“It was a night I’ll never forget,” she sighed, “and one I would love to repeat at any time. It was like a dream, a decadent, luscious, incredible dream. There wasn’t a single second I didn’t absolutely, positively love. Does that answer your question?”
Shifting his eyes from the road for a split second, he flashed his gaze across to her and saw the sparkling truth.
“For me too,” he sighed. “For me too.”
Reaching across the console, he reached for her hand, and entwining their fingers he raised it to his lips.
“Looking for a second home in Beverly Hills is the smartest thing I ever did,” he proclaimed.
“I beg to differ,” she responded. “Hiring me was the smartest thing you ever did.”
Breaking into a wide grin, he remarked,
“Because you’re the cheekiest girl I ever met.”
“That would be true!” she laughed.
“Now I must do something rather tragic,” he announced, releasing her hand.
“What?”
“Turn on my phone.”
“Yes, that is tragic,” she agreed.
Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his tiny earpiece, and pushed some buttons on the dashboard screen. A voice announced the phone was switching to his headset.
“Lord, seventeen voicemails,” he grimaced.
“Price of being a billionaire,” she declared.
Staring at the world buzzing by, she felt the tender reminder of their night as she shifted in her seat.
I don’t know why I love this crazy submissive thing, but I do, I just absolutely love it.
“Parker, meet me at the Pemberton building, southeast corner, in fifteen minutes. You’re picking up Belle and taking her home. I have to go directly to my office.”
“Bummer,” she said turning to face him.
“Yep. I’m only two hours late getting back,” he grinned. “Just don’t have the luxury of going home with you, getting changed and kissing you goodbye at the doorstep.”
She watched and listened to him returning his many calls, fascinated by his ability to cajole, bark, issue orders, and speak in the financial language she didn’t understand. He was sharp and cut to the point, and by the time he was pulling off the motorway, he informed her he had only one call left to make and it would wait until he was back on the road. Rolling through the parking lot, he stopped under the shade of some trees to wait for Parker, and turned to face her.
“This has been a hell of a ride,” he remarked.
“I assume you’re talking about us,” she remarked.
“Everything. Meeting you, our time in Beverly Hills, saving you from Sean Harrington, making the impulsive decision to ask you to come here with me and how incredible it’s been, and after years searching, finding my father on my driveway and discovering my heritage. I’m a blasted Duke. I still can’t believe it. Belle, you’ve brought all kinds of brilliance into my life.”
Before she could say anything, he leaned forward, and holding the back of her head gently, touched her lips with his. Pressing forward, he kissing her ardently, sending her all the love he felt in his heart.
“Belle,” he breathed, moving his mouth to her ear, “please stay here with me. Don’t go back,” silently adding, not ever.
“I won’t, I promise,” she replied, swallowing back tears of joy, silently adding, not ever.
When Parker dropped her at the house, she carried in her large handbag while one of the young footmen grabbed her suitcase and laptop, and followed her up in the elevator. Without Amaranth lurking around she felt liberated and much more at home. The footman left her suitcase by the bedroom door, and placed the laptop on the table by the window. As soon as he left she lifted her bag onto the bed and unpacked, placing the clothes to be cleaned to one side, putting away the few remaining items in her closet. The envelope that Amaranth had left leaning against the vase on top of the island had slipped down, so it missed Belle’s attention completely.
Finished with her chore, she decided to finally check her emails and ambled back to the living room. Sitting down in front of her new computer, she lifted the lid and waited for it to power up.
Peering out into the day, she glanced up at the sky, recalling the conversation Simon had shared with Bert Walker about the changing seasons. It was one of the things she had truly enjoyed when she’d lived in London as a teenager, believing that seasons in Los Angeles were virtually nonexistent, just varying shades of sun. While most people loved it, she was tired of the endless blue skies, no clouds to speak of and 75 degrees on Christmas Day. She was excited about the coming winter, looking forward to cozy nights in front of the fire with Simon, while rain or snow or even sleet blasted cold outside.
