A Promise of Passion

by Maggie Carpenter

  “There’s so much about you I don’t know,” she sighed, “and I want to.”

  “You will, ma chérie, but while you shower, I must sketch. I have these moments where it is what I must do. My muse overtakes me.”

  “I won’t bother you,” she promised, closing the laptop. “After my shower I’m going to get back in touch with my friends here, check in and say hello, and then get myself organized.”

  “We must also have a light meal before we both take off.”

  “Yes, definitely,” she nodded.

  He stood for a moment, watching her naked body slip from behind the sheets, then suddenly moved swiftly across to the bed, grabbing her wrist and jerking her over his lap.

  “What are you doing?” she squealed.

  “My sketch pad isn’t the only thing that called to me. I had to see your beautiful le derrière, and give it a quick warming.”

  “Why?”

  “All that talk of the Chateau…it stirred me, and why not? It is good for you to start your day with a quick spanking.”

  “Ooh, not too hard.”

  “No, no, you know better than that,” he said, landing a quick, sharp smack.

  “I do, I lost my head, I’m sorry,” she said hastily.

  “I think you want this lovely backside to sting,” he murmured, landing another, “and that is why you said it.”

  “No, I didn’t, not really.”

  “Is that a fib?”

  “Maybe,” she muttered, wriggling on his lap.

  “Hah, as I thought,” he declared. “It will be quick, but I will leave you with what you need.”

  “Ooh, what was I thinking?” she groaned.

  “Hush now, no more talking. That is what you Americans call, stalling.”

  Raising his hand he dispatched a volley of sharp slaps, briskly moving his flattened palm from cheek to cheek before traveling it to her sit spot to finish with a few slow, solid smacks.

  “Voilà!” he declared, then staring at her crimson behind he began to lovingly fondle her hot skin, rubbing away the burn.

  Why do I need this? Why does this make me feel so satisfied? Is that even the word?

  “You will do very well this afternoon,” he crooned, interrupting her thoughts.

  “I know,” she murmured. “I don’t know why I know, I just do.”

  “Come,” he purred, bringing her up from his lap and into his arms.

  He held her until she pulled back, softly smiling at him. Her eyes were sparkling, and dropping his mouth on hers, he glided his lips in a warm, sweet kiss.

  “You are now ready for the day.”

  “Yes, I am,” she sighed.

  About the same time as Dominic left Vivien to fetch her laptop, Alana was leaving her bedroom in search of a kitchen and something to eat, and as she headed down the hallway, Charles magically appeared.

  “Good morning, Madame, would you care for some breakfast?”

  “I would, thank you.”

  “If you would please follow me, I have the small dining room ready for you.”

  As he led her through the penthouse, she passed a library, a home theatre, and an immense formal dining room that looked as if it had been transported from an English castle. Pushing through a swinging door she found herself in an elegant wood-paneled room with a round inlaid table, a buffet against one wall, and floor to ceiling windows that offered a magnificent view of the city.

  “What an amazing sight,” she muttered, gazing out at the many London landmarks.

  “Indeed, would you care for coffee or tea?”

  “Tea please, with milk and sugar.”

  “Any particular type of tea?”

  “Yorkshire Gold if you have it.”

  “We do, and for your meal?”

  “Two poached eggs on multi-grain toast and a side of cooked tomatoes.”

  “Thank you, Madame. It will be here shortly. If you care for anything else, just pick up that telephone and dial nine.”

  “Oh, right, thank you,” she replied.

  As he left, she moved closer to the windows. The city was slate grey under the looming clouds, and though the rain hitting the windows made the view bleary, it was still a breathtaking sight.

  “How did you sleep?”

  Harry’s voice made her jump, and turning around she placed her hand on her heart.

  “Whoa, you scared me. Where did you come from?”

