Safe: In the Billionaire's Hands, #2

Acknowledgement

A big ‘thank you’ to all my wonderful readers.

SAFE

Billionaire Drake Patterson offers destitute Lauren Matthews a proposition:  Spend a year with him and obey three rules.

It’s a Cinderella story without the glass slipper, but can she take a chance of being happy without ‘Ever After’?

WARNING: This two-part billionaire romance is for busy women who devour stories in bite-sized morsels.

One

––––––––

The next morning Lauren woke feeling more refreshed than she remembered ever feeling.  She turned—

And nearly fell off the end of the bed.

Where’s the back of the sofa bed? she wondered in bewilderment, pulling herself back from the edge just before she went over it.

She scrambled upright and looked around her.  The creamy brown walls and matching carpets were unfamiliar.  So were the cream chaise lounge and armchair.  The bed felt wonderfully firm beneath her.

As she rubbed her hands against the soft sheets, almost purring with pleasure, everything came flooding back.

Reaching hastily under the plump pillow which she had pummelled in frustration the night before, she grabbed her mobile phone and checked the time.

It was mid-morning. 

Disappointment made her flop weakly back onto the bed.

Drake had left hours ago.

And she hadn’t even said goodbye.

I miss you already, baby.

Had he kissed her on the forehead, pulled the covers back up around her shoulders and whispered those words in her ear?

She must have imagined it.

And yet the words echoed in her head.

As she turned to snuggle her face back into the pillow, a flash of white on the right bedside table caught her eye.

Scrambling upright again, her heartbeat quickened when she saw the gold pen lying on the single sheet of folded paper.

The contract.

Drake had been in the room.

Her left hand curled around the pen as she reached for the paper.

The three rules were in what she assumed was Drake’s bold, surprisingly legible handwriting.

Her hand shook as she scanned the page.

The final rule took her breath away.

OMG!

What he wanted from her was what she desperately wanted most.

What Neil would have denied her, if she’d married him.

A baby.

A child of her own to shower with love.

***

The morning air of the affluent neighbourhood seemed crisp and fresh as Lauren made her way to the Tube station on foot the following morning.  Gallagher had given her a disapproving look when she’d turned down his offer for a lift, even if it was only a five minute drive.

Not many vehicles passed by her on her journey.  The ones that did were mostly high-end cars which barely polluted the air with their efficient exhaust systems.

Some people in London had started to wear masks while they traversed the city’s busy streets to avoid breathing in foul air.  She’d considered it on more than one occasion when some vehicle had gone pass and literally belched toxic fumes into her face.

I wouldn’t have to do that here, she thought as she entered the station.

Yet another reason, if she’d needed one, to take Drake up on his offer.

Even the commuters waiting alongside her on the platform seemed better dressed, less boisterous, more patient than the ones at her usual station.

It was really how the other half lived.

The minute Lauren arrived in the office, she greeted her work colleagues warmly and asked her manager Florence Davis if she could have a word in private.

What’s this about, snapped the older woman as they entered the small meeting room.  You know how busy I am Monday mornings.

And to think that I was feeling guilty for not giving you proper notice.

I’m leaving at the end of the week, Lauren informed her, holding out her letter of resignation.

You’re required to work a month’s notice! the woman snapped, the loose flesh at her neck wobbling in indignation.

The woman had lost substantial weight by faithfully following the LighterLife diet years ago.  Sadly, she looked as though she was living in someone else’s skin ever since.  She had been full of scorn when Lauren had politely declined to start the programme as well.  Not even the woman gushing about the amazing group of women who met weekly to support one another had tempted Lauren.

Florence seemed to have taken the refusal as an insult.  Their previously cordial relationship had gradually to a barely-polite frostiness.

And every time Lauren dared put anything but a stick of celery or carrot into her mouth in the woman’s presence, the woman glanced over her glasses at her in disapproval.  

Lauren knew that it wouldn’t hurt for her to lose some weight, but the more people she saw on television who needed skin surgery after drastic weight lost, the less the idea of dieting appealed.  She would be happy with her body the way it was, if her breasts and butt would jiggle just a tiny bit less.

Florence had been a manager for long enough to know that she couldn’t discriminate because of dress size without being reprimanded, but Lauren had been subjected to it in subtle ways. Once being refused a day off when it had clashed with a colleague, even though Lauren’s application had been the first received.  When Lauren had applied for several training courses offered by the council, she’d been turned down based on ‘relevance to her job’.  Lauren could have fought the manager’s decision—the training would have been relevant if she’d moved to another department in the council—but she’d let the matter go.

Now, thanks to Drake, she could gut punch the old witch!

You either accept a week’s notice or I quit now, she informed her boss coldly.

The woman stiffened in shock.  Lauren understood the woman’s reaction—even she was surprised by her own words.

