“You're kidding, right? A blindfold. Am I about to go hit a piñata?” I snarled. My patience was non-existent.
The captain only blinked, and nodded towards the blindfold once more. I could tell this was going to be one of those mornings. “Okay hand it over, Greybeard,” I growled.
The next mile or so was the most excruciating. I was being led off the dock, that much I knew. I could also hear the roar of airplanes getting steadily louder. Otherwise, I was being lead, completely blind, by people I had never met to a destination that was apparently in the middle of a rain forest.
I cursed as the point of my heel sunk into a muddy patch of earth, and then I heard the snap. “Aurgh!” I shouted, crying internal tears. “Those were Christian Louboutin! Christian Louboutin!” I insisted. I could feel my escorts’ rough hands push me along, unconcerned that I had just broken my favorite pair of shoes, ones that had been given to me as a gift by my ex after I won my Pulitzer. They had emotional value! Not because of my ex obviously, it was because they were $2,000 shoes, and who couldn't get emotional about that? “You people are monsters!” I said as I felt the ground beneath me change. It was solid now at least, though just a tad too late.
“This Mr. Payne character is really something,” I complained. “He's got me blind-folded, stumbling through a forest. I was molested by one of the sailors at the dock! My shoes are ruined and my hair is a mess.” I said, losing resolve with each word. I felt hot, hopeless, and hideous. Was I about to start my period? That would be the icing on the proverbial cake of this horrible morning. Suddenly all my rage zeroed in on a single target. “When I see that pig Ian Payne I'm really going to give him a piece of my mind,” I hissed.
“I would much prefer the whole thing. Trust me, you'll need it,” a melodic voice answered as my blindfold was carefully removed.
“Mr.. Payne,” I smiled weakly.
“Hello Ms. Potters,” he said, smiling that 1,000-watt smile. All the apprehension and anger in me evaporated. Only moments ago I felt like a wounded dog. How did he do that?
“I apologize for the inconvenience, and wish I could have prepared you more adequately for your morning experience. Unfortunately, this is a necessary precaution I must take,” Mr. Payne explained.
“I understand,” I said. “Your driver told me about your last assistant.”
Mr. Payne frowned. “Oh did he now? Bill loves telling my staff old horror stories. He didn't scare you out of the position did he? Remember you can resign at any time Ms. Potters. I don't want you to feel as though you are obligated to this position.”
I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Of course I wasn't obligated, I also wasn't going to back down. “No, of course not. I'm excited to start working,” I said with a courteous smile. He wasn't the only one who could play pretend.
“Great. Then let's get going, shall we?” he said, looking into my eyes with his. They were so piercing. Suddenly my footing felt more uncertain.
“Go where?” I asked.
“Up,” he said simply, pointing towards an empty helicopter. We were on a helicopter pad, I finally realized. A big yellow H was painted on the concrete below.
“Well where's the pilot?” I pointed out. It was nice to know that Mr. Payne could forget something, that he was human.
He smiled. “You're looking at him,” he said, and hopped into the driver's seat.
'Why am I not surprised...' I thought as I climbed into the passenger side.
Mr. Payne pushed several buttons on the mind-boggling dashboard of the helicopter. The great, mechanical beast roared to life, the blades above gyrating powerfully. I could feel the vibrations travel down into the leather seat. They sent a chill down my spine. I felt wet, though it could have just been my period. I was too embarrassed to check now, what if he saw me? It would have to wait.
“Where did you learn to fly?” I asked, attempting to distract myself from the warmth of the seat, from the gentle vibrations that were sending a tingling sensation down my thighs. My stomach lurched as the helicopter lifted from the ground. It was a gentle transition, but I had never been on a helicopter. I could barely handle planes.
Mr. Payne glanced at me, and then back outside. “My mentor. It's not as difficult as it looks. Taking off and landing are the tricky parts, but once you're in the air, a child could do it.” He looked at me again, his eyes lingering too long. He was rugged for a billionaire, with thick forearms and a square jaw coated in stubble. His blue eyes sparkled in the morning sunlight. It was an inviting face, a friendly one. It was just an illusion. I reminded myself. A mask. That was the face Ian wore for the world. “Would you like to give it a try?” Ian asked, nodding to a joystick.