  She was dressed in the same seductive, black, off-the-shoulder tunic and tights, and he wished she wasn’t. He didn’t know if it was the way her one shoulder was bare against the dark fabric, or how her breasts were so beautifully defined beneath the thin material, or even how long and lean her legs looked in the skintight leggings, but she reeked of an erotic sensuality that was making him want to throw her on his priceless dining table and fuck her senseless.

  Eye on the prize, Harry. Eye on the prize. Don’t get distracted.

  “I live here, remember?” he managed.

  “Funny!” she jibed. “Shouldn’t you be in your office making millions?”

  “I’ve been doing that for the last, let me see,” he muttered, staring at the oversized watch gracing his wrist, “four hours and thirty-three minutes.”

  “And just how many millions have you made?”

  “Seven m’s.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s how I answer that question. My money makes me more money every minute. Seven m’s. Not so easy to calculate, but for you, Alana, I will try. Let’s see, as of about half-an-hour ago, I was up about fifty.”

  “Fifty-million?” she gasped. “In four hours?”

  “About,” he nodded, “anyway, I was told you were up, and I thought I’d join you for my morning coffee break.”

  “I’m having tea.”

  “Now that you mention it, morning tea sounds like a better idea. Why don’t you have a seat, assuming it’s not too uncomfortable,” he winked, “and tell me what you thought of the Chateau? I assume you checked it out.”

  “I did check it out,” she replied, ignoring his comment about her tender backside.

  “And?”

  “And I think it sounds very, uh…I can’t think of the right word.”

  “Try,” he pressed.

  “Maybe after I have a cup of tea. That should stimulate my brain cells.”

  He watched her carefully as she pulled out her chair, and was happy to see she tried to cover up a wince as she settled.

  “I do believe it has arrived,” he smiled.

  The door was swinging open, and Charles entered with a large tray carrying a coffee thermos, an oversized porcelain teapot, milk jug, sugar bowl, and two cups and saucers. Placing the tray on the buffet he opened a drawer, and withdrawing a white linen cloth, he laid it efficiently on the table, and positioned place settings in front of them both.

  “I’ve decided on tea, Charles.”

  Wordlessly he poured the tea and placed the cups on the table, along with the milk jug and sugar, then quickly left the room.

  “May I ask a question?” Alana said, lowering her voice.

  “Certainly.”

  “Why didn’t he set the table before we came in?”

  “He didn’t know if you were going to be having a meal. He’s not going to lay down a tablecloth for a just a cup of tea, and I don’t usually have anything at this time of day.”

  “That makes sense. Is he a butler?”

  “He used to be. He’s more like a majordomo, and he travels with me everywhere. He’s indispensable, but Alana, before we get back to the Chateau, I assume you haven’t turned on your phone yet.”

  “No,” she said solemnly. “I want to, but-“

  “But you wanted to wait, as he discussed last night.”

  “Exactly.”

  “We’ll turn it on after breakfast. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” she nodded.

  “Is there something else on your mind?”

  “Am I that easy to read?” she frowne
d.

  “Probably not, but I’m exceptionally good at reading people, and I can see there’s something going on inside your head.”

  “Actually, there is,” she said softly, dropping her eyes.

  “And you want to tell me, but you’re hesitating.”

  “You’re right, you are exceptionally good,” she quipped, flashing him a quick glance.

  “Best tell me now. Your food will be here any minute.”

  “It’s just…”

  “I don’t think you’re the timid type, Alana. Spit it out.”

  “After the test shots are done, and the interviewing is over, I’d like to stick around London for a while, but I’m a bit worried about that creep who texted me.”

  “So you’d like to continue staying here at Harrison Towers, but it’s pricey. Something like that?”

  “I’m so embarrassed,” she muttered, “but, yes.”

  “Hold on, let me see who this is,” he said, the sudden ringing of his phone interrupting their conversation. “Sorry, I have to take this.”

  Pulling the phone from his pocket, he rose from the table and left the room. Moments later, Charles returned with her breakfast and the chicken sandwich that Harry had requested. Not wanting her eggs to get cold she decided to start, and was half-way finished by the time he returned.

