Priceless: Contemporary Billionaire Romance Novel (12 page)

Chapter Twelve

Maribel
spent the first hour of work, reorganizing all the jewelry cases, daydreaming
about Miles.  It had been hard to stop thinking about him.  They had spent the entire
morning together at the downtown public library—one of Maribel’s favorite
places in the Loop.  They admired a few post-modern paintings, peered into the
Winter Garden, and settled themselves on the seventh floor, drifting through
the language and literature resources section while holding hands and silently
leafing through stacks and stacks of literary classics. They had only been
together three days, but already she felt like she couldn’t wait to see him
again.  Before last night, she had been anxious about staying overnight at his
apartment.  She didn’t want to move too far, too fast into something that could
be over before she even had a chance to understand it.  But after their night together—last
night—everything changed for her. 

From
the beginning—from the very first moment he spoke to her three days ago—Miles
made her feel like she was the only thing of value in his life.  And when he
undressed her…
God, yes, when he undressed her
… he made her feel like
she was the only one who held the power to satisfy him.  She had tested him
last night, holding herself back because she needed reassurance that it was all
more than just sex to him.  He had sensed her reservations and gave her the
lead.  Now, she couldn’t stop thinking about all the way he had pleasured her last
night—the way he massaged her breasts and sucked her nipples; the way he had
encouraged her to touch herself in front of him while he licked her most
private parts and let her gush for him; the way he fingered her from behind,
spreading open her backside and sliding his erection between her cheeks,
stimulating her with his slick tip.  The way she felt herself dilate with every
tuck, slowly opening, then closing with heavy anticipation; the way he groped
her thighs and backside before penetrating her with yearning.  She still burned
with the searing sensation of his firmness, and considered how Miles drove deep—deeper
than she ever thought possible—inside her and discharged all her defenses. 

Last
night, Miles had sealed their connection with the deepest intimacy Maribel had
ever known.  But most importantly, he had articulated it with his whispering confession—
I’m
going to fall in love with you, Maribel Martinez
.  Maribel tried hard not
to consider whether or not it would come true.  For now, she simply wanted to
replay in her mind all the ways he had tried to prove it to her.

No,
she couldn’t stop thinking about him—or his intimate touch
. 
She could only mindlessly rearrange all the jewelry pieces in the cases, and fix
her eyes on the luxury watches, considering every minute that ticked, ticked,
ticked by, which brought her closer to another night with him. 

“Hello,
I’d like to buy some jewelry.”

The
woman’s sharp voice interrupted Maribel’s thoughts. 
Mink coat. Diamond
ring.  Alligator leather purse
.  The woman was a serious customer.     

“Yes,
of course.” Maribel quickly closed the case and turned to assist the woman. 
“How may I help you?”

“What’s
your most popular item?”

“Well,
we have so many lovely pieces to choose from… it simply depends on your tastes
and preferences.”

“Gold,”
the woman laughed with abrupt candor.  “And expensive.”

It
was almost a hiss.  Maribel noted the woman’s bright white teeth and shining
smile.

“Gold,”
Maribel repeated.  “Yellow or white?”

“Yellow,
of course,” the woman cried out, as if it was obvious.  Then, her feline eyes
dropped down onto both Maribel’s wrists.

“Although
I must say… those are very nice.  From here?”

“The
tennis bracelet, no.  But the watch, yes.”

“Lovely,”
The woman nodded.  “And that…?”  Her eyes flicked at Maribel’s ruby pendant. 

“Yes,
from here as well,” Maribel answered slowly, “Would you like to see our
necklaces? We have a wonderful selection.”

“Why
not,” the woman laughed again, slipping her red fingernails across the top of
the glass counter with a rap, rap, rap.

Maribel
carefully considered all the options, then pulled out three choices and lay
them onto the countertop.

“Each
of these necklaces is stylish and sophisticated, but each has its own specific
flare—a short modern chocker with Japanese pearls; a long braided chain with a
twist diamond pendant; and a gold cable link chain with multi-colored gemstones…”

“I’ll
take all three,” the woman said without a beat.

