He was unable to move, mesmerized by the sight of her, but even if he’d been able to look away, he had no wish to. She raised her hand in a tiny waving acknowledgement.
It was one of those treasured moments that appears without warning; a stopping of time; a mental photograph capturing a memory destined to live forever.
Thank you for asking me to join you for lunch,” Belle said, hoping that one day she would learn to control the blush that would creep uninvited across her face.
“It’s my pleasure,” Simon replied. “I want you to tell me about the agents who represent the houses we’re seeing. Do you know each of them?”
Immediately the face of Sean Harrington jumped into her head.
“Yes, I do. What would you like to know?”
“How they operate, who is trustworthy and who isn’t, or rather, the level of their honesty. A bit about their backgrounds.”
“Wouldn’t you rather wait until you’ve decided on a house? I mean, if you’re not going to be dealing with them–”
“Miss Somers,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I have bought and sold many properties. Selecting those with whom one works is of paramount importance. The person on the other end of the deal can make a simple deal complicated, or a complicated deal far less so.”
“Oh–yes. I do know what you mean. There are certain agents, my gosh, if I see their names I just keep going.”
“Exactly!” he exclaimed. “So, between mouthfuls of that delicious looking salad, talk to me.”
Oh heavens. You are so dreamy, she thought, staring across the table at him. He was wearing a different blue shirt, but any blue shirt made his eyes even more bedazzling than they already were, and he had a look in them that could only be described as utterly compelling. It was extremely difficult to keep her resolve, and not apologize profusely for her cowardly withdrawal from their arrangement. She longed to beg him to throw her across his lap and spank her soundly for her arbitrary decision.
But it wasn’t arbitrary, she scolded herself. Not at all!
“The first house. What’s the name of that particular agent? What can you tell me about him, or her?”
Belle had an excellent memory and was able to give him rhyme and verse about the agents he’d been meeting, but when it came to Sean Harrington she wasn’t quite sure what to say.
“Why are you hesitating?” Simon asked. “What is it about this chap that concerns you?”
He had noticed the almost indiscernible tightening of her lips, and the drink of water that was clearly an excuse for her to gather her thoughts.
“Sean is a bit of a flirt,” she said, carefully. “He’s kind of a ladies’ man, that’s all.”
“I see,” Simon replied, and he’s given you trouble, he added silently.
“I mean–I’ve never gone through a sale with him so I can only go by what I’ve picked up here and there. I’ve heard he’s good to negotiate a deal with. He must be because he is one of the town’s most successful agents.”
She was feeling increasingly uncomfortable. Sean Harrington had once pinned her in a corner at a Christmas party and she had often wondered what would have transpired if one of her friends had not arrived on the scene when she did. Should she tell Simon? It didn’t seem relevant...and yet...
“Please don’t hold back. If there’s something I need to know...”
“I don’t think so. He made a pass at me once, that’s all, at a Christmas party. It got a bit uncomfortable, but it’s in the past,” she declared, trying her best to fluff it off. “The house he’s handling is an exceptional property. I definitely think you should see it.”
“Very well,” he replied, “and I think I’d like to meet this man.”
Studying her across the table, it was obvious she was uncomfortable talking about Sean Harrington. If nothing else, Simon would make sure the man knew there was a new player in Belle Somer’s life, and she was no longer a young woman to be trifled with.
“Well, it looks as if it’s time for us to make a move,” he announced, checking his watch. “I’m going to wash up. Meet you back here in five minutes.”
“I’ll make sure we have the information on the properties,” she replied, and downing the last of her coffee, hurried to her room to brush her teeth and grab her briefcase.
In his bedroom Simon was also brushing his teeth and running his fingers through his hair. After years of attempting to tame his unruly waves and curls, he had discovered they were best left to their own devices.
He was convinced Belle was still attracted to him. Why had she backed away? He began to wonder if it was related to the purchase of the house. Perhaps she was worried if they became involved and things didn’t work out between them, she would lose the sale. The theory made some sense and if such was the case, he had to admire her sense of self-preservation.