  “Sorry about that,” he apologized as he sat down. “Ah, good, my sandwich. Let me take a bite and then we’ll get back to what we were talking about. I’m starving.”

  Continuing to finish her eggs, she waited, doing her best to hide her impatience.

  “That’s better,” he declared, downing several gulps of his tea. “You are certainly welcome to stay here, but that call was from Gustav. He’s decided to use the Chateau for his first location shoot for his new Spank Me Now jeans print campaign, and I’m going along for the ride.”

  “Oh, I see. When are you leaving?”

  “That’s still be worked out, but maybe in a couple of days.”

  “That soon?”

  “Gustav put everything on hold waiting for Vivien McKay to come back to work. He needs to get things rolling immediately. He should have started almost a month ago.”

  “Wow. He must have really wanted her.”

  “He was almost ready to find someone else, but he didn’t really want to, but regardless, just because I’m leaving, it doesn’t mean you can’t stay here. You’re welcome to, and I’m happy to provide security and a bodyguard.”

  “That’s very generous of you, thanks.”

  “Of course, you could always come along for the ride, and that will definitely get you away from whoever sent you that text.”

  “I would love that,” she exclaimed, “thank you, Harry.”

  “Does that means the Chateau appealed to you?” he asked with a Cheshire Cat grin.

  “Let’s just say, it didn’t not appeal to me.”

  “You’ll have your own room of course,” he smiled.

  She smiled back at him, but the look in his eye gave her stomach an odd turn.

  Something else is going on here. I can feel it. This is suddenly taking an exit off the freeway I hadn’t planned, but now that I think about it, a trip to the Chateau might just turn out to be very beneficial.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The rest of the day offered some interesting surprises for Vivien. Gustav called and announced that he was taking Harry up on his offer to use the Chateau Paradis Hédoniste for the first of the Spank Me Now location shoots. He had already spoken to Ben Marshall and worked out all the details. They would be leaving in two days, and as an added bonus, Harry would be flying them across the channel to France in one of his corporate jets.

  “But he’s not involved with your clothing line, is he?” Vivien asked.

  “No, not at all,” Gustav replied, “but if he wants to fly us, I will not object.”

  “Can he take time away from his business like that?”

  “He is Harry Harrison. He can do whatever he pleases.”

  Early in the afternoon, she received a call that the test shots would be taking place at Harrison Towers. It sounded odd, but it was where the limousine sent by Harry dropped her off. When she entered the busy lobby she was met by a young woman who led her past the elevators, through a door that was marked, No Entry, and down a concrete staircase. Pushing through another, heavy steel door, Vivien found herself in what was obviously a large, empty basement, filled with lighting equipment, a large, brightly lit makeup space, and a curtained area that she assumed was for wardrobe. Vivien recognized the casting director, Jenny Graham, hurrying forward to greet her.

  “Vivien, good to see you,” she said warmly.

  “I’m happy to be here, but I have to ask…” Vivien said, gesturing around her to finish the sentence.

  “Everything happened at the last minute,” Jenny explained. “I had no idea we’d be doing test shots until Mr. Harrison brought it up at the interview. We couldn’t find a studio close by at such short notice so we scouted out something in the building. The photographer loved it on sight.”

  “I can see why,” Vivien remarked. “You could do anything down here, and it’s so quiet.”

  “It is that,” Jenny nodded. “You can see where make-up is located, and wardrobe is on the other side of that curtain.”

  “I figured.”

  “Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee?”

  “Just some water handy when we start.”

  “I’ll make sure of it,” Jenny promised. “Let’s go on through. I’ll introduce you to Gail. She’ll be dressing you today. We have some really cute things picked out.”

  “Do you know if Gustav is coming?” Vivien asked as they walked forward.

  “No, I don’t think so,” she replied. “If he is, I haven’t been told, and I’m usually kept in the loop about that sort of thing.”

  It wasn’t long before the clothes were selected, and Vivien was dressed, sitting in front of the makeup mirror. As the final touches were being applied, a youngish man with long blond hair, strode up to her and introduced himself.

