You Have To Be Mine(The Possessive Billionaires Book 1)(7)

By: Heather C. Adams


She felt so much better after the warm water cleansed her, stepping out grabbing a towel from the counter. After making her way back to the bag left for her on the chair, she threw on some soft cotton shorts and a t-shirt. There was no toothbrush, but there was a bottle of Listerine on the counter, and she swished some. She threw her fingers through her tousled wet hair and slipped out of the bedroom to the hallway. Coffee. She needed coffee to drown out the grogginess still plaguing her from last night. If she was lucky, Mr. Devonshire went to work, and she'd have coffee in peace. Running home entered her mind again, but then she remembered what he said. If she wanted to keep her job, she had to take the week off and rest…at his house. She was hoping to get that part amended.

She exited the room and headed down the stairs. She roamed around, passing a dining room with an exquisite table, a living room with sky-high ceilings and decorated immaculately, and finally found the luxurious kitchen. The entire area was decorated in black and white and had every convenience imaginable.

Next to the large shiny sink was something she definitely recognized. It was a beautiful Keurig.

"Coffee," she rushed over with hands outstretched until she finally touched the royal piece of equipment. She was so happy she could have hugged the contraption; however, she couldn't see a coffee pod in sight. Cabinets lined down the long kitchen, and she had no idea which one held the coffee cups. A chuckle escaped her lips and made them ripple.

“Better start here.” She opened the cabinet in front of her and saw piles and piles of beautiful cream-colored glass plates, on to the next. She made it through about ten doors to no avail.

“Ok, the bottom?”

She bent over to start looking through the lower set of cabinets.

“Does the man drink coffee from sippy cups or something?” She said, irritated.

“No, I prefer large glass mugs, actually."

The baritone, dominant voice trailed in from behind her making her jump.

One hand grabbed her chest, and the other landed over her mouth. "Oh I, um, I-"

“Looking for coffee?” He continued his stride towards the kitchen, making his blue jeans work to stay put as they hugged every muscle in his thick thighs. His dark green polo stretched taut over his chest and oversized biceps. His loose curls were tamed and slicked back, showcasing his angular face. She wasn’t used to seeing him in anything other than suits for work, and it made her slit warm.

Down girl.

“Um, yes. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I didn’t want to wake you.” She was fidgeting nervously, trying to move out of the way.

“Nonsense. You’re not intruding. Make yourself at home.” The words coming from his mouth sounded so endearing, but the look on his face didn’t match.

“How are you feeling?” He propped on the edge of the island, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl and sinking his teeth into it. His dark, inquisitive eyes sunk into every inch of her body. They moved up and down, examining her, making her flush.

She tugged her shirt down over her cotton shorts nervously, “oh, fine. I didn’t think anyone else was home, or I would have dressed…better.”

He sucked his bottom lip, chucked the apple in the trash, and moved to the coffee pot.

“No need, like I said, make yourself at home.”

“Mr. Devonshire-“

“Casey, please.” He pulled two coffee cups out of the large drawer directly under where the Keurig sat and placed them on the counter, causing her to roll her eyes at herself veraciously.

The drawer, really?

“Casey…what am I doing here? I could be at my own place recovering.”

Though if you tell me to stay and go straight up to your bed I will.

“No, you can’t.”

“When can I go to my house then?” She’d play by his rules if she had to.

He took a deep breath in as he plopped a pod in the coffee maker and a mug in the slot, "Not today, not tomorrow, honestly, I don't know when."

“What do you mean?” Her forehead wrinkled in confusion, and she tilted her head, begging for more answers.

“Your apartment was ransacked when Curtis arrived yesterday to get some of your things.”

Her heart bottomed out beneath her feet as waves of lightning flew through her veins. This couldn’t be true. Was this some sort of ploy to get her to stay? He didn’t need to trick her, though she couldn’t tell him that. She searched for his eyes that seemed to be roaming the room in thoughts. Finally, his luminous gaze met hers with a touch of sympathy, “I talked to the cops. They haven’t found the guy yet.”