Victoria The Billionaires Maid

Yeah, I was so not looking. I pulled down my shirt and cursed my overstimulated body. Everything was hot and tingling and it was all so wrong.

I spun on my heel and silently sprinted down the hallway to the stairs. I heard him curse under his breath behind me, but I kept going.

Yeah, I was running. Sue me.

There was no way I could handle any of this today. Not emotionally and definitely not intellectually. I’d found out why Seth made all the girls come around.

Five more minutes and I would have come.

And that was five minutes I could never get back, nor live through over and over again.

He caught me at the door and jerked me to a stop before I could make it to the safety of the night. To the normalcy of my piece of shit car.

“Dammit, Al.” He turned me around and gripped both my upper arms. “Why are you running?”

“We can’t do this. Not now.”

His dark eyes fired. “Why not?”

My chest was heaving. My fight or flight instincts were in full-on escape route mode. “Please let me go.”

I don’t know if it was the please or something he saw in my eyes. Whatever it was, he dropped his hands and I stumbled back and out the door.

I didn’t look back to see if he followed. I could only pray he wouldn’t.

My breath returned to normal when I was inside my car. I finally dared a look and quickly returned my eyes to front and center. To the moonlit water off the bank of his property.

To the lake that had been the only home I’d ever truly known.

I had to.

I couldn’t watch him stand on that huge staircase and drive away from him. So I stared out the back window until I was on the road again, and I didn’t look into my rearview mirror.

Not even once.

Seth’s [POV]

Shaking off the rain on my hair, I stepped into the darkened, intimate atmosphere of the Sherman Inn. My stomach was roaring and my mind was in knots.

As for my dick, I wasn’t going there.

It had taken me days of wearing her down, but Ally had finally agreed to meet me for dinner and “some time” in town on Friday night.

“Some time” probably being an hour or less, considering her skittish tone as we’d talked that afternoon. But hell, after Sunday’s kiss, I considered it huge progress that she was talking to me at all. She’d run awful damn fast the other day.

I couldn’t even really blame her. I’d pushed for the kiss to happen and it had still almost blown my fucking head off.

“Table for two, please,” I told the maitre d’. I was running late, but Ally tended to run even later so I felt safe in assuming I’d be snagging our table.

Normally, I would’ve placed a reservation, but this wasn’t supposed to be a date. Reservations screamed dates, according to Ally, so she’d wanted us to try our luck for a table. At one of the busiest restaurants in Crescent Cove on a Friday night at the start of summer.

Right.

“This way, sir,” the maitre d’ said, proving me wrong. Even as I followed the tall, severe-looking man in black, Ally’s voice echoed in my head.

Hamilton money buys tables. You don’t need a reservation. Watch.

“Did someone just leave?” I asked.This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

The maitre d’ shot me a cool smile. “On weekend nights, we’re booked solid all day and night. Your table, sir.” He gestured toward a secluded corner table with a lake view and candles flickering under glass domes.

“You know who I am then.” Why I needed the confirmation, I didn’t know. Maybe some part of me hoped Ally was wrong. She had to be wrong now and then.

It wasn’t as if I didn’t know my family’s influence in Crescent Cove. Of course I did. Hamilton Realty had been a fixture in the community since my grandfather was a young man. I was also a regular at the Sherman Inn. But I’d never seen this guy before in my life.

“Yes, sir.” He pulled out a chair and gestured. “Your server will be here in a moment with the wine list. Your companion’s name so I can direct her to your table?”

“Alison Lawrence. She should be here soon-”

“Right behind you,” she said cheerfully. “Got a table, huh?” she commented as I turned and tried not to swallow my tongue.

She wasn’t wearing anything special. Correction-she wasn’t wearing anything I hadn’t seen her in a hundred times before. She had on a pale yellow sundress with tiny purple flowers, cowboy boots, and a tight jean jacket, with her long hair flowing in every which direction and matted a little from the misty rain. It didn’t matter. She was simply stunning.

