Cameron's Control (Novella #1): The Enthrall Sessions (Volume 4) Read Free Page B

wrapped in each other’s arms.
    Mia reached out and took my hand, gazing at me beneath long lashes, her blue eyes alight with wonder. I drew on my will of steel not to take her again right here in the car, though having her dressed in this elegant shimmering Armani gown, with its hand sewn crystals and delicate gold weaving, influenced my decision.
    A few hours ago I’d made a call to my stylist, Sylvia Hudson, and she’d turned up at the beach house with a selection of dresses for Mia to choose from. Sylvia matched Mia’s favorite dress with elegant Christian Louboutin shoes.
    Sylvia had worked for me long enough to know to bring one of my bespoke black tie suits and these Salvatore Ferragamo shoes.
    I’d brought hardly anything to the beach house. I’d not intended on staying for more than a few hours. My path crossing with Mia’s felt like a gift.
    Her endless show of gratitude was endearing, but now she was part of my life and I insisted she take all this luxury in stride. She was going to have to get used to it and I’d taken her aside during Sylvia’s visit and told her this.
    That thin strip of rubies now served as her new collar. I’d removed the other one and secured it in the bedroom safe and expedited delivery of this exquisite handmade piece from my Beverly Hills home.
    Lincoln, my personal butler, had brought it to Malibu as per my request. I didn’t tell Mia she was wearing millions for fear she wouldn’t enjoy it.
    The choker had once belonged to my Aunt Rose, who’d told me it should be given to the one . This piece represented the kind of commitment I was now ready for.
    We talked endlessly.  
    Mia shared her experiences of working in Willem’s Art store in North Hollywood. During her early days in the city, there was no way she could have imagined a place like Enthrall. Her stories made me laugh. Like the one about a colorblind artist who Mia always tried to guide when choosing paints for his next masterpiece. She’d even hung his work inside the studio beside the store and supported the young man’s clashing concoctions. Her nudging the starving artist toward more pleasing palettes and her effort to sell his pieces to the art loving crowd afforded him to eat at least.
    We talked about her future and she questioned me on a career in psychology. A profession she had a natural inclination for.
    Every second with her felt right. No one came close to captivating me like she did. Her soft southern lilt, those innocent words flowing unabashedly, those plump, full lips that were now mine to kiss.
    It was hard to grasp that only this morning I’d packed a suitcase for Paris. It made me happy to think I’d be taking Mia on my next trip to France. I couldn’t wait to show her the rest of Europe.
    The impossible unraveled in what felt like another life, proving once again this sense of control was a ruse.
    “How’s Henry?” she asked.
    “Fine. He’s hanging out at the Venice Beach house. I gave him some space.”
    “Did you surf?”  
    “Not yet. We bought boards though. We just sat and talked.” It had felt as though no time had slipped between us.
    Our past was a mixture of a shared childhood and later, when duty called, Henry had joined the military and I’d attended Harvard. That final deployment had seen Henry come undone, his capture and subsequent torture in an Afghanistan encampment had almost destroyed him. I’d taken him the rest of the way, or so I’d believed, debriefing him to extract strategic information. The words he’d eventually spew had merely been digits and codes, but central intelligence had connected the dots and subsequently intercepted an attack on our homeland.
    Henry had been sent home to recuperate in a psychiatric wing and I’d endured these last few years believing with all my heart I’d been the one to put him there.
    Without telling anyone, Mia had visited my brother and leant her own brand of healing. Her sweet innocence was all it took for me to