Sighing deeply, knowing she could no longer postpone the inevitable, she opened up her email account and found 324 messages. She couldn’t believe it.
I think I need some coffee to get through this lot, she decided, and picking up the phone, dialed the kitchen asking for a thermos to be sent up.
In her office, Amaranth was nervously pacing. She knew Belle had returned, she knew she would have opened the envelope by now, and she was beside herself with joy.
I wish I could see your face. I’ll bet you’re packing right now. I’ll bet your scurrying around like a mouse being chased by a big fat cat. I’ll bet you’ve already called a taxi.
Unable to stand the suspense, Amaranth called one of the footmen and asked if Belle had requested transport.
“No, Amaranth. Not to my knowledge. Would you like me to do so?”
“No, not necessary. Thank you.”
Too soon. She’s probably deciding what to take with her. Probably looking for a big suitcase to stash her loot. Not if I have any say about it. Maybe I should go up there. Yes, that’s exactly what I should do. Stop her before she can take off with everything. I’ll put that trollop in her place.
Feeling empowered and in control of the world, Amaranth walked into her bathroom to freshen up, dust her face with powder, and make sure she’d not a hair out of place before starting up to the suite. The trollop had to be shown how a real lady appeared.
Belle was in the midst of deleting and downloading her emails when a gentle knock at the door told her the coffee had arrived, and she smiled as Theresa rolled in the cart.
“Didn’t know if you were hungry, Miss Somers, but our pastry chef has just finished baking these amazing cinnamon, apple, walnut things. I just had to bring you some, and I also brought tea in case you changed your mind and wanted that instead. I do that sometimes, think I want coffee, then suddenly want tea.”
“Theresa, how thoughtful, thank you. It looks like there’s something else as well.”
“Yes, Miss Somers. French toast. Wasn’t sure when you had breakfast and it’s almost lunch time, so I had chef whip that up for you. He makes incredible French toast.”
“I’m going to have to be very careful or I’ll end up looking like a large panda bear,” Belle exclaimed.
“I don’t think that will happen,” Theresa giggled, rolling the cart forward. “Did you find the envelope Amaranth left for you?”
“What? No. I didn’t see any envelope.”
“She left it on the island in your dressing room. Shall I fetch it?”
“That’s strange, I didn’t see anything there,” Belle replied, standing up and heading into the bedroom.
Leaving the cart, Theresa followed, wondering if Amaranth had returned and removed it.
“Oh, it fell down,” Theresa declared, seeing it laying flat. “She left it leaning against the vase.”
“Thanks for mentioning it. Could have sat there all day.”
“Shall I set the table for you?”
“I appreciate you bringing up all the food, but I did have a late breakfast, so as delicious as it all sounds just leave the thermos of coffee,” Belle smiled, tearing open the envelope, “and the tea. You might be right. I could change my mind, speaking of which, that French toas
t and those pastries do sound tempting. Okay, leave it all,” she laughed, pulling out the contents of the envelope. “What the–?”
“Are you all right, Miss Somers?”
Belle was standing, staring at the threatening toxic message.
“You’re sure Amaranth left this?” she asked, her gaze still fixated on the paper.
“Yes. She didn’t see me, I was hiding,” Theresa confessed.
“Why were you hiding?” Belle asked confused.
“I probably shouldn’t say this, but she scares me. I was in the salon making sure everything was nice for your return, and I heard the living room door open. I came out, and as soon as I saw it was her I ran back and hid behind the curtains. She didn’t see me, thank goodness.”
Belle was still staring at the in her hand, shaking her head, then placing it face down on the island, scanned the photocopied pages and photographs.
“My diary. I can’t believe it! She stole my diary, and she followed me. This is absolutely insane. She’s insane.”
A sick, dizzy feeling washed through her, and for a moment she thought she was going to faint. Theresa, having stepped back to give her privacy, raced forward, grabbing her arm.
