“You’ll love the manor,” James remarked, as the elevator descended. “It’s a marvelous old place. I’m sorry I won’t be joining you this trip.”
I’m not, Belle thought. I want Simon all to myself.
“It does sound beautiful, and I must say I am looking forward to being there. I’ve never been in a manor house.”
The elevator doors opened, and Belle saw Simon stride out of his study.
“Excellent. Perfect timing.”
Henry opened the front doors, and she saw a Bentley convertible waiting at the curb.
“I’m driving,” Simon announced, answering her unspoken question.
She trotted eagerly down the steps and into the passenger seat, thrilled at the prospect of the long drive with just the two of them. The car was chocolate brown, with a cream and brown interior, and as Belle ran her fingers across the cool, glossy, burled walnut trim, she thought it was one of the most beautiful cars in which she’d ever sat.
“I see you like it,” Simon remarked, as he sat behind the wheel and started the engine.
“I love it. It’s like a tiny version of your plane. Cream and brown and gorgeous wood everywhere.”
“I suppose it is,” he chuckled. “Aren’t you clever! I’d never have thought of that.”
Pulling into the street, he drove slowly through the neighborhood, then turned on to the main road that would take them out of the city.
“You have to tell me about Tyler now, you promised,” Belle insisted.
“Hmmm. I did, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did.”
“You mustn’t get upset. I know you, and I’m asking you in advance not to get upset.”
“Now I’m worried.”
“Before I left to travel to Beverly Hills, I called Tyler and asked him if he knew any pretty girls who might have an interest in, well, our kind of, uh–”
“What?” she interrupted. “You asked him if he knew any girls who liked to be spanked and tied up and he told you about me? Oh, my God! Simon, this is impossible!” she exclaimed. “How can I ever be around him again?”
“Yep. You’re getting upset.”
“Wrong. I AM upset. How did he even know?” she demanded.
“Belle, calm down. It’s no big deal. Certainly isn’t to him or to me. You went out with someone he knew, and you made your interests clear and apparently that person mentioned it to him.”
“For pity’s sake,” she groaned. “I have to know who it was. I’ll fly back to L.A. and choke him. How can I ever be around Tyler, ever again?” she repeated, waving her arms dramatically.
“As far as seeing Tyler, I can assure you, if you’re with me he would assume you’re a submissive anyway.”
“Are you telling me you’ve never dated a girl you couldn’t put over your knee?” she demanded testily.
“Not for more than one night, and watch your tone, young lady, or I’ll pull over right now and do just that.”
Appropriately scolded, Belle stared at her lap, crossing her hands, and began to fiddle with her skirt.
“Sorry, Simon. It’s just weird, that’s all.”
“I know it might seem that way, but Tyler is very easy to be with. I would never put you in an uncomfortable situation, and I wanted to be honest with you.”
“I appreciate that,” Belle sighed. “Wait a second, did Tyler ask for me when he spoke to my manager? Is that how I got the job?”
“Kind of,” Simon admitted. “He described the type of agent I was looking for, and made sure that description fit you.”
“And here I thought you hired me because I was good at what I do,” she declared, raising her voice again.
“You are, you absolutely are. You’re terrific at what you do,” Simon stated firmly. “I wouldn’t have taken you on if you weren’t. Think about it. Do you really believe, even for one second, I would have hired you had I not been impressed?”
Belle didn’t respond, choosing instead to stare at the world whizzing by.
“You haven’t answered my question. Do you?”
“No, I don’t think you would have hired me if I was just a bit of fluff,” she finally replied. “It’s all still weird though.”
“Well, my dear, you need to get past your weirdness. Tyler is my best friend and we’ll be spending time with he and his wife, probably as soon as early next week. We can’t do that if you’re being weird.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll get past it.”
“If you need me to, I can always spank it out of you,” he offered with a grin.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll be okay, but I do thank you for the offer,” she answered facetiously.
Reaching across, he grabbed her fidgeting hand and brought it to his lips.
“Good girl. It’ll be fine, you’ll see,” he said patiently. “I promise.”
The car zipped along, a CD playing as the miles sped by, and Belle donned a baseball cap she found in the glove compartment to keep her hair under control. The wind and freeway noise was significant, and Simon finally pulled over to close the convertible top. Once in they were back on the road, her cap off, her hair brushed, Belle turned off the music.
“I think I need to tell you something that happened today. Something quite startling.”
“Really? What was that?” Simon asked intrigued.
“I was involved with a young man when I was here. His name was Furio, and he was the son of an Italian diplomat.”
“What about him?”
“Shockingly, I ran into him. He was in the cafe this morning.”
“You’re kidding?”
“I’m not. It was really incredible to see him again. He’s married now, and really happy, but it was so strange. Almost as if it was fated for some reason.”
“That is strange. Was he important to you?”
Simon was feeling something odd in the pit of his stomach, something uncomfortable.
“Yes, very. I was in love with him, well, I was just a teenager, so not an adult love, and he was my first.”
“Your first?”
The feeling in his stomach was growing, gnawing, turning upside down.
