His Control: A Billionaire Romance Page 3

  More than anything else, I couldn’t help but think what a shame it was; that a fun-loving, carefree kid like Micah had been, could turn into the man with the hard eyes and the cold smile whom I’d met that afternoon.

  A damn shame.

  4

  Ella

  So it was with some surprise that I found myself, not a week later, inside the Wiltmore house, plans in hand, directing my team on how best to get started.

  Only a couple days after our initial encounter, Micah’s attorney had gotten in touch to let us know that we’d won the contract. I was so surprised that my first reaction was, “Oh, uh...are you sure?” The silence on the other end of the line had lingered, so I blustered on. “It’s just that Mr. Frost didn’t give the impression to me when we met that the proposal was to his liking.”

  The attorney had just laughed softly, as if he knew something about Micah that I didn’t.

  “Mr. Frost is always emphatic about his decisions, Miss. Gordon. Now, he would like the work to begin on Monday morning. Is that acceptable?”

  We’d gotten the rest of the minor details out of the way before I’d hung up and just sat in my office, unsure of what was going on. What was his game? Was he trying to screw with me, to keep me on my toes? Or was he just a contrary, awkward bastard who liked to power-trip?

  I brushed all that to one side after a little while though, as the realization came to me that I’d just won the biggest contract of my life. If I got this right, and completed the renovation to the standard that I knew we could, it would be a springboard to even greater things in the future.

  I called Graham into the my office tell him the news, and he jumped about three feet in the air and let out a whoop, then rushed around my desk to pull me into a bear hug.

  “I knew he’d give it to us!” he exclaimed. “There was no way he could resist you in that little black number you wore when you went to give him that proposal.”

  I laughed.

  “Graham, I would hope that my appearance had nothing to do with the decision, just the quality of this proposal.”

  I paused for a moment, considering.

  “But if he gave it to me because he likes my legs, then fuck it, I’m not arguing with him.”

  “Atta girl!” Graham said. “Use it if you got it!”

  I hugged my best friend all over again, my eyes shining.

  “This is it, Gray! This is the big break that we’ve been waiting for!”

  He kissed me on the cheek, a huge smile on his face.

  “And you deserve it, Ella. You worked so hard on that proposal, there was no way anyone else was ever gonna compete. Now, let me tell everyone else the good news. You find some wine so we can celebrate!”

  We’d rolled up on Monday morning, me and all my staff and contractors, and Micah had personally let us into the house. He was as handsome as ever, dressed a little more casually this time in slacks and a linen shirt, but still just as aloof and distant as ever. Despite my misgivings over his behavior, I had to try my best not to let my eyes linger on him. Old habits die hard, and Micah was one of my oldest.

  He mostly stood to one side and let us get on with things at first, just watching silently as my team got set up and started emptying the house of furniture, stripping walls and sanding floors. The first week or so would just be preparatory work like this - I liked to think of it as creating a blank canvas, ready for us to put our mark on it when the real work began.

  I was giving orders and directing workers when I felt Micah approach me from behind. I studiously ignored him as I carried on with what I was doing, but he eventually cleared his throat and I turned to him, an irritated question on my lips.

  Before I could say anything, he held out a sheaf of papers, and I took them from him.

  “I’ll need a full schedule for every single worker on my property. Where they’ll be working, their job description; everything. I’ll be going over it and making adjustments as I see fit.”

  I just blinked at him.

  “What?”

  He looked down at me, eyes cool, demeanor unruffled.

  “I don’t believe I was unclear, Miss Gordon. If you could simply give me the information I’ve asked for, I’ll have the adjusted timetables with you by the end of the day.”

  I just shook my head and let out a little laugh.

  “Are you serious? You want to micromanage my team for me?”

  He just shrugged.

  “I don’t know if ‘micromanage’ is really the right term. I simply want to make sure everything is done as efficiently as possible, to my exact specifications.”

  I dropped the stack of papers on the floor, furious.

  “No.”

  He cocked his head at me, seemingly in disbelief at what I’d just done.

  This guy is not used to hearing that word, huh?

  “Look,” I said. “All my guys have a criminal background check. I can vouch for them all individually, and we’ve worked together on plenty of projects. I’m responsible for the scheduling - I own this company, and that is what you’ve hired me for, isn’t it? I don’t feel you are entitled to dictate to me how to run my business.”

  He didn’t say a word, just stared at me for one more long second before turning on his heel and stalking away. He didn’t let his mask slip for a second, but I could see his jaw bunched, his hands clenched. He was mad as hell, but wasn’t going to give me the satisfaction of seeing it.

  Child. Grow the hell up. Who has time for stupid little games like this?

  With a sigh I went back to work. I hoped I hadn’t made a mistake in working for Micah.

  He spent the rest of the day tramping throughout the house, watching me and the rest of my staff as we worked. He never offered to step in and help, and never said a single thing. Just watched. When his attention was off me, I kept catching myself glancing at him; at his inscrutable gray eyes, his toned forearms, the way his butt looked in those slacks...

