Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

SIMON

L ying in bed with Rylee, I felt more at ease than I had in weeks. The weight of the day's chaos had been lifted, replaced by an overwhelming sense of contentment. The sex had been incredible—the best of my life, without a doubt—but it was more than just physical. Rylee had given me a release I desperately needed, but she had also given me much more.

I trusted no one, but for some stupid reason, I trusted her. It was stupid and reckless to trust anyone that I didn't really know. But something about Rylee made me feel like I could trust her. She wasn't in this thing for my money. In a way, I felt like my money was the one thing she really disliked about me. Now that the excitement and heat of the moment had passed, we were left in the aftermath. I waited for the awkwardness to set in.

But it didn't. I was comfortable. I rolled to my side and looked down at her. Her eyes were closed and there was a small smile on her face. I knew she wasn't asleep. She had the look of a satisfied woman. I reached out and ran my finger across the smooth skin of her shoulder.

Her eyes fluttered open.

"Simon," she murmured sleepily, her voice saturated with contentment. It was the first time I'd heard her say my name like that. Like it was something precious and valuable, something to be savored and kept close. It sent a jolt of warmth through my chest.

I draped an arm over her waist, pulling her closer. Her body molded easily into mine, our skin still warm and slick from the earlier activities. Her head tucked into the crook of my neck, her breath brushing over my skin as she sighed in contentment.

"Hungry?" I asked her.

She laughed softly. "It's the middle of the night."

"I didn't get a chance to eat earlier, and after you just worked me over, I'm hungry."

"I did no such thing," she replied.

I kissed the top of her head. "I'm going to order room service. Are you sure you don't want anything?"

"I'm good."

I rolled to my back and grabbed the phone off the nightstand. I pushed the button to call downstairs. Unfortunately, the only way I was getting real food was via a food delivery service. And I sure as hell didn't want that. I was in hiding. I couldn't go home. I was holed up hoping no one tried to assassinate me.

After I put the phone back, I sighed. "I guess it's chocolate-dipped strawberries, champagne, and a cheese platter," I said with some disappointment.

"That's fancy," she said with a laugh.

"The kitchen is closed, but they can raid the fridge."

"Why not just order a pizza or something?" she asked.

"I can't."

"You can't?"

"It's only a matter of time before they figure out where I am," I said. "I need to limit the number of people who know I'm here."

"I could use my credit card," she offered.

I couldn't explain it, but that really made me smile. I was a billionaire. No one ever offered to buy me anything. Because I was always the richest guy in the room, it was just expected I paid. Usually, I did, but that was one of the reasons my family and I clashed. At holidays, I didn't get gifts because what could they possibly give a billionaire? But I was expected to give them stuff. Big, lavish gifts were expected from me. It felt good to have someone offer.

"It's fine," I told her. "I'll have breakfast. For now, strawberries and champagne will do. Unless you're really hungry."

"I'm fine," she said with a sigh and rolled onto her back.

The sheet only half-covered her breasts. I couldn't resist the temptation, my gaze lingering on her perfect form before I reached out to trace a pattern on her bare shoulder with my finger. Her skin was soft and warm under my touch. She shivered slightly, and a small smile played on her lips.

"Simon," she whispered, then sighed again. But this time it seemed like it was out of contentment, not disappointment.

She lay next to me, half-covered in sheets, looking more beautiful than I had ever seen any woman look. Her black hair was spread out over the pillow. I bent down and kissed the top of her breasts. Her hand ran through my hair and slid over my neck. Just when things were starting to heat up for round two, there was a knock at the door.

I groaned. "Stay put."

I disentangled myself from her and hurriedly snagged my discarded pants, pulling them on as I crossed the room to the door. Through the peephole, I saw a uniformed hotel employee, pushing a small cart laden with our late-night snack. I checked the hallway behind him, but it was empty.

Opening the door just wide enough to take in the cart, I handed him a couple of twenties. He accepted them with a nod and retreated back down the hallway without a word. I shut the door and engaged the deadbolt, leaving us once again in our quiet haven.

Turning back toward Rylee, my breath hitched. She had shifted slightly and now lay sprawled out on her back, one arm thrown casually over her head, the other resting lightly on her flat belly. The sheet had slipped further, revealing even more of her luscious curves.

How was it possible for one woman to look that sexy without even trying?

She opened her eyes and caught me looking. I held up one of the empty champagne flutes. "Champagne?"

