Another man holds the door for me and I don't say thank you, telling myself that this is the way it should be. Men are smitten by my good looks. Rhonda looks pissed off, tapping her foot on the asphalt. She is cursing me in her thoughts and doesn’t particularly try to hide it.
“What do you think you're doing, Poppy? This wasn’t our plan at all,” she yells.
Let’s walk and stop shouting in the middle of the street. You're ruining my plan.
We continue walking, going back towards the subway. Jason Packman is going to be mine. I think Dimitrious exaggerated this whole thing about Fallen; Jason seems like a normal guy. I’ll be sure if he is a Fallen once I speak to him face-to-face. Once he lays eyes on me, the deal is done.
“Darling, you don't even know what to expect. I think you should change your attitude,” says Rhonda.
“Who are you to give me that kind of advice?” I stop abruptly, pinning her with my stunning green eyes.
She shakes her head, and her face contracts with anger. “Unless you want me to slap you, Poppy, cut the bullshit. I'm in charge, so you have to listen to me.”
“How old are you? Probably barely in your twenties and you want to give me advice about men? His name is Jason Packman and he works for Properties Direct. This is all I need, Rhonda. This is all Dimitrious needs from me,” I say, angry that he gave me someone like her.
She folds her arms over her chest, giving me one of her murderous looks, but then her body relaxes. She picks up her rucksack and says, “Fine. I’ll leave you to it, Poppy. From now on you're on your own. Don't come crawling back if things go wrong. Dimitrious is giving you a free hand; let’s see what you can do.”
Then she turns around and walks off, leaving me in the middle of the street. I glance around, wondering if Dimitrious is somewhere near, watching me. I wouldn't be surprised if he was, but I can’t see him anywhere. He probably passed the message to her using his thoughts.
Now that I'm free and I can do what I want, I take the subway to one of the high streets and head to the bank. Dimitrious has only given me enough to survive, so I need to forget about expensive clothes and other necessary luxuries. This is going to be a good time to lose a few pounds. The rules are pretty obvious to me and I'm sure that Dimitrious won’t mind if I go shopping and get ready. There is a clear plan in my head, but first I have to buy a blond wig. For as long as I can remember, I've hated my red hair, this ugly colour that doesn’t go with anything. My foster mother refused to buy hair dye for me and kids kept laughing. Dimitrious took away my new appearance, but with a wig and a bit more makeup than usual, I should have the Fallen wrapped around my little finger.
Rhonda is off my case, so I withdraw some money and head to the shop. Despite it being still midmorning, there are a lot of people out on the streets. The wig is a bit pricey, but in order to get the job done, I need to look like my old self. When I twirl around in front of the mirror, the sales assistant gives me an approving nod. I also add a new top to my collection and block thoughts from my head that can be pretty overwhelming.
Next, I find an Internet cafe and manage to do some research about Properties Direct. Jason Packman has impressive portfolios of properties all around London. He buys and sells retail units, apartments and hotels. His company expanded significantly in the past few years. My plan has a few holes, but I'm certain that everything will work out just fine when I demand to speak to him this afternoon. Usually other women and men don't want to get into a conflict with me, so most of the time I get what I want.
It's lunchtime when I'm done and I find a small coffee shop near the subway. I get something small and a hot drink, trying to relax.
The waitress brings the food and I push away thoughts about the past that keep mounting in my head. I had a few good hours for myself and both Rhonda and Dimitrious left me alone; now I just have to prove that Jason Packman is an easy target.
The coffee shop is small and there is a TV above the bar. The waitress brings my sandwich at the same time the news comes on. I take a bite, chewing it until my own face appears on the screen. The food sticks in my throat as I listen to the reporter.
“A young bride has disappeared from her hotel room half an hour before she was supposed to marry John Craftman, an executive of Invest Solution. Jennifer Harrison was seen in her hotel room just minutes before her disappearance. Mr. Craftsman is searching for any information that might be useful to find his fiancée.”
