The Terms Duet Page 5

  “I want a word with you.”

  Rolling her eyes, she climbs out of bed and pads toward me. Following me into the hallway, she pulls the door until it’s only cracked behind her.

  “What do you need?”

  “Why is he in your bed?”

  “He always sleeps with me.”

  “He’s three and needs to be sleeping in his own room. Do you want him to grow up weak, or would you like to see a strong, independent man?”

  “Jesus christ, Ellis. Look, I’ve never had an extra bedroom, so this is all he knows. I can’t toss him into this new environment and also expect him to sleep alone in a room he’s not familiar with. He’ll be terrified.”

  “Well, I’m going to want you alone with me soon at night, so he has to get comfortable in his own bed. I’m giving you three days to get him acclimated to his room.

  “I purchased monitors so you can see and listen to him, and the nanny will care for him when you’re with me.” I hold up three fingers. “You get three days, Camilla. I mean it.”

  She crosses her arms. “You’re a coldhearted ass.”

  “And you just earned a paddling to yours.” I turn to leave, but I recall two more things I wanted to speak to her about.

  “Oh, and don’t be confiding in Christopher about our personal business unless you want him fired. Lastly, you need to eat all of your meals. I don’t want you to become sick from lack of proper nourishment.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you’d hate for me to disrupt your twisted plans to torture me.”

  “For that comment you’re getting a taste of it tomorrow.”

  “But you said I had three days.”

  “We’ll fit it in.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Camilla

  “I want to hire Emma,” I say, sitting in a chair across from Ellis’s desk. “She’s young, so she can keep up with Liam, yet she’s educated, too, having graduated from college last year.” I don’t even think he’s listening to me as he stares at my chest. “She’s light and happy, and I think—”

  “Why are you wearing a different shirt?” he interjects.

  I glance down at the red sweater I changed into after the interviews.

  “I spilled coffee on my other one.”

  Tightening his hand around an ink pen atop his cherry desk, his eyes flit to a matching credenza on his right. I look to it and notice he’s eyeing a red abstract sculpture of a woman.

  “I’m hiring Beatrice,” he says curtly. “She’ll be stricter with Liam, which he obviously needs since you’re determined to baby him.”

  “You don’t know how I am with him; we’ve been here a whole twenty-four hours. Beatrice was stuffy and would have a difficult time relating to Liam. She couldn’t chase him around this enormous house, either.”

  With his elbows resting on the desk, Ellis palms his eyes.

  “You’re trying my patience.”

  Yes, he’s about to cave. I feel it.

  “Emma could tutor him, too. You said you wanted him to have a tutor until he goes to preschool next fall, so this way, you wouldn’t have to hire an additional person.”

  “Emma doesn’t speak any foreign languages.”

  I make a face, wondering what that has to do with anything.

  “How is that relevant?”

  “Liam is learning other languages.”

  “Well, how many do you speak?”

  “I can read eight and speak six. It’s a must with my job.”

  Crap, so much for working that angle.

  “Ellis, please let me make this decision. Mothers have an intuition, and my gut is telling me Emma is perfect for the job.”

  Dropping his hands, he stares at me. His eyes aren’t as vibrant today. Instead they’re a little bloodshot, and he appears tired, which I can relate to seeing how I was up for hours trying to keep Liam in his own bed.

  It was a futile attempt. He was determined to win, his cries gut-wrenching. After close to two hours of listening to him wail, I couldn’t take it any longer and brought him back to my bedroom.

  “I’ll think about it, but I need you to go now. I have an appointment.”

  “On a Saturday? Do you always work on the weekend?”

  “It’s not work related. Oh, and Irene is only here until one on Saturdays, and she’s off every Sunday, but I have her working all this weekend since you’re settling in.

  “She’ll help with Liam if needed, and she loves to cook, so she’ll fix you anything at any time.”

  “Thank you. I guess Liam and I will spend the day getting more acquainted with your home.”

