Free Priceless: Contemporary Billionaire Romance Novel by Aria Hawthorne

strewn across the floor and entangled with her own disheveled sweater,
skirt, and tights.  Maribel fell back under her obnoxious rosebud sheets and
heaved a sigh of relief.  Her night with him wasn’t just a faded fantasy; it
was a reality.  And it wasn’t just a one-night stand; he hadn’t left without
saying goodbye.  He was still there, and still willing to at least spend the morning
with her.
    The
shower , she thought, noting the sound of spraying water. 
    Maribel
quickly dressed.  Normally, she would throw on her favorite flannel pajama
pants, vintage Madonna T-shirt, and hooded sweat shirt.  But that was when she
was alone, not when she was with a strong, sophisticated man with whom she had
just had the most amazing sex of her life.  Maribel scrounged through her
closet for her yoga pants and leotard spandex top.  Bra?  No bra?  Bra?  No
bra?   She wasn’t sure…
    “Hello
out there…?” His masculine voice boomed off her shower tiles. “Is that Cupid’s
little helper?”
    “Maybe? 
Who wants to know?” she slipped open the bathroom door and called back over the
rushing water.
    Miles
peered out from above the shower curtain rod.  Maribel saw his wet black hair
and sparkling blue eyes.  “Someone who wants to be hit with another arrow,” he
said, mischievously.
    She
rolled her eyes.  He chuckled and turned back into the steamy shower.  “I made
us some coffee.”
    Maribel
moved into the kitchen and checked the wafting coffee pot.  He had forgotten to
add in the water as well as a fresh filter with fresh grounds.  Clearly, it had
been awhile since Miles had made his own coffee.  Maribel dumped out everything
and lay in a new filter with fresh grounds, then poured in two cups of water
and started up the machine.  Next, she considered breakfast.  She popped two
pieces of bread into her toaster and set out a fresh stick of butter onto a
plate.  She searched her refrigerator for something other than eggs, but came
up empty.  It had been days since she had had a chance to go grocery shopping.   Scrambled
eggs and oatmeal cookies , she considered, wondering how much longer Miles
would be in the shower.
    “ Roxanne ,”
he suddenly belted out, “ You don’t have to put on the red light / Those
days are over / You don’t have to sell your body to the night .”
    Maribel
smiled.  At least for a few more refrains.
    Suddenly,
she heard Miles’ phone ringing with a low muffled chime, and it took her
several seconds to realize that it was still in her purse, where she had forced
him to deposit it the previous afternoon. 
    “Miles,
your phone’s ringing,” she called to him.
    “ Roxanne …”
he sang out,  “ You don’t have to wear that dress tonight / Walk the
streets for money / You don’t care if it’s wrong or right .”
    Maribel
smiled.  He either didn’t hear her or he didn’t care because he was enjoying
his alternate reality in which he was truly Sting, the lead singer of the
Police.  She rushed to her purse and fumbled to secure his phone, planning to
bring the phone to him.  Abruptly, she heard the sharp raspy voice of another
woman, questioning her on the other end. “Brax?  Brax?”
    Accidentally,
Maribel had touched its screen and answered the call.  Maribel fretted and
considered hanging up until she heard the woman’s demanding voice: “Are you
fucking kidding me, Brax? You don’t even have the balls to say ‘hello’?”
    Maribel
answered with an official air. “Receiving calls for Mr. Miles Braxton-Worth,
how may I assist you?”
    It
worked.  The woman fell silent, then hostile.  “Oh, precious… he has a personal
assistant answering his business calls, does he?  Well, you tell Mr. Miles Braxton-Worth
that Ms. Gillian Cartwright needs to speak with him today about our multi-million
dollar deal, or else my clients are going to sign a deal with his competition
at the Amory Building.  Did you get all that, cupcake?”
    The
woman said ‘cupcake’