Chapter 16
After finishing the pool, I dove into planning.
I’ve been setting up parties all my life, but I’ve never arranged a romantic evening.
With women coming out of the woodwork, wooing a potential partner has never been necessary.
There hasn’t been anyone worth it until now, but it seems I finally have my work cut out for me with Mila.
Work I will gladly do, by any means necessary.
It’s quiet since the majority of the men are off today, making it the perfect time for a romantic evening with the boss.
I know she wouldn’t let her guard down with too many eyes on her.
It’s going to be hard to get her to let loose with even the bare bones crew around.
Luckily, Misha agreed to help me keep anyone away from the pool area.
The groundskeeper maintains the estate, so the baseline ambiance is already nice. A few LED lights placed around the pool to set the mood are all I added. The real work was figuring out exactly how to convince her to give me a real chance.
That is, if I can ever summon the guts to approach her. She said she would see you later…stop being a pussy and go see if she wants to have dinner. I’ve been standing outside her study for entirely too long, lifting and lowering my hand like an idiot, when the door flies open.
“Thatcher? Are you going to stand out there all evening?”
I’m at a loss for words as I take Mila in. She’s always beautiful, but I’ve never seen her dressed so casually. Black leggings and a black cotton shirt replace her normal tactical attire, and she looks so domestic. So normal. Except Mila is anything but normal, and the juxtaposition blows my mind.
“Um. No, Ma’am. I, um—”
She crosses her arms, sighing. “Is there something you need, or are you haunting my door for the sole purpose of tormenting me?”
Summoning all of my bravery, I state my case. “I came to collect on your promise of seeing me later.”
“Thatche—”
“Eh, no takesies backsies! Besides, it’s just dinner. You have to eat, I have to eat, so we might as well do it together.”
“Fine.” She doesn’t sound enthusiastic and rolls her eyes when I try to offer her my arm. But she isn’t scowling as we make our way through the labyrinthine halls of the mansion. At least, until she realizes we’ve taken a turn she didn’t expect.
“This isn’t the way to the dining room.”
Instinctively, I move to place my hand on her back, but stop when she stiffens and instead reach around to open the door that leads outside to the pool.
“No, but it is the way to our dinner.”
She raises a brow at me but doesn’t protest, taking the lead to the buffet of food set up under the pool gazebo. I follow, trying and failing not to ogle her incredible ass. Her years of training have had quite the effect on her physique, and I’m only a man after all.
“What is all this? Is something wrong with the dining room?”
“No, I…I just thought it would be nice to have a change of scenery, and today’s weather is perfect for an evening picnic.”
Mila examines the smorgasbord I had the chef prepare. “You didn’t make this, did you?”
“Oh, no, I—”
“Very well. I suppose this is fine.” Her plate is loaded quickly, and I’ll have to thank the chef for being so confident in choosing Mila’s favorites.
By the time I’ve made my selections and joined her at the table, she’s already dug in, and I can’t help but stare. I’ve never been around women who eat anything more than a few pieces of lettuce, so it’s refreshing to see her eat to fuel herself.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” She catches me staring and glances down to see if she’s dropped food onto her shirt before wiping her mouth with her napkin. “Is something on my face?”
I smile and shake my head, finally taking a bite from my own plate but barely tasting it. “You’re astounding.”
And she is. She rolls her eyes as she continues, and I follow each bite from her plate to her mouth.
Despite her harsh exterior, she’s graceful, her etiquette as flawless as any old-money New Yorker I’ve known.
It’s just another reminder of the mystery behind this woman.
My hunger grows, and it’s not for anything the chef prepared.
Like magic, she finishes just as one of her favorite songs begins to play. I have to remember to thank Misha for the remote for the stereo and for telling me a few of her favorites. Rarely does a genuine smile cross her face, but when it does…wow.
Standing, I reach for her, hoping that despite my massive, crushing vulnerability at this moment, she’ll accept. “Shall we?”
“Shall we what?”
“Dance of course,” I say, hand still extended.
“This isn’t a song to dance to.”
“Any song is a song to dance to if you try hard enough.”
She sighs as she begrudgingly takes my hand. “Fine, I’ll dance. One song. Then I’m going back to my office to work. And keep your hands to yourself.”
If one dance is all I have, I’m going to make it the most amazing one she’s ever had. Knowing Mila, it might be the only one she’s ever had.
“How are we supposed to dance together if I can’t touch you?”
She grabs my hands, placing one on her shoulder and one on her upper back. “Light touches only. And don’t move them.”
“Yes, Ma’am. But just so you know, you can touch me anywhere.” I wink.
The song really isn’t one to dance to; she was right about that. It’s upbeat enough not to be romantic, but not so energetic that you can party it out, leaving only the middle awkward fun moves. Surprisingly, Mila follows as I sway us back and forth, catching on to the rhythm quickly.
I get a single chuckle from her when I start doing the disco. “You’re a very silly man, Thatcher Prescott.”
“Of course, life’s not worth living if you never have any fun!”
“Life isn’t just about fun. Say that to the people who have had to fight tooth and nail to be here today.”
I place my hands back where she gave me permission to touch her, holding her a bit tighter than before. “What kind of life are they fighting for if they don’t intend to enjoy it?”
“It’s not always about serving yourself. Sometimes you have to fight so that others can live.”
“And what do you think they would do if they didn’t have to fight? What would they do for fun if they could?” I ask, rubbing my thumb up and down with such a light brush, I’m almost unsure if I’m dreaming of the warmth of her skin.
“I don’t know. Everything I do has a purpose, including my leisure. My time is all calculated. I can’t recall a time I’ve done something nonsensical.”
“Do it now! Jump in the pool.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. I have my clothes on and—”
“So? I’ll do it too, with our clothes on and everything. It’s nonsensical. You shouldn’t have zero memories of doing something just because. Please? Jump in with me.”
She looks between the water and me several times before letting out a defeated, “Okay, let’s do it.”
“Hell, yeah! Alright, um. Take my hand?” She reluctantly does as I ask and follows my lead to the deep end of the pool. “Alright on three. One. Two.”
I swear she yelps when I pull her close to me and jump one count early. Keeping her in my arms, I swim up to the surface, reveling in the feel of her body against mine.
The second her head pops out of the water, she’s cursing me between coughs. “You…motherfucking…You said on three. I wasn’t ready, you asshole. Water. In my nose. Wait, where are you taking me?”
I can’t help but laugh as I pull her over to the shallow waters. “If you’re going to kill me, I’d like for it to be on my own two feet.”
I stop when I can stand with my shoulders above water and turn to face her, and fuck, I wasn’t prepared for the vision before me.
The sun has finally set, but the lights surrounding the pool reflect off her glistening skin, brighter than any star.
Her long black hair has fallen free from her braid, framing her face perfectly as the water drips down her cheeks to her chest. She’s still wrapped in my arms, and I’m careful not to let my touch linger anywhere unwelcome even though I want to so badly.
“I’m not going to kill you,” she whispers, and her warm breath against my skin sends chills through my body.
“What are you going to do to me, then?” I ask, leaning forward so that our lips are only a hair’s width apart.
Respecting her desire not to be touched, I don’t dare go any further…I do dare to hope that she’ll bridge the gap between us and kiss me. Instead, she pulls back and searches my eyes.
“What is it?”
“You want to be my good boy?”