Chapter 22：Mia

"You can really eat, can't you?" The deep timbre of his voice came my way. The tone hinted at humor, and I wondered if the billionaire found my fondness for food amusing.

Of course, I couldn't deny the fact that I loved food. Andy called me the "eating goddess" because of how much I could really put in, despite my slim, willowy frame.

I licked my spoon clean, savoring the warm, soft brownie and the cold, creamy ice cream in my mouth. I licked my lips, a smile on my face. When I glanced up, I saw James watching me intensely, as if he found my reaction fascinating. I, in turn, felt butterflies in my stomach.

I placed the spoon down onto the empty plate and said, "Thanks for dinner."

James cocked his head to one side and smiled. It was a very handsome expression that snatched away my breath.

"You're welcome," he said smoothly. "Shall we?"

I watched as he stood, pulling on his jacket.

I waited while he made the payment. When I heard the price, my jaw dropped. I reminded myself Mr. James Maxwell was a billionaire, so that amount was nothing to him.

When he turned, he grinned. Rather than feeling elated at my present circumstances, I was pissed.

James grabbed me by the elbow and led me out of the restaurant. Outside, the cool night air brushed against my heated skin. But it didn't last long as James proceeded to once again place his large hand about the nape of my neck. What was with him? I wasn't going to run away, for God's sake. He didn't need to keep such close tabs on me. After all, I had a brother to save.

I glared up at him to express my annoyance. He was ignoring me, of course. To make conversation, I asked, "How did Andy come to owe you two million?"

He raised a brow and then smiled again. "Do you want to know the details?"

He sounded amused. His words implied I shouldn't. Honestly, I had no idea how business, especially one as dark and as deep as this one, worked.

"How?" I persisted.

"Gambling," he said bluntly.

I frowned. "But Andy doesn't gamble. He doesn't even know how."

He laughed, which caused my body to tingle. I shivered a little in reaction.

He tightened his hold on me. "Are you cold?"

"No," I replied. "Andy doesn't gamble."

James sighed and raised his face to the sky, his eyes closed. "No, he doesn't. But his friends did."

I felt sick. Andy's friends. The friends he'd been talking about before he'd left Mystic Spring to come here?

"He's just a kid," I said.

"So are you." He chuckled, his eyes on me. I saw something akin to admiration in those Prussian irises that never ceased to fascinate me.

He was right, of course. Even though I was twenty-two, I was still a kid in James Maxwell's world. A toddler still trying to find my feet.

My mind changed to Andy, wondering how on earth he'd managed to get himself involved with those people. Such as it were, my mind drifted as James led me to his car. With the handsome man close to me, I started imagining all sorts of shady scenarios as to how my brother became involved with those business moguls, especially this Mr. James Maxwell.

Suddenly I felt James's hold on me tighten and his stance become tense, as if he sensed danger. My body stiffened with alertness, and I became nervous all of a sudden.

James pulled me along with him as he paced quickly to the car. I glanced up with concern. Even though I'd only met him today and knew hardly anything about him at all, I still understood basic human body language. And the expression I saw on James's face and the dark atmosphere I sensed around him scared the shit out of me. His features were firm and dark, and those eyes of his were flashing an intense fire of blue.

I wanted to ask him what was going on when I heard the screeching of rubber against asphalt. The noise was so horrendous that I jumped at the same time James tightened his hand on my neck. Instantly I felt myself being hauled forward. My body slammed against the rigidity of Maxwell, his arms tight around me, my face snuggled against his massive chest. His smell—pure maleness—engulfed me, as well as his warmth. I could feel the heat of his body radiating onto me, making me slightly dizzy and weak.

I blinked and stared at his chest as he led me farther from the sounds of the cars. I wanted to ask him again what was going on when the vehicles veered straight at us. I jolted in panic and clutched to James for dear life. The sounds of wheels against concrete was loud in my ears as they came to a complete stop before us.

James pulled me behind him, one hand holding tight about my arm. Somehow I was glad for this, and I had no idea why—why I found his presence and his warmth so reassuring. Why I felt safe.

The doors of the unwelcomed cars opened and out came men in black suits. They were the big, buff type that would scare the freaking daylights out of any innocent youth. They looked mean and ready to kill at a moment's notice. Were they someone's bodyguards?

I didn't have to wait long to find out. One of them came to open a door belonging to a sleek, fancy car right in front of us. Black shoes and trousers appeared first. Then when the face of the person emerged, I sucked in my breath.

Blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and aquiline features—this man was any girl's hero in her fantasy world. He exuded an aura of mystery, power, and, most of all, danger.

I felt myself shake a little as my eyes briefly met his. I gripped James's shirt as my whole body trembled with something akin to both fear and awe. He must have noticed because he returned the grip, which was encouraging.

The blond hunk paced toward us, his bodyguards expertly surrounding us, as if expecting some sort of fight.

"James," the hunky blond said smoothly.

"William." James returned the greeting coldly.

"How's your father doing?"

"Fine," James replied. "How about yours?"