Maribel
paused, replaying the woman’s words to be sure she had heard “all three”
correctly.  The woman gazed at Maribel with confidence.  There was something
about her that made Maribel feel inferior.  Her impatience.  Her dominance. 
Her ability to know exactly what she wanted without even needing to weigh all
her options.  There was no hesitation in her voice; there was only chilling
certainty.

“Okay,
yes… wonderful.”

“Separate
boxes, of course.”

“Yes,
of course.”

Then,
the woman slipped her credit card across to Maribel.

Maribel
lifted up each necklace from the counter, turned to the register, and scanned
the tags
.  $4,556
.51.  Maribel couldn’t believe the total.  She double
checked the screen, then confirmed the description of each item.  Almost
five-thousand dollars.  Maribel felt certain the woman would purchase one
necklace… or maybe even earrings.  She never expected she would purchase all
three.  When Maribel returned to the counter with the printed receipt, she
noticed the woman gazing down at her ladybug slippers.

“Comfortable?”

“Yes,”
Maribel flushed. “I have to stand all day, so heels can be a little much.”

The
woman narrowed her eyes, sizing up Maribel.

“You’re
really very modest, aren’t you?” she snickered, as if it was the funniest
observation in the world. “It’s a good thing you’ve got such sparkling jewelry
to spice you up.”

Maribel
suddenly felt uneasy.  “Just your signature,” she offered and quickly returned
to the register to finish the gift boxes.

“You
know, I don’t usually shop here.  I prefer Tiffany’s or Gucci.  This is a bit
low-end for me.”

Maribel
felt the sting of the comment, but kept focused.  Her hands trembled as she
clipped off the tags and rearranged the first necklace under tissue paper. “We
try to cater to all tastes and budgets.”

“Yes,
I can see that,” the woman hissed through her white teeth.  “I think, in the
end, I’ve changed my mind.”  She slid the signed receipt back across the
counter.  “I’ll only take the pearl choker and multi-colored gemstone necklace. 
You can credit the third as a return without any trouble, I’m sure.”

Almost
five-thousand dollars
.  Maribel knew it had been too easy. 
She pulled the diamond pendant necklace out of its gift box—the most expensive
of all three necklaces—and returned it to the case.  Then, she rescanned its
clipped tag, and swiped the woman’s credit card to produce the refund receipt.

“I’ll
just need your signature again,” Maribel said, offering the woman the remaining
two necklaces, boxed up in a sleek shopping bag.

“Oops,
looks like I’ve changed my mind again.” The woman’s sly eyes glazed over
Maribel. “Won’t be needing this one either.”

The
woman removed one of the boxes from the bag and pushed it back across the
counter, then scrawled her signature across the first refund receipt.  Maribel
stopped and looked down at its illegible writing. 
Why had she thought this
woman was a serious customer
?  Now, Maribel couldn’t say.  She took back
the second box and returned to the register.  She processed the second refund
and slid its receipt into the woman’s red lacquered fingernails.

“Oops,
changed my mind again… looks like I won’t be needing any jewelry after all.”

“Gillian—”
Miles’ voice cut across the Grand Lobby.  Maribel spotted him, charging towards
her and the woman. 

Gillian
. 
Maribel had remembered the name and the way Miles’ expression changed every
time he answered her phone call.  The woman quickly took back her credit card
and the shopping bag, and whisked away to meet him.

“Fancy
meeting you here, handsome,” Gillian touched Miles’ cheek with her hand, but he
resisted it and glanced over at Maribel. 

“Don’t—”
he said to her with stern eyes.

They
know each other well
.  Maribel tried hard not to stare. 

“Just
finishing up a little shopping.  We’re closing the Olson & Anderson deal with
Harvey Zale, and I thought that I would treat myself to something special.  But
then I realized I prefer a more upscale experience.”  Gillian finished her
words like she was finishing a dry wine.  “Really, Miles…I expected more from
you.”  Her eyes flicked over at Maribel, who peered back at them.