The world around me starts to spin and my breathing comes in short wheezing gasps. No one would recognise me now by looking at that picture from years ago. Then John appears on the screen to give an interview, and my heart pounds in my chest. He looks so handsome and sad, telling the world that he is missing me and would do anything to get me back. I sit there looking around, expecting people to get up and point their fingers at me, but everyone in the coffee shop keeps thinking about their own problems. I push the sandwich away and drink the rest of my coffee, staring gloomily at the television screen. This could have been my life; John and a little baby that I could have had. Dimitrious has taken all this away.
Every part of me is missing John; the way he made me laugh, his charisma and desire to have a family. Why did Dimitrious have to step into my life when everything was falling into place? When I finally found love? I remember John’s number, but I know that I can’t break any rules. Right now I'm chained to my tasks and my old life doesn’t matter any longer.
I get home just after one o’clock, feeling pretty good about myself. Downstairs, one of my neighbours was expecting me to hold the lift for him. I didn't; instead, I hurried back to my apartment. I don't want to pretend to be polite; other people annoy me. One of John’s assistants once asked me why I always looked so miserable. John fired her the next day. These sorts of questions are out of line and she should have known that this kind of talk could get her into trouble.
The apartment seems cold, so I put the heating on and get into the shower. It takes me a while to get ready. My new expensive wig covers all my hair and I know ways of masking out all the freckles on my face. Curtis paid for my nose job and a few Botox sessions, but now my makeup hardly covers any lines under my eyes. I go for a very tight black dress that exposes my curves, curl my wig hair, and put a lot of makeup on. When I stare at myself in the mirror I'm happy with the way I look. Super sexy. The Fallen should be mine. Rhonda is out of my way. If everything goes according to plan, I should be having a romantic dinner with Jason tomorrow. Dimitrious should be proud of me. In a few weeks’ time Jason should be ready for slaughter and I will gain some points in his eyes.
As I grab the keys and my purse, there is a note on my kitchen table and something that looks like a pill.
The pill won’t allow the Fallen to know what you are thinking. Swallow it five minutes before the meeting.
I stare at the letter for several minutes. Fear creeps over my neck and back, twisting my stomach in uncomfortable cramps. Dimitrious was in the apartment, probably when I was in the shower. I put the black pill in the envelope and glance around to make sure that he isn’t really in the apartment. I feel so relieved that I don't have to talk to him before the meeting with Jason. Shaking my head, I put my best heels on and head out. My stomach churns a little, but I calm down. I’ve got to act like I know what I'm talking about. Men love me and there is no reason why Jason won’t, too. I have a degree, for Christ’s sake. But Fallen Angels are some kind of supernatural creature. If he is like Dimitrious, then I might have a problem keeping my nerves on a leash.
Of course now that I'm ordinary and without a car, I have to take the tube. When I know that I'm around common people I can’t seem to block my mind. I hear their thoughts, worries and problems. I don't feel sorry for any of them. My life has been taken away from me, my fiancé and all my money, only because I wanted to get somewhere in life. My two husbands were old and either way, they were going to die. In the end I’ve done them a favour.
When the atrocious journey on the t
rain is done, I'm in the financial district. It's strange that Jason set up the office in such an expensive area, but that is none of my business. I just have to do my job and get out.
My feet are hurting when I walk, but that’s just a sacrifice that I have to make in order to move him with my looks. In the building I spot the same security guard that I spoke to in the morning.
Crap, what if he recognises me?
Five
Confidence is the key to success. My smile should win him over and when I look closer, I see that it’s someone else. Problem solved.
"Excuse me, I would like to see the manager of Properties Direct."
"Please use the lift. It's the last floor; the receptionist will see you through," says the security guard, not even lifting his head from the book he is reading. This is much easier than I expected. I walk to the elevator, making sure that I look professional. The building is elegant, with a perfectly finished interior and large mirror inside the lift. I reach the tenth floor and the doors open up to a large open-plan reception. There, I see a pretty woman behind the desk. She has the same shade of blonde I used to have and absolutely immaculate makeup. This is how I wanted to look all my life, but instead I look common. The room is stylish and it looks like Jason’s company occupies the whole floor. She darts her eyes at me and smiles.