  And each time I had to scold myself, remind myself that he was a stuck-up authoritarian. Sure, he was gorgeous, but he was also a raging asshole.

  As if he’d heard my internal monologue and wanted to help me reinforce it, he approached me later in the afternoon. I was bent low, stripping old, ugly wallpaper from the wall.

  “Have you ever thought about a manicure, Ella? If you did your nails, your hands wouldn’t look so...manly.”

  I stood and faced him, hands on hips and fury in my eyes.

  “What business of yours are my hands, Micah? I can’t even believe what I’m hearing right now. It’s not like I’m ever going to be touching… be wrapping them around your...”

  I caught myself, and blushed. Ugh, Graham was right. I did talk like a freaking sailor when I was stressed at work.

  Where the hell did that come from, you idiot?

  He grinned - the first genuine smile I’d actually seen from him since we’d met for the first time outside the house.

  “Hey now, who’s talking about wrapping your hands around anything of mine? I just wanted to let you know that you have very lovely hands, and it would be a shame to see them all callused and wrinkled.”

  His words cut deeper than he’d probably intended. I was fully aware that my job position was considered, by some old dinosaurs, to not be a ‘typical’ woman’s job. Painting, decorating, sanding - a love of working with my hands had been instilled in me by my dad from a young age, and it was all I’d ever wanted to do. But despite that, I tried hard to maintain my femininity. I actually did get a manicure once per week, to try and counteract all the manual work, but it didn’t always last. Right now my skin was chapped and dry, my fingernails chipped.

  Micah must’ve seen the effect his comment had had upon me, because his eyes suddenly softened and he stepped closer to me, voice low.

  “Sorry,” he grumbled, his face tight like it wasn’t a word his mouth liked saying. “That was…out of line. Sometimes I run my mouth, speak without thinking. I can figure out complex mac
hines and diagnose obscure diseases, but I’m still trying to figure out tact. As uh”—he cleared his throat, awkwardly—“you may be able to tell.”

  I just nodded, giving him a little smile.

  “Yeah, it’s probably something you could consider working on, Micah.”

  He straightened up and smiled at me once more, then moved away, off to bother someone else probably.

  After he’d gone, I spent a few seconds wondering about that sudden change I’d seen, the softening of his eyes. Was the Micah I remembered, that kind, honest kid, still in there somewhere, hiding underneath this carefully crafted persona he’d built around himself? Or was this all still part of his game?

  I shrugged and got back to work. I was guessing I’d find out in time.

  Hopefully.

  Later that day, as the sun was setting and the last warm orange rays illuminated the hallway where I worked, I finished the final section of wallpaper stripping. Stretching and yawning, I checked my watch. Almost 7:00 pm, and the house was quiet. All my staff had left around five, but I’d decided to stay on and get this hallway finished, ready to be treated and painted first thing in the morning.

  I took a deep breath and looked around me - the house was utterly magical in this light, even in its current half-complete state. I wandered through the empty rooms, taking the time alone to appreciate the artistry and magnificence of the place. Some people think old run-down houses are scary, but the Wiltmore house was nothing like that. The ambience was like a window into the past, into the glory days of Ocean Hills. It was something very special, that I’d never felt about any other property I’d ever worked on or lived in.

  My shoes echoed lightly against the wooden flooring as I wandered through the house, wishing so fervently that it was mine, that I’d had the time to save up enough to buy it before Micah Frost had swept in and taken it all away from me.

  Speak of the devil.

  I found him in a little side room, standing facing away from me, staring at a wall.

  “Is everything alright? You look like you’ve been staring at that blank wall for quite a while. I mean, I’m sure it’s a lovely section of blank wall, but...”

  If he was surprised that I was still here, he didn’t show it. He didn’t even turn around to look at me.

  “This house is so odd,” he murmured, deep in thought. “The plans show that there’s a little room hidden behind this section of the wall. I don’t know if it was once open and then bricked up, or was intentionally designed like this.”

  My curiosity piqued, I said, “Well, there’s only one way to find out!”

  My tools were out in the hallway and I ran to fetch them. When I returned, hammer and chisel in hand, he laughed.

  “I was expecting a sledgehammer. How are you going to take down a whole wall with those puny little things?”

  I raised an eyebrow at him.

  “See, this is why it’s a good thing you hired me. If I left you to your own devices you’d trash this place, and I’d never be able to forgive you for it.”

  I walked up to the wall and appraised it with a critical eye.

  “See, if I make a little hole here with the chisel, we can see if there’s anything behind there, and if there isn’t, you can hang a little picture in front of it. Nobody will be any the wiser.”

  I started chipping away at a section of wall.

  “But, if I smash the place up with a sledgehammer and we don’t find anything, we’ve made a huge mess and ruined this lovely old wallpaper.”

  Tap, tap, tap.

  “Sometimes, a little more of a….refined approach is better than coming out swinging with a sledgehammer.”

  I finished making a little hole, and turned to face him.

  “Wouldn’t you agree?”

  He had the grace to look just the tiniest bit sheepish, obviously catching the double meaning of my words. And was that just the light, or was he blushing, just a little?