“And
I expected nothing less from you.”

Gillian
smirked and touched his tie.  “When you get bored, give me a call.”

Miles
let her walk away without looking back.  His jaw flinched, then he turned to
survey the damage.

 “Who
is she?”

“My
ex-real estate broker.”

“Is
that all?” Maribel’s eyes confronted him.  She wanted Miles to know that she
was modest, but not stupid.

Miles
approached the counter and suddenly covered her hand with tenderness.  She
attempted to pull away. 
Someone might see them together
, Maribel
petitioned him with her eyes.

I
don’t care
, he told her with his cool blue stare and secured
her hand.

“We’re
meeting again tonight.”  It wasn’t a question.

 “I
don’t know… perhaps it’s better for me to go home tonight.”

 “Don’t—don’t
do this.”

Their
eyes locked.  Maribel had forgotten that he had spent every moment with her for
the past three days; he knew when her pride had been wounded.

“I’m
sorry you had to deal with Gillian.  She’s my headache, not yours.  Please,
tell me you’re coming back to spend the night with me. Please…”

It
was impossible to resist his earnest gaze, promising her that he would make it
up to her.  He was dressed in a shale grey suit and glacial shirt and tie.  His
hair was slick wet, fresh from a shower and shave, and his complexion radiated
with warmth under the glare of the department store lights.  Miles always
looked so powerful and handsome during the work day.  It was hard to say “no”
to him.

“What’s
for dinner?” she suddenly asked with a reluctant smile.

“Soft
tacos and fried ice cream.”

He
smiled at her.  She smiled wider.  It was her favorite, and he knew it.

* * * *

Maribel inhaled as the frozen ball of
vanilla fried ice cream balanced itself on her tummy; she savored its cold sting
against her skin.  They had eaten dinner in his penthouse—and then moved onto
dessert.  She had finished her fried ice cream after their meal.  He had saved
his serving—until now.  He had turned off all the lights in the kitchen and
moved to undress her—sweater, bra, skirt, stockings, panties—by the light of
the moon.  Then, he undressed himself—shirt, tie, shoes, pants, socks, boxers—before
spreading their naked bodies across the cool hard surface of the granite
island.  She was his sacrificial offering and he had planned to indulge in
her. 

Miles slid the fried ice cream ball
across her bare tummy and down to the tip of her pubic bone.  Maribel shivered
with anticipation, feeling the sleek polished granite against her arms and back,
the sting of the fried ice cream between her legs, and the warmth of Miles’
hands, snaking her closer and closer towards him.  He dangled her knees off the
edge and exhaled his breath between her legs. 
Yes, she kneeeeeeeeeeeeew him
now…
Maribel sighed and relaxed, just like he wanted.  She knew how much he
loved the challenge of lowering her defenses, arousing her with restraint
before priming her with the introduction of something dominating and taboo. 
Maribel felt the cool stream of ice cream drip, drip, drip down over her crotch
and pressed her palms against the hard granite.  Then, she felt him slowly lick
her—cautiously, sensually, making sure not to enter her too fast until he had secured
her consent. 
Yes, he always secured her consent
.  Maribel had
fantasized about him all day, owning her in this way.  When he was certain that
she would not push him away or refuse more, he lowered his chin again and delved
deeper, devouring the combined sweetness of the melting ice cream and her
gushing wetness.  She shuttered with each hot flick of his tongue. 
God, he
knew her body so well, better than she knew it herself
.  His lifted his
eyes in the darkness and told her want he wanted—
to bring her to climax with
just his tongue
.  Maribel didn’t know if she could do it.  Miles dropped
the ice cream ball between her legs and ate away part of its crust, then touched
its stark velvet cream against Maribel’s clit.  She shuttered again, sparked by
the nip of polar ice, before surrendering to the rushing warmth of Miles’ mouth,
pleasuring her deeper, and deeper, and deeper than ever before.