Fairytale Come Alive (Ghosts and Reincarnation #4)(126)

“Now, I’ll say it one last time before we call the police. It’s late. We’ve got less than a week to pack Elle’s things before we go home. We need to get back to bed. Please leave.”

Carver’s eyes shot daggers at him. Prentice simply returned his furious stare.

Carver broke contact and his gaze took in his daughter, top-to-toe, before he returned it to Prentice.

“You’ll regret it,” Carver warned in a low voice.

“That’s doubtful,” Prentice returned.

“I regretted it, marrying her mother,” Carver went on, Elle gasped and Prentice pulled her more tightly against his side.

“The feeling, Carver, was obviously, and sadly, mutual,” Prentice replied softly and then, his voice firm, his intent unmistakable, he finished, “Now, we’re done.”

The bastard gave them both a scathing look before he stalked, back ramrod straight, out of the room.

Prentice followed him and locked the door behind him.

When he turned, Elle was standing in the foyer.

“You just turned down fifty-four million dollars,” she whispered, her eyes wide and when she finished speaking her lips stayed parted.

“Aye,” Prentice agreed, moved forward the two steps that separated them, kissed her forehead then walked around her to the living room.

He switched out the light and when he turned to the door, Elle was standing in its frame.

“You should know,” she said quietly, “I can’t get to that trust unless it’s to make an investment that’s agreed by a small board made up of executives at my mother’s family’s bank or if it’s an emergency. I live off the interest.”

He walked to her, sliding an arm around her waist and leading her into the foyer so he could switch off the light.

“When you sell this apartment, the money will go back into the trust?” Prentice asked.

“Yes.”

“And if you don’t use the interest, it reverts to the trust?” Prentice went on, having turned off the light, he was guiding her through the boxes.

“Yes.”

“Then you better start looking into charities you want to patronize, baby. I don’t think you’ll have a lot of use for your millions in the wilds of Scotland,” Prentice advised.

He heard her pull in a soft breath but she didn’t respond.

He stopped her by the bed and found the tie on her robe.

“Where’s Evangelista’s money?” he asked softly, yanking on the tie before he lifted his hands and slid the robe from her shoulders.

“I used all of it to build and endow two orphanages, one in Vietnam and the other in Ethiopia,” she whispered.

His hands had stilled in the act of closing around her waist to pull her with him into bed.

His voice was gruff when he stated, “I don’t think I heard about that.”

“You wouldn’t,” she said softly. “No one knows but Dad. I did it anonymously.”

Christ, but he loved her.

One arm slid around her waist, the other hand went to her neck and he fell back to the bed, taking her with him,

Her weight landed on him and he rolled instantly, covering her soft body with his.

“I’m no’ sure what you expect, Elle,” he said against her neck. “But we should get something straight.”

Her hands were gliding around to his back but her touch was tentative.

“What?” she asked, her tone just as tentative.

His head came up, he looked at her in the dark and answered, “When I told you I would take care of you, that’s what I meant.” His hand drifted up to her jaw, his thumb moving across her cheekbone and his voice went soft when he continued, “You live in my house, I pay for the food that goes in your belly, I buy your drinks at the pub, I fill your car with petrol, I put clothes on your back –”

“Pren –” she whispered.

“I’m no’ telling you what to do,” he informed her. “You want to work, make your own money, contribute something to the household, do it. You don’t want to work and you want something, it’s your money, get it. You want to do something special for the kids, though, we talk about it first. I don’t want them spoiled.” His hand tensed on her jaw and he asked, “Are we agreed?”

“What if I want to do something special for you?” she whispered, her arms were wrapped around him now and they weren’t tentative, they were holding on tight.

His mouth found hers in the dark and he kissed her softly before his lips glided to her jaw then to her ear.

“In about five minutes, baby, you’re going to do something special for me,” he murmured there.

“What’s that?” she breathed, her hands had started roaming whisper-soft against the skin of his back and he felt his c**k start to grow hard at her touch.

He didn’t answer her question.

Instead, he slid his lips and his tongue down her neck and along her collarbone.

At the base of her throat, he stated, “Outside of you baking your oatmeal cookies every once in awhile, anything special I want from you will have the same theme.”

Her fingers slid into his hair, her other hand moved around his waist, across his stomach and down.

When she pressed her hand into his pajamas and wrapped her fingers tight around his cock, his mouth found hers and he muttered, “You guessed it.”