The English Billionaire’s Obsession Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
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“He’s seven. I got him when he was three. They tied the poor bugger up in a caravan for twelve hours a day. Terrified of everything, reactive in the extreme.”

“Seriously? This ball of love?”

Loki is licking my hand, then clambers into my lap, curling into a ball and looking up at me as if to say, Well, are you going to stroke me or not?

“I know. Difficult to believe,” Thomas chuckles, “but he’s learned he doesn’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“Maybe you’ll learn that too,” I say softly.

Thomas tilts his head, as if asking a silent question.

“Maybe you’ll learn you don’t need to be scared that I’m just some gold digger.”

“Ah, right… that.” He grins tightly.

“If I was a gold digger,” I go on, “I’ve gone about my mission in the most roundabout way possible. First, I applied for an overseas internship. Then, I wait at my window for the CEO of the parent company to show up. Then, I wait for somebody to graffiti the house.”

“I get it.” He laughs darkly. “Maybe I’m paranoid.”

“Why?” I ask as the car pulls away, my hand moving through Loki’s fur. “Did something happen? Did you get close to somebody once, and they turned out to be a gold digger?”

“No. Honestly, Amelia, I’ve never been close to anybody.”

I’m not sure if I believe this, can believe it, but at the same time, I don’t feel like he’s lying to me.

“I’ve seen it happen,” he goes on, “to men and women. Wealth attracts all kinds of people.”

“I’m here for the city and to work as an artist. That’s all. It has nothing to do with being a gold digger.”

He says nothing, and we continue driving quietly for a few minutes, except for Loki’s contented sigh as I scratch him under his beardy chin.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“I’ve rented a swimming pool for Loki,” he replies. “He loves swimming. He can entertain himself for hours. There’s an area for us to grab a bite to eat and watch him. How does that sound?”

I want to tell him it sounds perfect, but I have to remember my mission.

“That depends,” I say. “Are we going to talk?”

For a second, I think he’s going to snap. He gets all fierce again, clenching his jaw, his eyes narrowed, but then the fire fades, and he lets out a shaky sigh.

“We’ll talk,” he says, “but I should warn you now. You might not like what you hear.”

“Jeez, Thomas—”

“You can call me Tommy if you like,” he says.

“Huh?”

“My friends call me Tommy, but it’s up to you.”

This shouldn’t make so much emotion whelm in me, but it does.

“You can call me Ami, then,” I tell him.

He grins, reaches over, and lays his hand on mine. “Okay, Ami.”

“Tommy, could you maybe just tell me now? I’m dying of anticipation here.”

“Just give me some time, all right?” he says. “I need to get ready.”

“For what?”

“Your reaction.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Thomas

We sit in the café above the swimming pool; the window lets us look down as Loki swims up and down, chasing his floating teddy bear. A couple of my security team play with him, calling to him from the pool’s edges.

Ami bites into her panini, dabbing a napkin at the corner of her mouth. She keeps aiming wide, expectant eyes at me, and I know I can’t put it off any longer, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try.

“How long have you been an artist?” I ask.

She tilts her head as if to say, Come on…

“I’m interested,” I tell her.

“How about this, then?” she says fierily. “One question each.”

I swallow. This could end badly, but I’ve gone too far to back off now.

“Okay, sure.”

She nods. “Since I was eight. I had a kickass teacher, Miss Núñez. She’d let me sketch in math class sometimes, and for English, she assigned me a task to draw pictures of the characters. I was lucky. I found what I love early.”

She glows with passion. Her ponytail begins to come loose, a few strands spiraling, giving her a slightly wild look, untamed as if she’s waiting for a man to tame her.

Not a man. Me, only me.

“My turn, right?” she says.

I look down at the pool, Loki’s head held high as he swims toward my security guard, tail poking straight up out of the water like a shark’s fin.

“Tho… Tommy?” she says.

“Yeah, Ami. It’s your turn.”

“Why did you show up at the house?” she says.

I take a bite of my panini, then place it down. “This is difficult to answer.”

“Well, try.”

My admiration for her soars when she stares firmly, leaning forward. I can imagine her looking at another parent just like this, staring down a challenge because their kid has been bullying ours. Before, I never thought about stuff like that. Now it won’t stop, and I don’t want it to.



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