How hadn’t I noticed before?

“Miss,” the maitre d’ said, pulling out the chair opposite me while I stood and stared. Mutely.

Smooth, dude. Real smooth.

Ally shot me a sidelong glance as she skirted around me to slip into her seat. “Thank you.”

“Enjoy your meal.” The maitre d’ melted away and almost immediately, our server appeared.

I dropped into my chair and accepted the wine list, ordering a bottle of rose for the table before my brain clicked back into gear.

Ally kicked me as soon as the server went to fulfill my request. “Hi there, remember me? I wanted a martini.”

“Since when?” Oh look, my lips could come unglued long enough to stick my foot between them.

“Since I felt like a damn martini. What is wrong with you?” She leaned forward and laid a hand on my forehead. “You’re flushed. Do you have a fever?”

“Some virus is running through Laurie’s class, so maybe.” I eased away from her hand and she picked up her napkin. Her touching me right now was not the best idea.

My cock thought it was awesome, but that part of me wasn’t known for its good judgment.

“And you left her with a babysitter just to come out with me?”

“She’s not sick,” I snapped irritably. “And I left her with her uncle. Oliver took her to the Faraday party so he doesn’t have to stay long.”

Ally paused midway through spreading her napkin on her lap. “He brought your little girl to a fancy work party? Why didn’t you go?”

“Because I’m having dinner with you.”

“Oh, right, because this is such an important event that you can’t miss it.”

“I haven’t seen you since the weekend. Every time I stop in the diner, you’re not there.”

“Darn. Must’ve missed you.” She glanced out the window. “Damn rain. Can barely see the lake.”

“Yeah, you’re wet.” I brushed a damp curl away from her cheek and she bristled, backing away from my touch just as I’d done.

My words hung in the air between us. Heavy, rich with meaning well beyond what I’d intended.

“In your dreams, Hamilton,” she said, her taunt falling short of the target.

She didn’t know my dreams. I was only beginning to fathom their scope myself.

Our server returned with our bottle of wine. After pouring it into two glasses, I ordered Ally a martini even though her stare nearly burrowed a hole into the side of my head.

If she wanted a martini, a martini she would have. With an extra olive I could steal.

“He probably thinks I’m a wino,” she muttered as she opened her menu.

“Can’t please you, woman.”

“Sure you can. Stop ordering for me like this is a date. We never order for each other.”

“I beg to differ. Did you or did you not order the tiramisu for me the last time we went out?”

“That’s because it was a sacrilege you’d never had it. And you licked the plate clean.” She disappeared behind her menu and I grinned down at mine, barely resisting the urge to make a sly remark.

Thank God we were back on an even keel. If she stayed hidden behind that menu, I might not be starstruck by just the sight of her again.

Maybe I did have a fever.

Through our salads, braised lamb for me and chicken parm for her, and our tiramisu desserts-hey, I could admit when I’d seen the error of my ways-we kept the conversation light and easy. She had two martinis and a glass of rose, and I had two glasses of wine. Neither of us were drunk, just relaxed. Easy with each other, as we’d always been.

After the weirdness I’d introduced into our relationship with my contract, it was nice to be chill enough to laugh and tease each other as we usually did. My getting annoyed at her mention of a cute guy seated in her section of tables at the diner was new, but I chalked that up to thinking way too much about her reproductive organs lately. Thoughts in that direction tended to spread.

Kissing her senseless the other night-and being kissed back the exact same way-also probably didn’t help.

I didn’t actually care if she found another man “cute.” Bully for her.

Okay, so I cared. A lot. And that might’ve been when I’d decided to go for that second glass when I usually stopped at one when I was driving. But we wouldn’t be on the road for hours yet, since we intended to walk the shops that lined Main Street and head up the pier to check out the lake. If the freaking rain ever decided to stop screwing with our plans.