THE BILLIONAIRE'S LOVER

4 | IN WHICH SHE SIGNED THE CONTRACT.

The sound of her ringtone woke Malora before her alarm went off.

Groaning, she reached for the device from its spot on her bedside table and squinted at its screen.

It was a number she did not recognize.

'Hello,' she croaked.

'Miss McCarran?' a man's voice enquired. His voice was extremely efficient and professional. And very much awake.

'Yes.'

'Justice Blake, Mr. Pitts' personal assistant, here. Is this a good time for you to talk?'

'Yes. Yes, of course.' Malora jerked upright and took a gulp of water from a bottle by her bedside.

'Mr. Pitts has asked me to make some appointments for you today. May I run through them with you now?'

'What kind of appointments?'

'Henry Valentine, Mr. Pitts' driver, will be around your flat at ten forty-five. Your first stop will be your doctor where you have an appointment to see the nurse.'

'How do you know who my doctor is?'

There was a pause. It was pregnant with possibilities, perhaps even explanations.

'It doesn't matter,' Malora said quickly.

As if he had not been interrupted, the man continued, 'She will discuss various contraceptive options with you if you are not already on some form of birth control. Next, you have a meeting with Mr. Pitts' lawyer. Once you have concluded your business there, Henry has instructions to take you to the apartment in One Hyde Park where I will meet with show you around. It would be advisable to eat lightly as Mr. Barrington gets into London late evening, and he wishes to take you out for supper about eight p.m. He tends to be very punctual so do be ready by eight thirty. Do you have any particular dietary needs or preferences?'

'No.'

'If you do come up with any question requests before and after we meet call me on this number. I will be happy to assist.'

'OK. Thanks, Mr. Blake.'

'Have a nice day, Miss McCarran.'

Malora glanced at her alarm clock. She must have been more tired than she had realized. It was already nine thirty even though it was another gray day outside. She held her tender head in her hands. A couple more paracetamols should do the trick.  

Malora sat up, swallowed them down and lying back on the bed closed her eyes and remembered last night. The details were fuzzy. Only the kiss remained crystal clear. She remembered his eyes—how unaffected he was. If not for that pulse drumming madly in his throat Malora would have thought he had felt nothing.

Eventually, she could no longer put off meeting her sister so she dragged herself out of bed and padded to their shared bathroom. The tiles were sickly green and one or two were cracked, but everything was sparkling clean.

The orange dress was badly crumpled.

Malora took it off and carefully hand washed it in the sink. After wringing it out, she hung it inside the bath, and got in it herself. Malora turned on the shower head, and held the warm stream over her body.

When she came out, Malora felt like a new person. Quickly, she slipped into clean underwear and dressed in jeans and a blue shirt. Then she combed her hair, tied it into a ponytail high on her head.

Taking a deep breath, Malora ventured out of the safety of her room to face her sister. Lorena was sitting on the rocking chair by the front window, gazing out into the street. Baby Louis rested in the crook of her arms, sleeping. A beanie covered his shaved head, and his skin had a sickly gray pallor to it.