Pure Paradise by Allison Hobbs Page B

sense of doom engulfed her. When she noticed her hands beginning to shake, she clasped them together to still the terrible trembling.
    Instead of sending a team of lawyers and a sheriff to shut down the dungeon and evict Veronique and BodySlam from their home as she’d instructed him to, Maxwell was probably holed up with lawyers scheming to take over Pure Paradise just for spite. He knew that would be the best way to reallyscrew her over. Taking Pure Paradise from her would really bring the pain and hostile takeovers were Maxwell’s specialty.
    Nausea knotted her stomach. How stupid can you get! she chastised herself. The last person she needed to turn on her was the unscrupulous Maxwell Torrance. It was not a good idea to have him on your bad side.
    She swallowed a lump of fear that formed in her throat. Foolishly, she’d allowed her kitty to get dick-whipped by Hilton, who was a few steps above being a pauper, while allowing a billionaire to slip from her grasp. She should have kept a close eye on Maxwell. Clearly, he thrived with hands-on discipline; he simply couldn’t hold up under the strain of exile.
    Stupid, stupid, stupid! Her desire to get a hot fuck from the driver Maxwell had bequeathed her was a bad business call. Now blaming Hilton for her predicament, she narrowed her eyes at the driver and then gave a loud, exasperated sigh.
    “Why are you giving me the evil eye? I didn’t lose your boy.”
    Here I go again, letting my heart get me in trouble . She rolled her eyes hard at Hilton, whose cool demeanor and unwillingness to love her was a callous reminder of her ordeal with Gerard. Refusing to give up easily, she picked up the car phone and called Maxwell’s home.
    “Mr. Torrance is away on business,” his housekeeper informed her politely. Milan slammed down the phone. She looked off in thought and then called his cell, which went straight to voicemail. Aghast, she covered her mouth, unable to come to terms with the fact that she was in possible jeopardy of losing her generous benefactor. What am I going to do? “Call his secretary,” a tiny, insecure inner voice instructed. She’d always treated his secretary with disdain and disrespect; it would be so humiliating to have to resort to speaking to the woman inan undeserved civil tone. She snatched up the phone again. A girl has to do what a girl has to do, she reminded herself.
    “Hi, Barb, how are you? This is Milan Walden. What’s on Mr. Torrance’s schedule today?” Milan asked crisply, removing all arrogance from her voice.
    “Mr. Torrance’s schedule is strictly confidential; I’m not at liberty to say,” his secretary happily responded.
    “Oh, fuck you, bitch,” Milan spat and then banged the car phone inside its compartment.
    A million scary thoughts flitted through her mind. Instant poverty was at the top of the list. She blamed Hilton and gave herself an inner warning to keep the chiseled hottie at bay until she had Maxwell securely back in her clutches. Good dick spelled nothing but trouble and she, of all people, should have known better than to put her heart on the line before she’d acquired a more substantial amount of Maxwell’s assets.
     
    The mixture of citrus and woodsy scents wafting inside Pure Paradise normally put a smile on her face but today the smell seemed heavy and irritating, making her wrinkle her nose in annoyance the moment she entered the building.
    “Good morning,” Royce said politely.
    Mad at the world, Milan wanted to say, “Oh, shut the fuck up!” but other staff members were within earshot. Keeping it professional, she returned a mumbled greeting accompanied by a sneer that she hoped conveyed her true feelings to her personal pussy licker. Striding toward the elevator, her hard clicking heels announced to anyone within earshot that she wasnot in a good mood. She exited the elevator on the top floor, thinking that there had better be a large container of cappuccino waiting on her desk or she was