“As luck, or fate if you want, would have it, Furio was like you. A Dominant I mean, and really kind and gentle, so it was a great experience, and I knew from the very beginning that I–”
“Hold on. Stop. You’re telling me you had coffee with the man who took your virginity? You had coffee with him this morning?”
“Yes. What’s the matter?”
Simon was at a loss. How could he explain a feeling he had never before experienced?
“Honestly, I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s just not sitting well with me.”
“It was completely accidental. I had no idea I’d run into him. None whatsoever.”
Simon fell silent, and Belle, worried, had no idea what to say.
“Should I not have told you?” she finally asked. “It was absolutely meaningless. I mean, it was great to see him, but I–”
“I’m just having a hard time thinking about you with another man,” Simon blurted out.
“But earlier you were talking about some guy I went out with, like it was nothing.”
“Some guy is not a boy you were in love with who took your virginity, who is now a man, and you had coffee with a few hours ago,” Simon exclaimed impatiently.
“When you put it like that, I see your point,” Belle cringed, then it dawned on her. “Wait, are you telling me you’re jealous?”
Simon slowed the car and pulled it to a stop on the side of the road.
“It’s the oddest thing,” he frowned. “I think I am. I’ve never been jealous in my entire life. Not about anyone or anything.”
“Wow, that’s amazing,” Belle remarked, raising her eyebrows.
He rubbed his temples, then stared at her.
“I’m sorry, Belle, that was ridiculous. I should be happy you ran into someone so important from your past, and even happier that you felt you c
ould tell me.”
“It’s okay. I’m kind of flattered that you got all, ha, there’s that word I can apply to you now. Weird. You got all weird on me.”
He stared at her for a moment, and Belle sensed he was trying make up his mind about something.
“What is it?” she pressed. “I mean, it seems as if we’re on a roll. Just tell me.”
“Very well,” he sighed, confirming her suspicions. “When we were spending time together in Beverly Hills, I kept thinking about how you were getting under my skin–”
“I was?” she interrupted.
“Yes, don’t interrupt,” he glowered at her.
“Sorry.”
“Anyway, the word that kept coming into my head, the word that described how I felt, that word was bewitched. You’ve bewitched me, Belle Somers. Completely bewitched me.”
“What a wonderful thing,” she smiled. “I’ve bewitched Simon Sinclair.”
“Come over here,” he demanded, reaching out his arms.
Crawling across the console, she laid her head against his shoulder, surrendering to his enveloping arms.
“You are truly the most marvelous girl,” he crooned.
Lifting her face, she brought her lips to his, and he kissed her back, warmly sternly, gently and strongly, searching and probing, his mouth communicating the depth of his caring.
“Wow,” she breathed as they broke apart. “That was a kiss I’ll remember the rest of my days.”
He just smiled down at her, and starting the car, pulled back on to the highway.
Belle settled back in her seat, buckling up, and Simon turned the music back on. The emotional and personal speed bumps had served to bring them closer, uniting them in a common desire to understand each other, and share their mutual truths.
“I should warn you, my office never sleeps and I may get phone calls while we’re down here. I’ll only take the important ones, of course.”
“Nothing I didn’t expect,” she replied. “You didn’t build your empire by taking weekends off. Even in my little business I was 24/7. Sometimes, in the middle of a deal, I’d just turn off my phone. It becomes too much, people think they own you, calling at all hours.”
“Sometimes I turn off my phone too,” he smiled. “Not often, but sometimes. There’s a new laptop in the trunk that has your name on it, so if I get busy and you find yourself at odds you can jump online. It’s a MacBook Pro, like the one you were using back in Beverly Hills.”
“Simon, thank you!” she exclaimed. “That’s fantastic.”
A few miles on, Simon swung off the main highway and followed a twisting turning road through the lush and scenic countryside, finally turning through an open gate, into a driveway lined either side with tall trees. Looming ahead she saw a magnificent three story, stone house, every bit as impressive as she imagined it would be. Parked to one side was a sedan and jeep. He pulled the Bentley up to the steps and switched off the engine.
“Here we are,” he announced proudly.
“My gosh, Simon, I feel as if I’ve stepped back in time. Except for the cars, of course.”
“Chef came up this afternoon, and don’t worry, after he’s finished with dinner he and his two assistants head off to a cottage on the grounds. The house will be ours.”
“I can’t wait to see inside,” she enthused.
“Then let’s,” he grinned, and popping the trunk, he stepped from the car, grabbed their cases, and led her up the steps to the huge, centuries-old, carved wooden door. It creaked on its hinges, and the entry way, with its stone floors, high ceilings and mammoth tapestries, told her she was standing in history.
“It’s very old and very new. I had some important changes made which you’ll learn about soon,” he declared, leading her through a gothic dining hall and into a passageway, and turning left, Belle saw what appeared to be an old french lift.
“Seriously,” she laughed.
“When I realized I had to have an elevator installed, I couldn’t stand the thought of a modern steel thing, so I had some dealers hunt around for something special, and they found this.”
