Her Guardian Billionaire (Forbidden First Time Romance) by Belle Chastain Page B

He squeaked and hugged her back. “Thank you, Malcolm. Take care of him, will you?”
    “I always do, miss.”
    Anna stepped back, and Malcolm backed away with a nod.
    With a deep breath, she turned, standing tall as she walked out the front door and out of James’s life. A sob bubbled up from her chest, and she bit her knuckle to keep from crying out.
    If she’d only left when she was supposed to. Driven away before Malcolm had given her the invitation. Then she’d be miles away, living her own life without a hole inside her that she’d never be able to fill. Damn James and his fear.
    She ran to the garage, blinking back a fresh wave of tears, and stared at all the cars. Pushing her hair off her face, she tried to get it together.  
    But all she could see was the future with James. The man she’d fantasized about for years and finally got. The man she’d foolishly given her heart. His hands as he stroked her bare flesh, his lips as he kissed her, his tongue making her come. She’d wanted to give him everything—her virginity, her love, all of her—and he’d thrown her out without giving her a chance.
    All she wanted was to hurt him back. To twist a knife in his gut the way he’d done to her. Her gaze flitted over the hoods—Mercedes, Porsche, Range Rover, Aston Martin. The Aston Martin .
    Smiling through her tears, she grabbed the keys from the wall and beeped the coupe open. Slipping into the leather seat, she rested her head on the steering wheel and took a breath. James babied the coupe. Only driving it when the weather was clear. A Sunday drive to air it out and keep it running. Sitting up, she stuck the key in the ignition and took a deep breath. Lucky me, it’s Sunday .
    Starting the car, she backed it out of the garage in a rush, squealing the tires and revving the engine. If the car was her parting gift, she was sure as hell going to use it. Punching the gas, she flew down the drive, through the gate and onto the narrow road. A few miles of curves and she’d be on the highway and away from the Davenport residence forever.
    She might as well see how fast the car could go.

C HAPTER S IX

    P RESSING HIS HEAD into the bedpost, he closed his eyes and breathed in and out. The last two days meant nothing. She was gone and everything would resume as if she’d never disrupted his life at all.
    “She’s gone, sir.”
    Spinning on his heel, he ran a hand through his hair and nodded. “Thank you, Malcolm.”
    “Can I get you anything, sir?”
    Amnesia would be nice . “No, thank you, Malcolm.”
    The butler nodded but stayed still, refusing to leave.
    “Is there something else?”
    “It’s not my place sir but…are you sure you did the right thing?”
    James snorted and stared past his butler to the open doorway, remembering her naked body as she tore down the hall. “What thing are we referring to Malcolm? Kicking Anna out? Falling for a charlatan? Please, enlighten me.”
    “She’s not a charlatan, sir.”
    “And how would you know anything about it?”
    “I’ve been her only friend for eight years.”
    James didn’t miss the regret laced through the butler’s words. “Did you tell her about Bianca?”
    “No. I did not.”
    “Well, someone must have. And she used it—it’s the past all over again—I let a woman into my life and look what happens. She betrays me.”
    “Are you sure about that, sir?”
    “Of course I’m sure! I read her acceptance letter for god sakes. They splash my name all over it.”
    “But do you know what she wrote them? What they based that acceptance on?”
    James frowned and focused on the floor. Did he? He’d read the letter. But she’d looked at him with such hurt and sadness. No, she couldn’t have been telling the truth . “It was right there in black and white.”
    “Perhaps, if I might be so bold sir, you’d like to read her application.” Malcolm held out a handful of papers and James reached out to take it. Flipping past the biographical