“Miss Somers, are you all right?” she asked urgently, then saw the photographs and immediately dropped her gaze. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s okay, Theresa. You’re not,” Belle replied, trying to gather her wits. “These are just pictures of an old friend I ran into. They’re perfectly innocent. Amaranth is mad. Completely mad. Look at this,” she finished, picking up the nasty note with the pasted words and handing it to her.
“This is dreadful!” Theresa exclaimed. “Simply dreadful. Miss Somers, I should probably tell you something.”
“Let’s go in the other room. I need to sit down and think,” Belle declared, stuffing the distasteful papers back into the envelope.
“What are you going to do?” Theresa asked urgently.
“First, have that cup of tea instead of the coffee, and second, listen to what it is you have to tell me.”
Sighing deeply, holding on to the envelope, Belle moved back into the living room, settling on the couch while Theresa poured the tea.
“Have one yourself,” Belle offered. “I think, under the circumstances, Mr. Sinclair wouldn’t mind at all.”
“Thank you, I could use one,” Theresa replied gratefully.
“Now talk to me,” Belle said firmly.
“It was when I first started. Amaranth had called for something to eat, and I was rolling the tray down the hallway. I’d gotten lost, and when I finally found her office I knocked but she wasn’t there. Apparently she was tired of waiting so she’d gone looking for me. The door was open so I thought I’d just leave the food and go. I went in, and...”
Theresa paused, handing the tea to Belle, then sipped her own, and Belle could see she was having second thoughts about sharing her secret.
“Considering what that woman has just done, Theresa, I don’t believe she deserves loyalty from any of us, and you can be sure she will be out of here very quickly once Mr. Sinclair sees this,” she finished, waving the envelope dramatically.
“Thank you for saying that. It is awkward,” Theresa sighed.
“It’s all right, but you must tell me, what was it you saw?”
“There was this book. It was a big kind of album, or scrapbook, and it was open. I didn’t open it, honestly,” she added quickly, “and it was all photos and newspaper articles of Mr. Sinclair, and written in the margins and in the empty spaces, over and over again, was Mrs. Amaranth Simington-Sinclair. It was really creepy. I didn’t know what to do.”
“I’m sure. If she’d come back... so what did you do?” Belle asked completely intrigued.
“Exactly. I knew I had to get out of there, so I pushed the cart out, walked back down the hallway and waited. When I heard her coming I started towards the office again, like I was just arriving.”
“Very smart,” Belle smiled.
“She gave me a serious rollicking for being so late.”
“Rollicking?”
“Told me off. Really yelled at me. I’ve avoided her ever since. I think she’s, how do I say this, I don’t think she’s very stable.”
“No kidding,” Belle declared. “If I had any doubts I certainly don’t anymore! Thank you for telling me what you saw. It’s very important. It all makes sense now.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Finish my tea and think about it.”
“If you need me for anything, just call down and I’ll come running,” Theresa promised.
“You’re a very sweet girl. Thank you. I really need to talk to Mr. Sinclair about this. I probably shouldn’t do anything until I can. Oh, before I forget, would you take my cleaning while you’re here?”
“Yes, Miss Somers, of course.”
Finishing her tea, Theresa made her way back into the closet, and Belle opened the envelope and pulled out the papers to look at them carefully. She was staring at the photocopies of her diary entries when there was a knock on the door, and to her shock, Amaranth waltzed in.
“Welcome back, Miss Somers. I hope you had a very happy weekend away,” silently adding, it will be your last one, and oh, look, I see you found your little present. Why aren’t you packing?
In the bedroom, to her horror, Theresa heard Amaranth’s voice. For a moment she froze, then quietly laying down the clothes, crept close to the door to listen.
“I did, thank you, Amaranth,” Belle replied, keeping her voice even.
“I see you found the envelope that was delivered. I trust, uh, everything is all right. The courier mentioned it was urgent.”
Belle stared at the wicked woman, and in spite of everything in her screaming to be quiet, to stay calm, not to do or say anything provocative, she couldn’t help herself.