"Sure." She smiled and sat up. I watched, nearly swallowing my tongue as she climbed out of bed, naked and beautiful and picked up my shirt. She pulled it on and sauntered toward me. I quickly opened the bottle of champagne and filled our glasses.

She took a tentative sip. "That's good."

I removed the silver dome, revealing the chocolate-covered strawberries.

"Strawberry?" I asked, offering her one. She bit into it delicately, closing her eyes in pure satisfaction.

"Uh huh," she mumbled through a mouthful of the sweet fruit.

The grin that spread across her face was nothing short of contagious. She took another sip of the bubbly drink. "So this is how the other half lives."

Despite the current situation, this moment felt perfect. It made me forget about everything for a split second. Just Rylee, me, and our little midnight treat.

We sat down, munching on the variety of fresh fruits, cheese, and meats the staff had put together for us.

"How was work?" I asked her.

"Good. Not great, but I finally reached my goal for my trip."

"I'd be happy to give you some money so you can really have the experience of a lifetime," I offered.

She laughed and shook her head. "The bottle of Black Pearl was more than enough," she said. "I don't need you to shower me with money."

"Alright, but you deserved that bottle."

"That bottle was way more than enough. What am I supposed to do with that?"

"Drink it?" I suggested with a grin.

She shook her head, still smiling. "That bottle is worth more than everything I own combined with what I could earn over six years."

I frowned. "You're not serious."

She gave me a deadpan stare. "I'm serious. Bartenders in mediocre bars don't pull in a hundred grand a year. I'm lucky to hit thirty, tops. And I don't get vacation days, so I'll lose money on this trip. Thankfully, my friend owns the house, so I won't be homeless when I get back. I'll pick up a couple of extra shifts and flash some cleavage to earn extra tips."

I frowned. "Just let me give you some cash." It seemed so simple to me—why not make her trip as amazing as possible? It wasn't like it would be much at all.

"I will pay my own way and make my own trip of a lifetime," she said, her tone softening. "Thank you, though. I do appreciate the offer. You don't have to give me money. That's not what this is. You don't have to buy me. Keep your money."

That made me feel better. People never turned me down when I offered them money. My family had been nagging me for it for years. Rylee was different, and I couldn't quite put my finger on why.

I refilled my champagne glass. "Do you have an itinerary?" I asked her.

"Kind of." She shrugged. "I don't want to plan every minute. I want to get there and just go with the flow."

"That sounds like a breath of fresh air," I said, genuinely inspired by her words. I had a schedule for every moment, every meeting, every event planned out months in advance. The idea of just letting things happen was foreign to me.

She smiled again and took another sip from her glass. "It's going to be good for me. A change in scenery."

She appeared lost in thought.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked curiously.

"I'm just thinking about how different our lives are," she confessed. "You have everything planned out, everything under control. And I'm just trying to find my feet."

I put down my champagne glass and shook my head. "Not really. I mean, yes, but it's not me that planned it all out. I have a team that plans everything. I even had someone choose my suit for the press conference today."

She put down her glass and got to her feet. She took my hand and silently led me back to the bed. I stood quietly while she pushed my pants down before quickly taking off my shirt. We climbed into bed together. She snuggled up against me.

"You can do whatever you want tonight," she whispered.

"You've given me exactly what I needed tonight," I said with a sigh. "I was so pent up and pissed about how everything went down I could barely think straight. Now I feel like I can take a step back and regroup."

I felt her stiffen beside me. I turned to see Rylee staring up at me.

"What?" I asked, confused.

She shook her head, her expression hardening. "Wow. I can't believe I'm so stupid."

I realized I'd done something wrong, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what it was. Everything had been going great. What had I said?

Rylee got out of bed. She was naked, sexy as hell, and pissed. She started getting dressed, jerking on her jeans and glaring at me.

"I should have listened to everyone who warned me about you. You are greedy. Do you know how much of an inconvenience this was for me? And here I naively thought…" She shook her head again. "Never mind."

"Wait, what?" I sat up, alarmed. "What are you talking about?"

She tugged her shirt over her head. "You don't get it, do you? You think you can just throw money at people and fix everything."

"That's not?—"

"Just stop," she interrupted, her voice tight with anger. "I didn't come here for your money. I came because I thought you needed me. But clearly, you just needed someone to stroke your ego."

I stared at her, stunned. "Rylee, that's not true. I?—"

"Save it," she snapped, grabbing her bag. "I'm done here."