  I smiled at him.

  “Well, are you gonna stand there all night staring at me, or do you want to take a look through my hole and see what we’ve got back there?”

  He stepped up and peered through, and I saw him tense up immediately.

  “Pass me that hammer, quickly.”

  His voice was taut with excitement. I handed the tool to him and he started widening the opening. Soon it was large enough that I could stand next to him and get a look of my own.

  It was dark back there, but there was just enough light left streaming through the room that I could make out...something back there. Dark shapes, a couch maybe, and a table? I leaned in closer in my eagerness. There was definitely furniture of some description, and that table had objects sitting on it.

  In my excitement I hadn’t even noticed how close I was to Micah, our bodies pressed close together as we both tried to see what was hidden in that secret room. With a cough, I stood and stepped away from him a little.

  He straightened up and glanced at me, his eyes wide and shining with excitement. I was taken aback by the difference in him - gone was that carefully curated exterior he’d been projecting, and in its place was the open, friendly man I’d crushed on all those years ago.

  “What do you say we smash this mother down and get in there and see what we’ve got?” he asked breathlessly.

  “That,” I drawled, “sounds like the best idea you’ve had all day.”

  He hurried out and returned a minute later, clutching a sledgehammer. He raised an eyebrow at me as he hefted it, and I just rolled my eyes at him.

  It didn’t take him long to get the hole big enough to fit through, and I have to admit that it wasn’t the worst sight, watching the muscles on his arms bunch as he swung that hammer around. When he was done, his expensive clothes were covered in dust and debris, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care.

  He’d stuffed a flashlight into his pocket, and took it out now, flicking it on.

  “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s take a look.”

  He went in first, and I followed him, carefully picking my way over the debris and through the jagged hole. I yelped as I bumped into his back. He was standing there silently, sweeping the flashlight beam around the room. I could hear his excited breathing in the silence.

  “Hey!” I said. “I know it’s exciting but would you mind moving out of the way?”

  He stepped to one side, and then I saw what had gotten him so excited.

  It was a small room, but perfectly preserved. It had probably been sitting hidden behind that wall for almost a century - it was like taking a step back in time. I made my way over to the first thing that caught my eye - a big old grandfather clock, standing against one wall. I put my ear to it - it was silent, of course, after all this time. But it was magnificent - carved from mahogany, with intricate, sweeping patterns crisscrossing the wood. Micah was murmuring to himself as he inspected the rest of the room. There was a couch, and a little walnut table. A sideboard was cluttered with little curios and knick-knacks, and there were gorgeous old paintings lining the walls. And all of it was perfectly preserved - it had just been sitting here for all these years, untouched, unseen, unknown.

  Micah and I stood there for a little time, next to each other, just drinking it all in. There was a sense of reverence, standing there and knowing that you were the first person to see this in so many years.

  “It’s beautiful,” he said, softly. “I thought it was just an old rumor or something. I didn’t expect to actually find anything back here, let alone a treasure trove like this.”

  I murmured my assent, my eyes still drawn to the stunning things in front of me.

  “This is why I always dreamed of owning this old place,” I said. “All the stories and rumors and secrets just intrigued me. But yeah...I thought most of them were just stories. I mean, why build a room like this and then wall the damn thing up? It’s just so odd.”

  He grunted.

  “The original owner was a real eccentric, apparently. Maybe he just thought
it would be cool?”

  I laughed.

  “Or maybe he was just crazy! Either way, I’m glad in a way, that he was, so we could find it like this all these years later.”

  Now it was his turn to laugh.

  “I’ll get an antiques expert in as soon as I can, to appraise all this. See if we can’t find out what it all is.”

  He made another slow circuit of the room.

  “And I think I’ll keep the whole thing, just like this, exactly as we found it.”

  I smiled, relieved. I was worried, once he’d mentioned getting an appraisal, that he was going to sell it all.

  “I’m glad you said that,” I said. “I think that would be perfect - retain all the old character of the place.”

  He finished his final circuit of the room and came to stand close to me, his face lit by torchlight. I couldn’t help but be aware of the closeness of him, of his musky scent.

  “Well,” he murmured, “I’m glad we’re in agreement.”

  There was a long, lingering moment where we stood, staring into each other’s eyes, before he abruptly turned and stepped back out through the hole. I followed him, my mouth dry, my heart quickening in my chest.

  I could’ve kissed him there. After all that he’s done, after all that stupid shit he said today, and if he’d leaned in for a kiss, I wouldn’t have been able to help myself. Jesus, get it together, woman.

  As we tidied up the mess from our wall demolition, my mind was buzzing with thoughts, about the house, the secret room, the next day’s work. But, mostly, about Micah. When he let his guard down, I could see that same guy I remembered. I just hoped that as time went on, he’d let down his barriers, let me in.

  It’ll make it easier to work together, I told myself. But, of course, that wasn’t the whole truth. I still had feelings for Micah, I couldn’t deny that to myself any longer. But if this new persona of his was just what he was like now...well, I didn’t know if I could love that man.