Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Zel’s mouth immediately plummets to the table.
“I was almost late for dinner,” my casual admission is followed by me gesturing towards the two bottles on the table. “Champagne or wine?”
She stutters, and I struggle not to smugly smile.
“Would you prefer something else? Perhaps a cocktail?”
“Why?”
“Because you did not seem interested in the first two choices I offered.”
“No, not that,” her head whips around in a frenzy. “Why…why did you do all that?! The school stuff and my brother…ohmygod, what was he even in for?!”
“Allegedly petty theft.” My eyes lock onto hers. “However, due to reasons that do not need to be mentioned, the charges were dropped. Completely dismissed. And your brother is, once again, a free – so to speak – man.” I reach for the bottle of champagne. “You are welcome to see him as well as your mother whenever you like. There is a car that will take you wherever you want to go when you want to go. It doesn’t matter if it’s shopping, the movies, or the spa, the driver on duty is under strict orders to fulfill your request, and the car service will be the travel arrangement you use for getting you to and from class when the time arrives. Contrary to your belief, you’re not a prisoner here, Zel.” At the same time I pop the cork, I add, “You’re more like a princess.”
Something passes across Zel’s gaze. I just covered all the bases. As a businessman, damn right I know my competitors' desires, deepest wishes. What makes them tick.
Respond without consequences.
Zel is unlike any other person I’ve came across, doll or otherwise. Her complexity intrigues me and reminds me of the unease I felt after trimming her hair.
She’s not like the others.
Not just a doll.
Zel requires training, I tell myself.
It seems like ages have passed, when she finally gasps. “You can’t…you can’t just…buy me off and think that makes everything alright.”
“I didn’t buy you off.” The pouring action is momentarily paused. “Part of the arrangement of you being here…of you being with me for the next few months was to take care of you. This is me taking care of you. I told your father and I told you, you would want for nothing. I am a man of my word.” I carefully begin to fill my glass. “Period.” When I’ve finished handling my own drink, I tilt the bottle towards her. “Champagne?”
Zel bashfully nods.
It’s impossible to ignore the relief I feel to have some of her acceptance again.
“Why do you wanna take care of me so bad, Elias?”
“I like when you say my name almost as much as I like to hear you call me sir.”
Heat floods her cheeks as she tucks her bottom lip behind her teeth.
“Caring for you is part of the doll agreement.” Bubbles begin to occupy her glass, and I keep my stare planted there, not wanting to overflow it. “And while you are mine, you are not to worry. I simply handled the things that cause you stress. You’ve spent most of your life caring for other people and now, for once, someone is going to properly care for you.” After the now lighter bottle is placed back on ice, I meet her gaze again. “Allow you to let your hair down metaphorically and physically,” my hand motions towards the pinned updo, “speaking.”
Zel tilts her head to one side in a sweet, flirty fashion. “You want me to take out all the pins, don’t you?”
“It would be…appreciated,” I swipe my glass into my possession, “however, it is not a requirement at this time, little doll.”
“Would it please you, sir?”
The chosen word choice and watching her lips form them causes my cock to lengthen once more. “It would.”
Zel casually lifts a hand and removes a bobby pin.
And then another.
And then another.
Watching them hit the table has my heart happily pounding away in my chest, and seeing her grin during the process soothes the portion of my soul I scorched earlier when cutting the delicate strands she’s freeing.
“Elias,” she practically purrs, prompting me to consider having her for dinner instead of what’s actually on the menu, “can I ask you something?”
I acknowledge the initial question with a hum of encouragement.
“How did Dad even get in contact with you to request the kind of money he borrowed?”
An additional sip is had before responding. “You know your father is quite a manipulative man.”
Her grunt of irritation receives a small smirk.
“As it turns out, he’s also a bit more technologically savvy than he lets on. Getting himself onto my personal schedule was a feat that I rewarded by taking the meeting. And witnessing a man risk it all to simply make a desperate plea for help to save his dying wife was a remarkable act that couldn’t go ignored, much like a shy, young woman signing herself away in a similar move of desperation to save her father.”