My eyes went wide. “No, no, no. I think you've got a pretty good handle on things. Being a passenger is hard enough.”
Mr. Payne's smile almost looked mischievous. “No, really Ms. Potters, I insist. It's simple. Here, come use mine,” he jostled the joystick in front of him.
'That's not really the joystick I'm interested in,' I thought. The idea had come so fast that I hadn't had time to stifle it, to filter or alter the thought. It had come completely from my subconscious. It was just attraction, I told myself. Perfectly normal. He was a good looking man, and powerful, but that didn't mean I had to act on the impulse. It was control that drew the line between human and animal. I simply had to control myself. “Really Mr. Payne, I would prefer not. I've already had enough adventure for one afternoon.”
He must have sensed the apprehension in me, because he stopped pushing for it, though he did look slightly disappointed. The look on his face made me feel a twinge of guilt. I wanted to make him happy. I slapped myself mentally. 'Get a grip,' I thought. Those schoolgirl emotions were running rampant again. I had to admit though, soaring thousands of feet in the air next to that beautiful, powerful man, on the way to an estate that had never once fallen under the public eye, I felt a euphoria like I hadn't in ages.
* * *
The interviewer stopped scribbling on his notepad and looked up. “You stopped. Why?” he asked.
I had lulled myself into a daydream, a fond recollection. I breathed deeply. “Sorry. It's just that I had forgotten what else happened on that helicopter, until now,” my stomach melted to the warm memory. It made my heart ache dully, and the steely emotional armor slowly fall apart.
“Was it something bad? Do you need a break Ms. Adams? Don't be ashamed to say so.”
I shook my head. “No, it's not bad. As a matter of fact, Mr. Payne had quite a sweet side, believe it or not.”
The interviewer looked confused. “I thought you said he betrayed you?”
I hesitated. “Well he did, but, I don't know, it's more complicated than that.”
The interviewer examined me for quite some time. He looked at me as if I was an alien. “So Mr. Payne had begun to develop some serious feelings for yo-,” he paused. “For Ms. Potters.” He made no attempt to mask the disbelief on his face. It was so judgmental that it was all I could do not to reach over and slap him. Then I realized he had every right to feel that way. It was an impossible story. Sometimes I hardly believed it. Even now it seemed more like a distant dream than a memory. It was only the pain that reminded me it wasn't. No dream could hurt so exquisitely. Until now, I had believed it was Ian's fault. That he was the source of the pain. The more I told my story however, the less I believed that. I felt lost.
“Yes. There was a period when he would tell me he loved me on a regular basis,” I said, ashamed. How had I let things get so out of hand?
“I see...” the interviewer said, a smirk lingering on the corner of his mouth. He was already counting up the dollars he was going to make on this story. It made me nauseous. All of it did. “How did all of this come about?” the interviewer asked. “Was it your intention to seduce Mr. Payne?”
There was the question again; he thought I was some sort of monster. “For the second time, no! The only thing I lied
to Ia- Mr. Payne about was who I was, for the sake of the job. That was it.” I insisted.
“Right, right,” the interviewer said, nodding. “So when exactly did this budding relationship begin?” he asked.
I thought about the question, it was difficult to say. “Well, it started slowly, gradually. I think we were both attracted to each other from the beginning, how it escalated though, that's another story entirely.” I said as the memories overtook me.
* * *
“Here it is,” Ian said as we passed through a tuft of clouds. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he said with a smile. It was breath taking. The massive house was perched on a cliff, overlooking the city. Big bay windows wrapped around the entirety of it. Gated gardens surrounded the house, a rich and verdant green.
“It's very impressive Mr. Payne,” I said, trying to remain poised, professional. What I really wanted to know was where we were. How had Ian kept this place so removed from the public eye? My magazine would have paid a veritable fortune to know the exact location of this house. Suddenly, I understood the blind-fold. Mr. Payne was a clever man. “But where are we going to land?” I asked, realizing there was no airstrip.