“How can I help you?” she asks, putting her hands together.
“I want to purchase a few properties in London. One of my friends recommended I speak to Mr. Packman. I don't have an appointment, but I thought I could see him quickly.”
My voice is sharp and confident. I lie better if I talk to people face-to-face. I have no idea if Jason sees clients or hired people to deal with these sorts of enquiries. Either way I'm taking a risk here.
She raises her left eyebrow, typing something into her fancy computer.
“Mr. Dawson is a senior consultant. He is available now. Unfortunately Mr. Packman doesn’t see—”
“I'm afraid that I'm only going to deal with Mr. Packman. The business deal that I have in mind is very significant.”
She doesn’t look too happy with me, calling me a stuck-up bitch in her mind. It looks like my Fallen has already fucked her, but she wants more, greedy thing. I shouldn't be surprised. Dimitrious warned me that Fallen do like human women. She tightens her red lips, pinning me down with her green eyes.
“I'm sorry, what’s your name?” she asks.
"Poppy Kowalsky, and please hurry up. I don't like to waste time," I snap at her. She doesn’t say anything; instead she gets up, her jaw tight. She is tall, much taller than me and that’s annoying, but her hips are a bit too wide. No one is ever perfect.
"Please, Miss Kowalsky, have a seat. I’ll see if Mr. Packman would be available to see you," she says in a barely audible voice. Her thoughts flash back to that night in the office when she had sex with him. I don't feel sorry for her. She shouldn't have gotten involved with her own boss, so it's her own fault that she is hopelessly in love with him.
I smooth my hair, knowing that Packman will see me if he wants to keep his business in line. I can be very convincing if necessary. The receptionist is away for a good ten minutes. I lift my eyes off the magazine when the door opens. The girl’s cheeks are flushed and she is hurrying back to her desk. Jason is standing at the door, staring straight at me. I let go of a small gasp, forgetting about my task. He has large crystal-blue eyes, well-defined cheekbones and a heavy jaw. Jason is probably as tall as Dimitrious, and it looks like he works out, unless it's just in the nature of all the Fallen to be well built. His suit is expensive, cut and fitted perfectly to his lean body. I don't know what is happening with me, but all of a sudden I can’t move. A shower of nerve-wrecking lust crawls all over me. I stare at him, parting my lips slightly, feeling my face flush with a sudden dose of heat.
"Miss Kowalsky, I'm Jason Packman, the owner of the business."
His voice sends a long shiver down my back, swirling my thoughts away from things that I need to do. In a matter of seconds he has me crawling at his feet, and I hate that his ambiance affects me so much. His body is illuminated with power and hunger. I get up and feel like I'm going to go down. My knees are weak. Jason smiles and then moves his eyes down, checking me out from head to toe.
"Yes, I would like to talk to you about a business deal," I say in an unsteady voice. His beautiful eyes drift back to mine. When I approach him the scent of his strong cologne crushes my confidence a little, settling a heavy unease in my stomach. He knows that he is attractive and, for the first time in my life, I don't feel like myself.
"Natasha, make me unavailable to anyone for at least an hour," he orders in a cold and calculating voice. The receptionist jumps on her chair, mumbling something under her breath. I try to gather myself, but my heart snaps in my chest, pumping too much blood to my veins.
As he lets me through the door, I inhale his scent. It's soft but intense, reminding me of a sea breeze and earth, pulsing through my body. The room is spacious, filled with small workstations. In each of them there are women and men working. No one looks up at me as we walk past. Jason doesn’t say anything to me until we reach the white door.
I clear my throat just to give myself a bit of encouragement to keep going. He is gorgeous, but a tiny voice in my head reminds me that he might be too dangerous to play with.
