‘difficult’.

"I think we should get her to stay and talk, it might help her and I need something different to think about."

It was only a few weeks since the wedding, and they still had Canada to look forward to. Leah hoped that nothing was going to go wrong between Lucy and Sam. She was such a sensitive creature, really quite fragile under all that beauty ...

§

Lucy looked slightly pale when she arrived. She was still just as pretty as always, but with dark smudges under her eyes, and certainly not the blooming bride of last May.

"Drink?" Emma asked, waving the bottle of red.

"No thanks, it makes me tired. I'll just have  coffee," Lucy answered.

"Are you busy at the salon?" Emma persisted.

"As usual. I just never seem to get away on time."

"Are you pregnant?" Leah blurted out.

They both looked at her, then Lucy's eyes filled with tears, and Leah felt she’d made a big mistake opening her mouth.

"It's not that," Lucy said as she fished a tissue from her pocket. "We just seem to have trouble getting time together, and then, when we do it all just goes
wrong
. Sam works such long shifts, I never know when he'll be back and I never seem to be able to have any kind of food ready. He'll be hungry, and either I've made something which is dry from keeping it warm, or I wait until he gets in and try to do something quick, which doesn't turn out properly."

"Lucy, he didn't marry you for your lasagne!" Leah protested.

Emma was quiet, thinking things through, as usual.

"So, he expects a proper meal at any time, and he must know you can't really cook, and anyway you work full time as well."

Lucy nodded.

"There must be a cafe at the hospital? Why not suggest that he eats there during his break occasionally, or brings in a take-away if he's late? You could get ready meals, pretend you made them." Emma was trying hard to come up with a solution.

Lucy smiled, at last. "It's good to talk about it, I've missed you both," she said with a sniff.

"Tell him to text you as he leaves the hospital, let you know when he'll be in, and what's wrong with Sam making his own supper?" Leah added.

Leah thought it was time to try and find out a little more about Sam.

"Have you heard anything about Sam's parents? They weren't at the wedding were they?"

"No, apparently they divorced some time ago,” Lucy replied. “His mother lives in Australia with a partner now, and his father can be anywhere in the world. He's some sort of top person with NATO, that's why they sent Sam to boarding school in England when he was young/”

"Must have been a bit lonely for him," Emma stated.

"Well, that's where he met Robbie Willoughby. They made friends straight away and Robbie used to take him home to Norfolk every holiday. Apparently Robbie lived in this great house, lots of land, woods and even a lake. They were just left to run a bit wild, do whatever they wanted, camping out, fishing and so on. He says it was the most fantastic time. Mrs Willoughby seems to have been a sort of second mother to him."

Sam had indeed obviously told Lucy quite a lot about his childhood.

"And that's how he knows James," Leah observed.

"Oh, he said James was a bit remote, an older brother, had his own friends."

"Thanks for the meal last Friday, by the way, it was good to see everyone," Emma said.

Lucy went quiet, and looked upset again, Leah felt that they were treading on egg shells.

"
Was
it okay?” she sighed. “I was worried. James intimidates me a bit. He seemed so quiet, and I hadn't met Elizabeth before."

"Well, it was very nice," Leah said, feeling guilty that she hadn't really been very good company herself at the restaurant. She hadn't made any effort, as she’d been too busy trying to avoid James.

"I suggested it,” Lucy sighed. “Sam agreed and said we should also invite James because he had let us use the house, and then, when it came to it, he acted almost as though he didn't want to bother. Said he was tired and was really quiet on the way there." At this, Lucy paused.

Leah was opening her mouth again, about to ask another question, but felt Emma tread on her toe under the table; a silent warning.

They remained silent, waiting for Lucy to reveal more.

"I was a bit upset, but then, when Elizabeth came, Sam suddenly perked up, chatting and joking. I got annoyed later on, that he could make the effort for other people, and on the way home I decided to mention it." Lucy stopped and her eyes began to fill with tears again. Emma and Leah remained silent.

"We had a row when we got back to the flat and he called me a spoilt bitch," Lucy said softly.

It was Emma who broke the uneasy silence that followed.

"You're nothing of the kind, Lucy. Sam just lost it, that’s all. It's well known that it's hard getting used to each other at first. You haven't actually lived together for long, have you? Did you make up again?”

"Oh yes, the next morning he said he was sorry and he's been really nice since, but it just upset me at the time. I'm fine, I just really needed to talk about it. But you can forget it now, it's all over."

Lucy stood, picked up her bag and said she must go. She gave them both a hug, clinging on to Emma for quite a while.

"See you both soon," she said quietly, on her way out.

"I don't like it," Emma stated once they were alone in the kitchen once more.

"Do you
really
think it's just sort of getting used to each other?" Leah asked.

"I hope so. But I do think he might be trying to squash her. Because she's so lovely, Lucy's used to having men falling over themselves, running around after her, and I think Sam has made up his mind not to do it. I hope I'm wrong but I think he wants to dominate her."

"James said he could be a handful, and that she might have to toughen up a bit," Leah supplied.

"Really? And he's known Sam since he was a child. We must make sure to see more of her before they go to Canada, to try to keep an eye on what's going on. I wish we could get her to be a bit more assertive. They're obviously mad about each other. It shouldn't go wrong."

"When I saw her at the wedding, looking so fabulous, I felt a little jealous. I wanted it to be me getting married," Leah stated. "But it's not always quite so easy is it, the fairy-tale ending?"

"Perhaps you can find out more about Sam on Saturday, if you go," Emma said.

"Saturday! You really think I might consider it?"

"You didn't say no, did you?" Emma laughed.

"I said
maybe
," Leah answered. "And if I did go, I don't think I would be there to talk about Sam!"

"So, it's still possible?" Emma asked.

"Maybe ..."