“Why on the roof of course,” Ian said, flying dangerously low.
“The r-roof?” I asked, my stomach lurching as Ian narrowly missed a chimney-stack.
“Don't worry, I do this all the time.,” he said.
“Land on your roof?” I asked. The wobbling of the helicopter seemed to indicate otherwise.
“Well, I've seen it done anyway. Usually my pilot does the landing, this will be my first attempt at it.”
“What!” I yelled, the flop in my stomach upgrading to full fledged panic.
Ian laughed. “Relax, my pilot's an idiot, how hard could it be.” Just as he said that, there was a sharp clanking noise, and the helicopter jerked to the right. I watched as a chunk of rubble was thrown from the tail rotor. Ian had clipped the side of his own house. I clung to my seat, praying to god to kill me before Ian saw me throw up on myself. “Oops,” Ian said with a smirk. “I'm going to have some trouble explaining that one to Logan.”
The helicopter had begun to descend all too quickly towards the concrete rooftop. I squeezed my eyes shut, cursing the god who had decided to break my heel and frizzle my hair before killing me, so I would leave behind a hideous corpse. Then I felt the helicopter come to a stop, and the blades began to slow.
“You can open your eyes now, Ms. Potters. We've landed,” Ian said.
I opened them cautiously, thrilled to see the solid ground below. I breathed deeply. “Thank goodness.”
Ian looked at me suspiciously. “I thought you spent 3 months in India flying relief packages in with the Red Cross. Shouldn't you be used to this sort of thing?”
A jolt of panic hit me like a stun gun. I had forgotten about that. Thankfully, I thought fast on my feet. “That was completely different. How many roofs do you think I landed on in India? And everyone I rode with was an experienced pilot, with hundreds of in-flight hours logged. And in the entire length of the 3 months, not one of them crashed into a building.” I remarked.
Ian removed his headset and laughed. “Where's the fun in that?” he said, his curiosity sated.
As I climbed out of the helicopter a new, unfamiliar voice greeted me.
“Finally! Ian I've been looking for you for ages! Where have you been?” the voice belonged to an older man, though not much older, maybe in his mid 40's. He had gray hair slicked back, and wore a blue suit with a black tie. He stood taller than Ian, wider too. He had a barrel chest like a professional wrestler.
“Oh just taking the whirling bird out for a spin. Gotta stretch my legs every once in a while, you know,” Ian said.
Logan scowled. “You realize that your little excursion almost cost us millions of dollars in revenue right? Do you know how difficult it was to convince Mr. Howisaki to invest in our company when the owner of the company itself is busy playing hooky?”
“How difficult?” Ian asked.
Logan hesitated, as if he was in pain. “Five minutes into my presentation they put down 750 million.”
Ian laughed. “See, I knew you didn't need me. I probably would have just been a hindrance.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “Don't play the humble routine, I don't buy it and neither will she.” Logan said nodding to me. “One day though, your luck is going to run out.” Logan warned Ian. He was attempting to be stern, I could tell, but the smile playing on the corner of his lips made it all too obvious the two were good friends.
“Well it's a good thing I never need it then,” Ian retorted with a smirk.
Logan looked me up and down, like a piece of meat; it was mildly offensive. “Who's the girl?” he asked Ian, as if I wasn't there.
Ian looked over, as if he just noticed me for the first time. “Oh, that's Ms. Potters, my new personal assistant.”
Logan nodded. “Ah,” he looked at me once more, I was starting to lose my patience. “She's too pretty for you.” Logan decided. Then he addressed me directly for the first time. “Take my advice sister, run while you still can. Working for this man will put some serious age on you. I was younger than him once.” he said.
I looked from Logan to Ian, horrified.
“He's kidding,” Ian reassured me. “This is Logan Alderman, he's been with Infiniti Inc. since my father started it in the 80's. He's also my mentor, and my friend.” Ian said.
“Well, I'm his mentor at least,” Logan said with a wink.
I laughed.
