Bought By The Billionaire

Chapter 16: Bought By The Billionaire - Chapter Sixteen

Ross drops Richard back at the office, then helps me pack my small number of possessions into the car—a few clothes and personal items, my steam-driven laptop, and my books. None of the furniture is mine, and I wouldn’t want it in my lovely new apartment anyway. When we return to the apartment block, with Ross staggering slightly under the weight of a cardboard box full of books, the concierge gives me a key. I notice that he is wearing a fresh shirt and is now sitting upright and alert at his desk.

“You’ve given me the wrong one,” I say. “This is for 127A. Mine is 47A.”

“That’s the one Mr Haswell said I was to give you.”

“Oh. Right.” Puzzled, I take the lift to the twelfth floor, Ross following me.

The twelfth-floor apartment is amazing. High above the city, the gorgeous park view is below, but now the view opens far over buildings old and new, across the river, and out to the hills beyond. There are three bedrooms, a huge lounge and dining area overlooking those stunning vistas in three directions, and a bathroom to die for with all polished glass and chrome fittings as well as a Jacuzzi.

I am torn between a broad grin and embarrassment.

“Where do you want this?” asks Ross, still weighed down under his load.

“Umm … I’m not sure. Anywhere, Ross. Just put it down.” I don’t know quite what to do next. “I can’t stay here. I can’t possibly afford it.”

Ross looks at me with a slightly pitying expression. “You’re working for Mr Haswell?”

“Er, yes …”

“So, he pays your wages? He knows how much you earn?”

“Yes.”

your landlord, so he

“Err ... yes ...”

he told the concierge

“Yes.”

And you can afford it. Now, where

can I say? I look around my new glorious apartment. Where to

I need to decide how to lay things out, and it’s not as

my things as best I can with no furniture. I am just deciding that I should

Elizabeth. It’s me,

“Oh, come on up. It’s wonderful

Master enters then drops the latch on the apartment door. “I don’t want to be interrupted right now.” He

start to speak. “I want to

better fashion. Now where …?” He glances around the lounge and then walks to the

up my chin to kiss me on the mouth, then he gradually pushes me

skirt and panties

again. I unzip my skirt, letting it slide down to my feet before stepping out of it and kicking it to one side. I then slip down my already noticeably damp panties. Pretty and black though they

my blouse, sliding his hands inside, and then slipping it off my shoulders to also drop, discarded, to the floor. Next, he unhooks my bra, leaving

my hair and pulls it tumbling down over my shoulders, a tumbling red torrent to match the

“Undress me, Elizabeth.”

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