That would be a violation of the terms and conditions of your contract! the woman reminded Lauren.

It felt good to put the woman’s nose out of joint.

Lauren had twice been passed over for promotion to a higher grade within the department.  It could have been because she hadn’t been the best candidate on the day.  She didn’t have substantial proof, but Lauren always suspected that it was because of her weight—the two women who had been promoted were both fashionably slender.

Even when Florence had been a larger woman, she’d had enormous respect for women who were able to keep their weight under tight control, pawing the pages of anorexic-looking celebrities in newspapers and magazines.  She had a real issue with excess weight, saying that with access to the best foods, gyms and personal trainers, no celebrity should be overweight.

In the same way born-again Christians sometimes scorned sinners, the former ‘fatty’ had become a fat-shamer.

Suddenly Lauren was in no mood to play nice with her.

Let’s cut to the chase, Flo, Lauren replied, secretly smiling as two red spots of colour appeared on the woman’s indignant face.

Her manager insisted on her staff calling her ‘Ms Davis’ and particularly hated to be called by the shortened form of her name—expect by the director.  The woman simmered like a teenage girl whenever the younger man used the form of address.

It’s Ms Davis to you! she snapped.

I can do a Liz if you insist, Lauren continued, as though the woman hadn’t spoken.  Elizabeth Blake, a former colleague of Lauren’s, had gone to lunch one Thursday and never returned or made further contact.  The job was mostly a pain in the butt, but she’d tried to do it to the best of her ability.  She had gained some experience from her years on the job and would like to share it, if given the chance.  Otherwise, she’d walk away and to hell with the poor newbie who would spend the first months on the job struggling.  I’m trying to do the decent thing by giving you a chance to contact the agency and get someone in so that I can hand over my workload.  If you continue to insist on a month’s notice, I’ll simply go to my GP for a sick certificate starting tomorrow.  That way you can pay full pay for the next month...or six.

Lauren’s words did the trick.  The work was stressful, but she’d had only a couple days off sick since starting the job.  She could go to her GP in the morning and obtain a sick certificate to cover her not only for the coming month, but every month until she’d exhausted the six months of full pay to which she was entitled.  The woman couldn’t afford further strain on her budget—there were already two members of staff currently on long-term sick leave whose jobs were being covered by agency staff.

Okay.  The older woman took the offered letter and got to her feet.  Just don’t expect a decent recommendation from me.

I don’t need one, Lauren informed her, crossing her fingers behind her back.  But if I did, you would be breaking the law if you gave me a bad one.

The woman walked out of the room without saying another word.

Lauren sat back down and tried to stifle a giggle.

A part of her was appalled at her reckless behaviour, but another part was doing a fist pump.

Worst case scenario, she would move back with her parents for a while.  She would enjoy cooking, cleaning and looking after them for a change, and they would be thrilled to have her home safe, away from the ‘dangers of London’ as they put it.

And the timing of her resignation couldn’t be more perfect.  It was both pay day and the last working day of the month this coming Friday.  It meant that she wouldn’t be overpaid.  She would also be due a pro-rata payment for annual leave she hadn’t yet taken which would be paid next month.

The sum would come in handy if she got cold feet at the last minute and decided to leave London without signing Drake’s contract.

She wouldn’t be rolling in money, but this month’s salary and the payment in lieu of annual leave would stretch a long way if she moved back in with her parents.

But even as she contemplated being enfolded by their warmth and love again, she felt a keener yearning for the scary unknown Drake offered.

She’d taken the safe route for most of her life and it had gotten her nowhere.

She’d dated an ordinary man and hoped to live an ordinary life.

That ordinary man had turned out to be a needy, selfish and untrustworthy bastard.

Drake was offering her a life she’s dreamed of as a little girl—being a pampered princess—even if it was only for one year.

There were risks.

She hadn’t taken Stacey’s warning lightly.  She knew that powerful men sometimes had strange even unhealthy desires...but so had Neil to some extent.

Being small of stature, he’d seemed to feel the need to dominate her in any way he could—some she’d allowed; others she hadn’t.  She’d allowed him to blindfold her but not to handcuff her to the bed.  Allowed him to hold her head in place and use her mouth roughly as a vessel to satiate his lust and receive his seed.  She hadn’t allowed him to take her anally, despite the fact that he’d thought it was his right since she had given her virginity to another man, even though it had been before she’d even met him.

If it had been in an attempt to further explore their lovemaking, to find ways to increase their pleasure, Lauren might have acquiesced.  But he’d acted as though by denying him the pleasure of being the first to breach one passage, he had a right to breach the other.

She’d flatly refused, reminding him that he hadn’t come to her a virgin, so why was her not being one such an issue?

She didn’t expect