  “It’s your home, as well, Camilla, and we’ll adjust sooner if you treat it as such. I want my nephew to feel he belongs here.”

  “And this mansion is not going to feel like home to me in a day, especially when I’ve been sentenced to jail.”

  “Oh, please, this is far from jail. Liam being a Burke means his life is forever changed. The opportunities and wealth he’s entitled to are endless, so I’m trying to give you somewhat of the same opportunity since you’re his mother.”

  I don’t have a reply. On one hand he seems like a generous man, but then I recall what Tony divulged about him, along with what Ellis expects from me in return for this luxurious life, and I’m conflicted. Standing, I cross my arms.

  “I do hope you’ll consider Emma for the job. It would mean a lot to me.”

  I leave his office to spend time with my son. Having been in more dangerous situations than this, I need to focus on the silver lining, which is the possibility of Liam having better opportunities in life and less struggles. That is, as long as Ellis isn’t the evil person I believe him to be.

  I find Liam in his room, where Christopher’s watching him.

  “Everything OK?” Chris asks.

  “Yes, it’s fine. I’m hoping Ellis will hire the nanny I want. He’s going to think about it.”

  “He better. You know what’s best for Liam. Ellis texted me to come see him, so I better go. Irene already fed Liam lunch. You should eat something, too, and check out the family room I showed you downstairs. There’s a flat-screen TV and a lot of movies Liam would like.”

  “OK. I appreciate all of your help. It’s comforting.”

  He pulls my forehead to him and kisses it.

  “I’ll do anything for you. You know that.”

  Unsure of how to respond, I simply smile and pick up Liam to go downstairs. Not having an appetite, I head right for the spacious family room.

  There’s an enormous entertainment center taking up the wall across from a brown leather sectional, so I open the doors to it and spot stacks of DVDs, especially children’s movies. I pull some from the shelf and bend down to show them to Liam.

  “Wanna watch a movie, kiddo? Pick one, and I’ll play it.” I already know the answer to this. One of the three DVDs I’m holding is a Ninja Turtles movie, so he’ll surely pick that one. He grins and points to it.

  “I Mikey.”

  “Yes, you’re Michelangelo.”

  Shooting his arms in the air, he says, “Cowabunga! I need chucks, Momma.” He’s serious now, certain that one of these days he’ll persuade me to buy them.

  “I think you’re still a little young for nunchucks. You’d whack yourself in the head. Let’s sit on the sofa and watch the movie.”

  As we lounge, I dwell on how this is the only place in the house that feels casual besides Liam’s bedroom.

  I can tuck my feet up beside me on the sofa, which gives me the sense of being at my home. It wasn’t much, but I paid the rent and decided whether to live there or not.

  I sigh from annoyance over the predicament we’re in. I prefer that Liam not watch much television, but I see us spending a lot of time in here as a reprieve from Ellis and this lavish environment.

  ***

  Close to two hours have passed when Christopher enters the room. Liam is napping on my lap, and the movie is off. I’ve been playing on my iPhone, wondering the who
le time if Ellis is monitoring every keystroke.

  “Hi, what’s up? I’ve heard a lot of commotion in the house,” I say.

  Blowing out a breath, he grabs the back of his neck.

  “You need to go to your room.”

  “Why?”

  “Ellis purchased a bunch of clothes for you and Liam. They were even delivered. I guess the man’s money gets him whatever the fuck he desires, including Saturday delivery—”

  “Shhh, watch your language, even if it appears he’s sleeping.” I glance down at Liam.

  “Sorry. I didn’t know how you’d like them organized, so Liam’s are on his bed, and yours are, well, everywhere in your room. There’s a lot.

  “I can’t lie; it pisses me off. You’ve never taken help from me, so it’s irritating that he gets to do this, and you have to accept it.”

  “I don’t have a choice, and I hate it. You, of all people, know I’m used to being independent.”

  “I’ll watch Liam while you’re upstairs. Then, I’m taking off for the day. I’ve had enough of Ellis Burke this week.”

  “I’m sorry. Thank you again for all your help.”