"Please, Miss Kowalsky, have a seat," he says, pointing at the red chair in front of his desk. "I'm all yours."
I stand by the door for a few seconds longer than I should, then smile and sit on that red chair, clearing my throat.
“I'm looking to purchase a block of apartments somewhere in London and two retail units with cash,” I say, my voice shaking a little. I have no idea why I haven’t prepared for this a bit better. I know nothing about property prices or the process that needs to be followed, but lies come easy and Jason looks impressed. It’s time to improvise.
He doesn’t respond straight away, watching me with growing curiosity in his eyes.
"What sort of price range are we talking about here, Miss Kowalsky? As my secretary told you, I don't see many clients unless I can make lots and lots of money."
Oh crap, I haven’t even thought about the prices or what type of house I want. The property prices in London are sky high and I can’t just give him some ridiculous amount. Jason Packman is a businessman; he could easily figure out that I have no idea what I'm talking about.
I have a bit of space when he sits behind that large desk, and my breath comes back to normal. The tension rises fast, putting me in a state of unease. Then, unexpectedly he leans over, invading my personal space. His scent overwhelms me yet again, to the point where I can’t think about what I have to do or why I'm here. His eyes move down to my exposed thighs.
"Hmm ... well, obviously we’re talking about millions of pounds here, right? How about you, Mr. Packman, show me your gems—properties that aren’t on the market yet?"
Jason smiles, but surprise flashes in his eyes. But it's long gone before I can figure out if I guessed right. He walks to the shelves next to his desk and selects a brown leather folder. Then he is next to me, placing it in front of me. His body brushes over mine and my heart skips several beats, before it smacks me in the chest sending tingles of energy all over my body. Energy crackles all around us and lust, raw and intense, draws me to this sensual man. Jason looks back at me with that devilish smile as he opens up his special folder. I can’t seem to concentrate on any pictures that he is showing me, thinking about his lips and hands. Images, raw and explicit, start shifting through my mind and I want him to devour me. His thick voice brings me back to reality.
"These are my best apartments in the city that have been renovated to the highest standard, Miss Kowalsky. If you are looking to purchase several, then we might be able to make a deal," he says so close to me that I can feel his breath on my cheek. Normally it's me that has control over a man. I feel drops of sweat gathering on my brow and I inhale, trying to tak
e back the control that I'm used to. We haven’t touched yet, but my body is drenched with pumping desire.
All the apartments are stunning, with price tags that are slowly blowing my mind. Jason stiffens next to me as I accidentally brush my leg against his. The tension penetrates the air, thickening quicker than my racing pulse. He takes one of the pictures and hands it to me so I can inspect it more closely. I drop it on the floor intentionally, thinking about my own game.
"Oh, I'm sorry," I say with a giggle and lean down to pick it up, so he can see my exposed cleavage. I don't even have to look up, knowing that his eyes are drilled down to my body. When our eyes meet again, he burns with desire. I toss my fake hair behind me and smile. "This is very interesting. To be honest, all the apartments are in my style."
"That’s fantastic. So what are you planning to do with the purchase, if you don't mind me asking?"
He catches me off guard here, but I need to come up with something witty; otherwise, I'm screwed.
I run my tongue over my lips and then reply, “I would like to invest. It's a recession and I know the market is unstable, but all the prices will go up at some point. Once I get my hands on these beautiful apartments, I will rent them out.”
"Really? Do you know what kinds of regulations are required, especially in London? Have you got a business partner? I'm certain that a beautiful woman like you can take care of yourself, but it's a big world out there."
I open my mouth to explain myself, but then my voice sticks in my throat and I begin to sweat. All of a sudden the temperature in the room shoots up and I realise the wig wasn’t such a good idea after all. The ache between my legs pulsates with steady beats, and I'm so turned on. Jason is so close that it's almost suffocating. Maybe I went too far with this whole makeup and provocative dress. It can’t be me; he must be doing something to me, using whatever supernatural abilities he has to get me wet.
Sacred Desires (Samuel #1) Page 4