THE BILLIONAIRE'S LOVER

24 | IN WHICH SHE LIVES LAVISHLY

Titan was elusive after that.

Busy, she guessed? At any rate, it turned out guests weren't a problem, as long as she gave Blake enough notice to clear it with security and update Titan's diary so he knew she wasn't available.

Mika called earlier to say she was in town—had been in town, actually—for a few days, because of the birthday party Lloyd had invited her to. Malora was supposed to attend the party, too. Oh, well. . .

As far as she could remember, Mika had always been a head taller than Malora and her skin was a bit darker than Malora's too. Unlike Malora's hair, Mika's was darker and shorter.

Mikayla Calhoun was sexy as sin. Her hourglass figure made head turn, and her slender frame would have landed her a gig in modelling had she ever shown interest in it. But Mika would rather travel around the world than work under slave drivers, her word, not Malora's.

She was actually super excited to see  Mika. And Malora thought Mika was happy to see her—although it was slightly overshadowed by her reaction to the apartment.

'Holy fuckballs,' she said, her bag slipping off her shoulder and thumping onto the floor. 'When you said to meet you at Hyde Park, I assumed you were just using it as a landmark and we'd be off to some scuzzy bedsit you were in Peckham.'

'Yeah, I'm just crashing here while my crack den is being repainted.'

Mika turned dazedly, her dark eyes skidding over glass and silk and marble, much as hers had done when she'd first arrived. As, to be fair, they still did because Malora wasn't sure how you ever got used to a place like this. 'Seriously, Mal. How can you afford it?'

It was an entirely reasonable question. 'I'm housesitting, I guess?'

'For who? Mohamed Al-Fayed?'

'Um'—crunch time—'Titan Pitts.'

Malora was being gaped at. She shuffled her feet. 'Do you want to maybe not stand in the hall?' She asked. 'There's a sitting area. And a receiving area.'

'Sure. Why the hell not. Receive me.'

Malora didn't, in the end, receive her. The sitting area was cozier—cozier, that is, by the standards of the apartment. Meaning it looked basically like a magazine except the pearl-gray sofa was only very large as opposed to inconceivably vast. You could have fit all her friends and family into the  receiving area with room to spare. Here they would have had to squish up.

'Let me get this straight.' Malora sank onto a chair. 'Your. . .friend. . .Titan Pitts—the same one that paid you to sleep with him for three months. . .Is letting you stay in his home?'

Malora curled up in the corner bit of the sofa. Sofas with corner bits were the best sofas and this one, being an elegant U-shape, had two. 'It's not his home. It's just one of his houses. He was very clear about that.'

'Right. But he's just letting you stay here?'

'Only for three months.'

'It's not the duration that's confusing me here.'

'Is it really so weird that Titan Pitts would offer his multimillion-pound luxury— Okay, yes, it's weird. The truth is, I have to stay here until our deal is up.'

'Holy shit.'

'Yeah.' Squirm. 'And while that's happening, this is where I'm living.' Squirm. 'I know it makes me look like a kept prostitute.'

Mika stared at her. 'Are you kidding me? I think it's awesome. Look at this stuff.'

'Isn't it neat?' Malora mustered a limp smile.