  Ellis

  My heels dig in the mat as I grapple to get Dean in a rear naked choke. His back’s to my chest as I shove my hips upward and crank down harder on his neck.

  He’s going to tap. I feel it. In seconds, he smacks my forearm three times fast like I knew he would.

  He wore me the hell out. We both sit up, breathing harshly, and it irritates me that this isn’t as easy as it was ten years ago, when I was twenty-four.

  “Damn, what the hell has you so fired up? You’re a bear today,” my trainer says before he lifts his t-shirt to wipe sweat from his face. He pats down his dark hair next.

  I can’t tell him there’s a woman in my house, wearing red, who has my head so fucked up that it leaves me wanting to fuck someone else up.

  I can’t ravish her the way I’d like to at the moment, so this has to be the next best thing to lessen my frustration.

  “I don’t want to talk about it today.” Peeling my shirt away from my skin, I toss it aside on the blue mat.

  “All right, then maybe we need to go out soon and discuss it instead of you trying to kill me.”

  “Can you not handle it? Are you calling yourself a pussy?”

  Yanking his soaked shirt off, he smacks me with it, and I laugh. My eyes meet the glass door of my gym, and I spot Camilla staring. She moves out of sight, so I spring to my feet and head for the door. Opening it, I see her scurrying away.

  “Stop. What do you need?”

  “I can talk to you about it later. I’m sorry I was watching.”

  “Turn around, Camilla.” She shifts to face me, and staring at the ground, she bites her lip. “Come inside. We were just finishing up.” Nodding, she follows me into the gym.

  “Dean, this is Camilla. Camilla, this is my friend, and jiujitsu trainer, Dean.”

  “Give me a second,” he says with a smile. He jogs over to his gym bag, and pulling out a clean shirt, he yanks it over his head and hurries back. He’s such a gentleman. Asshole. He sticks out his hand to shake Camilla’s. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” Camilla’s eyes look around the space that’s filled with typical gym equipment.

  “I’ll show you out,” I say to Dean, knowing he has questions. I glance to Camilla first. “Wait here.” Once Dean and I are in the hallway, he turns to me wearing a shit-eating grin.

  “I see what’s got you worked up now. She’s hot, man.”

  “Yeah, and she’s living here, too.”

  His eyes bulge. “What the fuck? I didn’t even know you were dating someone.”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “That I’m dying to hear. Just message me, and we’ll grab dinner next week.” He holds his hand up to grip mine, and we swat each other’s back as a farewell. “I can let myself out. It seems you have something more exciting to attend to.”

  “Thanks for the workout.” Dean leaves, and I stroll back in the gym to face the woman in red. I don’t need another one occupying my head at night.

  Camilla

  The room smells of sweat and Ellis. It would probably seem pungent to most, but his manly scent of lemongrass and earth is overpowering the space.

  It’s like that first aroma of spring, igniting the senses, where we have a renewed hope of possibilities for the year after a hibernating winter.

  And I must say, the possibilities of what could happen between Ellis and me this spring seem endless.

  “I hope you didn’t stop because of me.”

  “We were finished. I train with him every Saturday if time allows it.”

  “It was impressive, and there have been a few times in my life when moves like that would’ve come in handy.”

  His brow cinches. “What did you need?”

  “I wanted to thank you for the clothing and accessories. I could combine all the purses and pairs of shoes I’ve owned in my life, and they wouldn’t add up to the number now in my walk-in closet.

  “And evening gowns… I can’t imagine what I need those for. You should know I’m simple. It doesn’t take much to make me happy.”

  “Who said I’m trying to make you happy?”

  “That’s not what I meant. I mean–forget it, I’ll go.” I turn to leave, but he grabs me and brings me close.

  His slick arm brushes along mine, and I shudder as his sweaty body moves closer. Fuck, I imagine him being the baby oil to my bare skin. He’s too much man for me.

  “You’re welcome,” he utters, “and now I’m going to kiss you for not being after my money like every other damn woman I’ve dated.”