Logan grasped Ian's neck with a meaty hand, and began leading us towards the door. “Trouble is, nothing ever gets through this thick skull of his,” Logan said, gently rapping Ian on his head.
“If it's any advice from you trying to get through, I'm thankful for it,” Ian retorted.
Logan shook his head as they entered the house. “One day, when I'm dead and gone. You'll realize that everything I told you was true. Only then will you appreciate me.”
“Well then what are you waiting for?” Ian said with a smile.
It was all I could do not to burst into a fit of laughter. When we entered the house my shoe began making a clicking noise, a result of my poor, tattered Pulitzer heels pressing against the marble floor.
Ian noticed it almost immediately. “Oh, when did that happen?” he asked me.
I wanted to say, ‘Around the time you had me blindfolded and pushed through a god-forsaken jungle’. Instead I said, “I'm not sure, I think somewhere on the island,” I smiled, though it was impossible to say how convincing it was.
“Well that just won't do,” Ian said. “I suppose I will have to have Ellie take you into the city to find a suitable replacement.”
“What? No, that's okay. It's not necessary, really,” I said. I was finally in Ian Payne's house, and really wanted to get some snooping done.
“No. I can't have my personal assistant hobbling around all day. Besides, I don't like your dress,” Ian said. He said it so matter-of-fact it caught me off guard.
“I'm sorry?” I said, still a bit in shock.
Logan laughed. “Well, I think that's my cue to leave. Have fun kids,” he said, then disappeared down a long, well lit hallway.
“It's no offense to you. I just don't like teal, it's such a bland color, and you couldn't have known that,” Ian said.
“Um, okay. I'll wear a different one tomorrow,” I said, though all I really wanted to do was strangle him.
Ian ignored my comment. Instead he began dialling a number on his phone.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He raised a finger, the universal sign for be quiet. He had done so like he was my father. I could hear my teeth grinding as I clenched them. It was the only way I could stifle the rude comments building in the back of my throat.
“Wait,” the interviewer said. “I don't understand.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What exactly
was unclear?”
“It's not in Ian's character. At least not in my knowledge. To be so... so dominant,” the interviewer said.
I smirked. “Clearly you don't know him as well as I do.”
“Well elaborate for me.”
I took the diary from his hands and opened it. “No problem,” I said. “All I have to do is finish reading the rest of that diary entry.”
* * *
Entry #12 Continued
“You,” Ian said. “I'm here because I want you.”
His words made my body pulsate with pleasure. A tingling warmth spread from my thighs to my stomach, then my lips, and my cheeks. I felt warm, flushed with fever. He stood over me, his cock at eye level; it begun to swell right in front of me.
“And I always get what I want Mr. Potters,” Ian said peeling his sweaty shirt off of him. It fell onto the black marble floor, but my eyes were glued to Ian's body. His powerful chest rose and fell as he ran a hand through my hair, undoing my ponytail with remarkable ease. My hair cascaded around me, hindering my view of his sculpted abdomen. He gently brushed the hair away from my face and stroked my cheek. The action was so tender, so caring; it made my stomach flutter with warmth. “You're my pet,” Ian said. “And pets obey their master. Okay?” he asked.
His eyes smoldered with desire. I could feel the heat from his body, radiating throughout the room. Pulsations of pleasure wracked my body. Suddenly, I felt more aware of myself. I could sense the blood rushing to my lips, my cheeks, and my soaked vagina. I had never been more turned on in my life. I wanted him inside me. I wanted him to break me, like a wild horse. “Okay,” I said with a nod. “I will do whatever you ask me to.” I could hardly believe the words that were coming out of my own mouth, but the thoughts barely registered. It felt as though every interaction, every moment with Ian previous to this one had just been building up to this. Admittedly, I had been attracted to him since the beginning. It had been undeniable. But this was something more. It wasn't just some girlish crush. He was a man, and I a woman. I respected him, understood him, and even adored him. I would have done anything for him. Even be Ms. Potters. It was only Ian that existed, Ian's body and my own, that's all that mattered now.
Rich Man's Deception: Complete Boxed Set Bundle: Billionaire Boss / Corporate Espionage Romance Page 3