  “Hi, it’s great to meet you,” he said enthusiastically. “I love your work. I’ve followed you for ages.”

  “Oh, thanks,” she smiled, wondering who he was.

  “Sorry, I just realized, I should have introduced myself. Peter King’s the name. I’ll be taking your shots today.”

  “Oh, you’re the photographer,” she exclaimed. “Peter King? That name rings a bell.”

  “I worked for Raphael in Paris for a while.”

  “You did? Wow. Should I know you? Were you working for him when I did the Spank Me Now shoot?”

  “No, that was completed just before I arrived.”

  “I’ll bet you had fun with him,” she grinned. “He’s such a character.”

  “I did, and he was the one who introduced me to Gustav, who ended up using me for some of his shoots. He brought me in to meet Harry, and bingo, here I am.”

  “This business!” she declared. “In front of, or behind the camera, it’s who you know.”

  “Partly,” he nodded, “but you still have to have the goods to back up it.”

  “True,” she agreed.

  “You’re done,” the makeup girl announced. “You may have your way with her, Peter.”

  “Great, let’s go,” Peter said, taking her hand and leading her on to the set.

  Vivien suddenly felt her nerves kick in, and paused her step.

  “You know I’ve been off for almost a year,” she said softly.

  Stopping beside her, he looked into her eyes. The fear was there, and it was real.

  “Hey, you look fabulous,” he said, lowering his voice. “I’m really honored to be working with you, and we both know the camera loves you. That won’t have changed. Do you like to work with music?”

  “Sure,” she nodded. “Did you bring CD player?”

  “Of course. Let’s see, we want something moody, something romantic. Who do you like? H
ow about Adele?”

  “Yes, Adele would be perfect,” she said eagerly.

  Continuing to hold her hand he headed into the set, then leaving her in front of the neutral colored backdrop he disappeared into the shadows. The lights were in place, but not yet burning, and she could see the crew ambling around waiting for the session to begin. The singer’s famous, smoky voice suddenly filled the air, and she heard Peter order the lights to be turned on. Moments later he appeared, and staring at her, began moving silver umbrellas and placing filters over the light canisters. Finally satisfied, he picked up his handheld camera and stared at her.

  “You ready, gorgeous?”

  “Sure,” she replied, and lifting her hand into her hair, she turned her shoulder to the camera and stared into the lens.

  “That’s good,” he muttered, “drop your chin a bit, yes, like that, and sell me, baby, show me how good it feels to be you.”

  His camera was clicking, she was moving, tilting her head at different angles, and smiling her best smile, but she knew it wasn’t working.

  “Hold on,” he said, raising his hand.

  Vivien’s heart was throbbing as he moved towards her, but as he approached he gave her a reassuring smile.

  “You look amazing,” he said softly, “but your eyes, they’re not talking.”

  “I know,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong. I feel…weird. I guess I’m just rusty.”

  “It’s okay,” he said, then leaning in he whispered, “I want you to think about the last time you were naked, and with a guy you’re crazy about. That feeling, that’s what I want to see. It’s just you and me, babe. Tell me all about him as you look into my lens, and I mean, tell me everything. Got it?”

  “Got it,” she sighed, and as he walked away, the memory of being over Dominic’s lap just hours before flashed through her head.

  “Ready?” he asked, lifting his camera.

  She nodded her head, and as she began to move, images of her sensuous, salacious, passionate moments with Dominic flooded her senses. She could taste him, smell him, and feel his touch. She was relating to the lens like it was a long, lost friend and she was sharing her story, wordlessly confiding her moments of prurient pleasure and delicious pain. The music surrounded her, the evocative lyrics echoing through the room cloaked her, and Adele’s thick velvet voice seemed to be touching her soul. Suddenly, the overwhelming moment when Dominic stepped off the plane and engulfed her in his arms clutched her heart, and a single tear trickled down the side of her cheek.