  “Who said I’m trying to date you?” I chime, smirking.

  “Clever.”

  I shrug. “You had it coming.” A foot sweeps my leg, knocking mine out from under me. Holding my back and head, Ellis takes me straight to the mat next to us.

  He’s on top of me as I stare up wide-eyed, heaving for a breath. “How did that not hurt me?”

  He smirks, and I have the urge to press my thumb to his sexy dimpled chin.

  “I know what I’m doing, that’s how. Now, shut up, clever woman.” His lips slam to mine, and his tongue forces its way inside.

  This kiss is Patrón on the rocks, rimmed with the thickest salt. His tongue’s the lime, and in a hot second, I’m drunk from arousal, wishing I were naked so I could feel his slick-with-sweat body slide over mine.

  Reveling in the salt and heat and sweat and muscle, I moan into the devil’s pit of flames. A mouth so hot and tempting.

  My body wants to fornicate, whereas my mind recites Corinthians, verse something or other, about temptation, but holy shit, this is too hot to obey the Bible.

  Dragging my nails down his back, I open my legs for him. He shoves between them, and his iron-hard cock presses through his thin workout pants. It’s aligned with my pussy, and my jeans cause an ache as they rub against my flesh.

  He growls inside my mouth before he pulls away.

  NO, come back. I choose fornication.

  “We can’t do this here.” He nods his head to the side. “The see-through door. Damn, with you around, it’s hard to remember there’s a kid here, too.”

  He climbs off of me and reaches out his hand to help me up. I’m lightheaded, still intoxicated from his drugging kiss. “I need a shower. I’m counting the nights, my Rose. Counting. Them. Down.”

  Swiping his shirt off the floor, he struts to the door, his back still glistening, and I’m left behind in his wake of pheromones.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Ellis

  I stride to the kitchen Sunday morning and only find Irene cooking. The house is too quiet.

  “Where is Camilla and Liam?”

  “They haven’t come down yet, sir.”

  I glance at my watch. It’s 9:30 a.m., and I don’t know much about children, but I was certain they woke up early. I paid Irene to be h
ere today so she could serve Camilla and Liam meals, yet they’re not even down for breakfast.

  “I’ll go find them.”

  Liam is not in his bed when I crack open his door, so I roll my eyes. Not this shit again. Irritated, I march to Camilla’s room, and after tapping on the door, I open it. She shoots up in bed, much like the first day she was here, and looks at her alarm clock.

  “Can you please wait for me to answer next time instead of barging in my room?”

  “I told you how I felt about Liam sleeping in here.”

  “Did you not hear him last night? He cried and yelled for hours. He finally fell asleep at midnight, but he woke up again at two this morning and threw another fit. I didn’t know what else to do, so I had to bring him in here to get some rest.”

  With a long yawn, Liam sits up in bed, and his hair is in total disarray, poking out everywhere. I begin to smile but quickly recover my scowl.

  “After thirty minutes of his wailing, I put in earplugs.”

  Her head cocks to the side in a fuck-you manner.

  “How lucky for you. What did you want?”

  “I’m paying Irene to be here today for the two of you, so could you please come downstairs so she can serve breakfast? I saw her making pancakes. They’re the best.”

  Liam claps. “I want pancakes, Momma.”

  “Why does he call you that? Why not mother or even mom?”

  “How many times do I have to remind you he’s three? And I’m sure your investigative skills disclosed I’m from the south. Did you honestly call your mom mother at three years old?”

  “I believe so. I was taught to call her mother.”

  Camilla grips her hip. “Well, that’s sad to me.”

  I huff. “Just come downstairs. We’ll eat together in the dining room.”

  Camilla

  Breakfast is as awkward as I suspected it would be. Ellis squirms each time Liam slings syrup or drips it down the front of his own shirt.

  While nibbling on his bacon, my curious kid stares Ellis down, and I have to get us out of this uncomfortable situation. The silence might as well be nails on a chalkboard.