“Amaranth, you are a very foolish woman. Do you really think, for one moment, I don’t know this was your doing?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she protested.
“When Mr. Sinclair sees this, you’ll be the one that’s out of here, but unlike the suggestion in your poisonous note here, it will be in less than 24 hours I can assure you.”
Amaranth felt the blood rush to her temples. This was not the way it was supposed to go. This trollop was supposed to be packing, she was supposed to be in tears, upset, completely beside herself.
“You’re wrong!” Amaranth hissed. “Simon Sinclair and I are destined for each other. You’re just another one of his sluts and that evidence will prove it. He’ll kick you out on your ear, just as you deserve. Believe me, he’s had plenty of sluts in his bed. You’re just another notch on his bedpost.”
The words stung. Though Belle knew Simon had been a playboy his entire life, the reality of so many other women in the same bed she now shared with him, made her stomach lurch.
“HA!” Amaranth blurted out. “See, see, you know I’m right. You’d better get packing right now.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Belle proclaimed standing up.
“Oh no? Then I’ll just make sure you do! Permanently.”
Charging forward, Amaranth grabbed a knife from the trolley, and holding it threateningly in front of her, started forward.
“What are you doing?” Belle cried. “What, do you think you’re going to kill me?”
“If that’s what it takes,” Amaranth snarled.
Oh my God. She means it. She actually wants to kill me.
“You’re not going to do anything to her,” Theresa yelled running in from the bedroom.
Amaranth darted forward, and lifting her leg landed a perfect kick into Theresa’s stomach. Theresa buckled over, and with alarming expertise, Amaranth grabbed her, flipped her around, and placing her in a chokehold with the knife at her chest.
“One of the many things I learned at my very private, exclusive school,” Amaranth proclaimed. “Self-defense. It’s importa
nt for the children of extremely wealthy men. Now, do exactly as I say or you’re both dead.”
“Fine,” Belle breathed, trying not to sound as terrified as she was. “Whatever you want. Just don’t hurt her. She’s got nothing to do with this.”
“She does now. Go to the bar.”
Bewildered by the order, Belle hurried across the room and pushed the bookcase, opening up the liquor cabinet.
“Take out the vodka.”
Thank you, God, Belle prayed. She thinks she’s going to poison me.
“Now pour yourself a big glass and take it your dressing room.”
Picking up a crystal goblet, Belle filled it halfway.
“To the top. The whole glass. NOW!” Amaranth barked.
“Don’t do it, Miss,” Theresa cried. “There’s probably something in it. Don’t do it.”
Amaranth grabbed her hair, pulling it harshly.
“Another word and this knife goes through your ribs. Got it?”
“Y-y-yes,” Theresa stammered, trying to control the intense fear ripping through her soul.
“There,” Belle announced, trying to take Amaranth’s focus away from Theresa and on to herself. “It’s full, and I’m walking to the closet.”
“Make it snappy,” Amaranth snarled.
Quickening her pace, Belle made her way to the bedroom and entered the closet, with Amaranth holding Theresa firmly around the throat, following her. Glancing around the room Amaranth spied Belle’s handbag.
“Your cell phone. Get it out of your bag and throw it to me.”
Placing the glass of vodka on the center island, Belle fished in her bag, retrieving her new iPhone, and suppressed her smile at the sight of T-Rex sitting in its little compartment.
It’s very good to see you, old friend. Looks like you’re about save the day again.
“Here,” she stated, lifting the iPhone in the air, and kneeling down, slid it across the floor.
“Now drink. Go on, drink the whole thing.”
That should do you in. There’s enough Ambien in there to kill an elephant.
“Don’t do it,” Theresa cried.
“What did I tell you?” Amaranth screeched, and with lightening speed, closed her fist and punched the girl in the stomach. Theresa fell forward, but Amaranth grabbed her by the hair and held the knife at her throat. “Drink, slut, drink, or I swear to God, she gets it.”
The British Billionaire Bachelor, Act Two Page 15