“You are truly the most amazing man,” she sighed, staring at the magnificent piece of antiquated machinery.
“It’s extremely reliable. The company that refurbished it upgraded its mechanics significantly,” he boasted, pulling the door aside. “Let’s go up.”
Placing the suitcases inside, he pushed the button for the third floor, and slammed the door shut. The lift clanged softly, began to rise, then slowly came to a stop.
“It’s so gentle,” she smiled. “Far cry from City View.”
He laughed at her observation, and turned right down the carpeted hallway towards the door at the very end. When he ushered her inside, Belle took two steps in before stopping in her tracks.
“This is like something out of a movie,” she gasped. “The windows, the fireplace, this bed.”
“Everything is authentic. The bed is from the 17th Century, and all the furniture comes from the same era. There was a great deal in the house that has remained through the centuries. Even him,” Simon remarked, gesturing towards a large portrait hanging above the fireplace.
“Simon, he looks just like you!” she exclaimed.
“When I was looking for my country house, there were others that were, well, I won’t say better, but more modern, upgraded and so on, but I bought this house because of him, and the price, though I would have paid much more because of that painting.”
“Do you know who he is?” she asked.
“Yes. This estate is a Duchy, and was owned by the family for generations. That man is an ancestor of the family. I suppose he must be the great-great grandfather of the current Duke,” he explained. “They lost possession of the estate because of some investment that went horribly wrong. They lost everything, had to auction off this house, and when I came in here and saw that painting, I felt a great need to own this place.”
He seemed suddenly very sombre and reflective, and stepping beside him, she let their arms touch and curled her fingers around his.
“May I ask why?” she queried softly.
“Because I am adopted, Belle,” he explained, turning to face her, “and I think I’m looking at a man to whom I may be related. Perhaps, in this house, I have come home.”
Goosebumps popped up on her skin. She stared up at the elegant aristocrat, then back at Simon, and a shivering chill rippled down her spine. He put an arm around her.
“I know,” he said, hugging her. “Me too.”
You have to take me on a proper tour before we go to bed,” Belle insisted as they polished off an early dinner. “I want to see everything.”
“I intend to,” he agreed, “as soon as we finish our blueberry crumble and coffee, and it will begin with the most important room in the house.”
“Oooh, I can’t wait,” she replied enthusiastically. “This pie is delicious,” she added, taking another large spoonful.
“I don’t know why, but the food here tastes so much better than in town,” Simon commented.
“Probably the fresh air,” she smiled. “Whatever it is, you’re right.”
A short time later the plates were cleared, and Simon stood up and stretched.
“It’s time,” he announced. “Prepare yourself.”
“I’m definitely prepared,” she grinned. “Deliver me where you will.”
Taking her hand he led her through the wide corridors, past the medieval suit of armor and giant tapestries that graced the walls, to the ornate French elevator, and once inside with the door closed, he withdrew a key from his pants pocket, and placed it in a lock on the control panel, turning it to the right. The lift announced its understanding with a deep clang and began to descend.
“But we’re on the first floor,” Belle said alarmed.
“There were dungeons here, and still are,” he grinned.
Seconds later, when the elevator stopped and he opened the door, Belle stepped forward int
o what appeared to be a cavern lit only by the light of the lift. Simon moved around her and flicked a switch on the wall, and a wrought iron, multi-candled chandelier, illuminated the large space in a soft amber glow. She stared in disbelief at the large, empty room, and while the floor was soft beneath her feet, the carpet thick and full, the walls appeared to be the original stone, cold and unforgiving.
“Simon,” she whispered. “This is creepy and sexy and wild!”
“This is nothing,” he chuckled. “Follow me.”
Leading her through the barren space, he stopped at a large door, its wide, horizontal metal braces reflecting the chandelier’s diffused glow. A large, broken chair was laying nearby, and he pulled it upright. To her astonishment he lifted up the seat.
“I have quirky ideas,” he grinned. “I doubt anyone could get down here, but I don’t think they’d look for a key inside the seat of what appears to be an old broken chair, even if they did.”
The key was large, metal and black, and he slipped it into the keyhole, turning it several times. The door creaked open, and reaching in he flicked on the light, ushering her forward.
“Oh–my–God,” she muttered.
The room was huge, and filled with various items of BDSM equipment, from padded horses to bondage chairs. A king-sized bed was set at the far end, large bookcases on either side, and the walls were adorned with various racks offering crops, floggers, shackles and paddles. A hefty dining table rested against one wall, and she saw a small kitchen off in a corner.
“I don’t know quite what to say,” she stammered.
“This is why I had the elevator installed,” he told her. “I put this place together with three of my very best friends from college, one of whom was Tyler, by the way. We didn’t want workers or delivery men coming down here, so we had the equipment delivered to different addresses around London, and drove it down here ourselves. Most of the pieces were too heavy or big to carry down the stairs, so we put them in the elevator, and you should also know, it’s completely soundproof in here, my dear,” he proclaimed with a wicked smile, “we can make all the noise we want.”
The British Billionaire Bachelor, Act Two Page 8