Chapter 32：Mia

"Where are we going?" I felt the need to ask again as I stared at his large hand wrapped firmly around mine.

I had no idea why I found this man's hands so fascinating, why I suddenly felt this overwhelming need to be touched and caressed by them. Why my core suddenly twisted and burned with desire so deep I felt weak. Only moments before, I was scared and my body became rigid when he kissed me, but now? Because of James's gentle and warm touches? I blamed my body.

"Shopping," he responded.

"Now?" I couldn't help myself.

It wasn't the fact that I didn't like shopping. Heck, I'd like to shop until I dropped. There were heaps of clothing I'd like to try on and buy. But shopping was usually done with girlfriends, which I didn't have, and doing this sort of fun stuff with James just didn't seem right. There was also the fact that I didn't have any money.

I pulled my wrist free from his clutch and stood there in the middle of the living room, watching him. He turned his gaze to me and cocked his head to one side.

"You don't want to go shopping?" he asked.

I licked my lips. "I… Not really," I said. "I'd rather stay here and…" I gazed at him through my lashes.

I'll admit I was a timid creature at times. It was my way to get people to understand me, to tell him what I wanted. It was a habit. I guess it was a way of saying, Please be nice to me. It had worked effectively in the past, and I was sure it would work with James now.

At this moment, I wanted to stay here and just relax. I was tired, both mentally and physically, and more importantly, I didn't want to spend more time with him today because…

Heck, I wasn't even sure my mind and body were working right whenever he was around. Yes, I was very tired; that was sure. After all, I'd only arrived in Los Angeles after a six-hour flight across America from New Hampshire. Furthermore, that few hours by bus and the hike up that steep hill to get to Mr. Maxwell's mansion. Not to mention the drama with Mr. Maxwell himself, as well as with that hunk William and his men. All I wanted to do now was lie in that very comfortable king-size bed and sleep the day away and not think about anything—not Andy, not the two million, and definitely not Mr. James Maxwell.

James raised his eyebrows. "You want to stay here?"

I slowly licked my lips again and nodded. "Yes, please."

"What the fuck are you doing to me, woman!" he growled roughly.

I blinked at the horrid statement and widened my eyes in shock. "Excuse me?" I uttered, confused.

Oh no, my coy tactic didn't work with James, and I panicked, searching my brain for another way to appease him. He sounded pissed, and I certainly didn't want that between us, especially now that our weird relationship had just started.

Within a flash, he caught my wrist, pulled me to him, and then scooped me into his powerful arms. Needless to say, I was both bewildered and shocked.

"James!" I shrieked. "What are you doing?"

He was heading upstairs now, taking two steps at a time, with me in his arms. "For God's sake, woman, make up your mind. Your idea of consent is bloody confusing."

I blinked again. Consent? What did he mean by that? Suddenly it dawned on me when I saw him heading toward his bedroom.

I panicked. "James! Please put me down. I think you misunderstood me."

He stepped across the threshold of the great bedroom and banged the door shut with his foot. He gently dropped me onto the king-size bed and then stood back.

He looked frustrated and angry, and I didn't know what to do. Heck, I didn't even know what I'd done to make him so pissed in the first place. All I wanted before we seriously began our relationship was to have a day to rest. Was my method ineffective? It was meant to come across sweet and pleasant when I wanted something.

I stared up at him with large eyes, blushing profusely as I continued to search my brain for words.

"Shit!" he snapped as he raked his fingers through his hair, his eyes dark on me.

"James? What's wrong?" I asked, my heart racing. I hated when men got angry. When men got mad, they did horrendous things. The only male I knew who never did was my brother Andy. He just kept quiet and stayed in his room.

The moment I saw the dangerous look in James Maxwell's eyes, my stomach knotted. Is he like Uncle Herbert? I wondered fearfully. Would he too whip me when he was upset? The thought didn't sit well with me, and I eyed the door in dread, searching for a way of escape.

Suddenly he swore again. "Fuck!"

I jolted.

James came to kneel on the floor in front of me and began unbuttoning my shirt.

"James?" My voice shook as I watched his hands working on my clothes. He was so close. "James?" I squeaked again.

"Mia, look at me," he demanded.

I hesitantly shifted my gaze to his face. The hot frustration and anger I'd seen earlier were gone. Now there was only the twinkling in the Prussian blue.

"I don't want to see you looking at me like that again," he said coldly.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, confused and distracted at the same time. He was peeling the material of my shirt away from my skin. I panicked even more, and my hands flew there, clutching the material against my chest.

"Just now, the way you looked at me and then at the door. Fuck, Mia. I don't want to see you like that again, understood? It's fucking sick. I'm not going to hurt you."

He must have seen the fear on my face. But how could I stop myself from showing the fright when…

I blinked. "Are we going to make love now?" I asked. I had no idea how it came to this.

He chuckled. "Do you expect anything else? The way you were looking at me before… We're only going to do the basic today, Mia," he explained. "It will be a bit unpleasant for you since it's your first time."