After the deal is done I’ll ask her to dinner, he promised himself in the bathroom mirror, and pleased with his theory, walked out to meet her.
When he entered the living room he found her waiting, half perched on an arm of the overstuffed armchair, her long hair falling around her shoulders, her deep green eyes gazed across him, eyes that seemed to challenge and submit to him in the same instant, and he realized he had been foolish to think he could stop himself pursuing her.
I am bewitched, he thought. No doubt about it.
They made their way down the path and found the limousine waiting by the valet awning, Parker holding the door open. Belle climbed in, and once they were both settled, opened her briefcase, retrieving the paperwork on the first house they would view. She had prepared a dossier on each of the properties, which included the time the property had been on the market and how much it had been reduced over time, how much the current owners borrowed to buy it, and a host of other bits and pieces of information.
“Here’s the package on the first home,” she said, handing him the folder as the car pulled away from the hotel.
Simon took the file and opened it up, scanning and digesting the information quickly.
“Very thorough, Ms. Somers,” he smiled, as he handed it back to her.
“Don’t you want to keep it with you?” she asked.
“Nope–no need. It’s all in my head.”
She raised her eyebrows. There were several pages of figures and dates.
“Really? Wow. That’s impressive!” she exclaimed.
“Not really,” he laughed.
In the front seat Parker glanced at his boss in the rear view mirror. Like Cecil had been earlier, he was surprised. Simon Sinclair did not joke so lightheartedly with those who worked for him. He was a stickler about formalities, and Parker couldn’t help but wonder what kind of spell the lovely Ms. Somers had managed to cast upon him.
Of the first three houses Simon liked only one, but it wasn’t a home run. It would need some work and his preference was something turnkey. As they pulled up to the last house of the day, and Belle handed him the dossier, he took it but did not open the folder.
“You said you like this house,” he remarked, studying her.
“I do, and I think it’s the best priced,” she replied, thinking how Sean was always able to persuade his sellers to price their homes to sell.
“If it’s as you say, and I decide I want it, will you be okay about working with this Sean Harrington character?”
“Absolutely,” she replied, telling herself she could always call on Susan Caldwell if he gave her problems.
Simon was watching her carefully, and though she was trying to appear confident, he wasn’t convinced.
“Let’s take a look then,” he exclaimed, keeping his concerns to himself.
The car drove through the tall, imposing, wrought iron gates, and as the long driveway curved through manicured lawns and impressive spruce trees, he surveyed the grounds, very pleased with what he saw. The grand home appeared before them, the road leading to a portico under which they stopped.
“I like this entrance very much,
” Simon commented, stepping from the car.
The towering, custom-made doors that led into the house were open, and Belle walked in ahead of him, calling Sean’s name. Simon wandered the foyer and scanned his surroundings. From what he could see the house was exactly what he wanted. It was modern without being cold, and professionally decorated in a style that reflected his own.
“Belle,” a voice called, and Simon saw an average looking man dressed in a designer suit with a loud tie, walking briskly towards them, his arms outstretched. Belle started forward, but Simon moved with alacrity, stepping in front of her, extending his hand.
“Simon Sinclair,” he proclaimed.
Sean, thwarted in his attempt to reach Belle, dropped his arms, broke into his best grin, and shook Simon’s hand enthusiastically.
“Great pleasure to meet you,” Sean beamed. “You’ll love this house.”
As Simon studied his shiny face, the words that came to mind were, Shady Used Car Salesman.
“Belle, I left the dossier you prepared in the car. Would you kindly fetch it for me?”
“Yes, of course,” she replied, and walked quickly back to the portico, her heels making crisp clipping sounds on the polished marble floors.
It was only a short distance, and as she stepped outside she glanced over her shoulder. Simon still had Sean’s hand in his grasp, and was bent over, speaking into Sean’s ear. The scene looked odd, but she paid it no mind and retrieved the folder from the car, a little puzzled. Simon hadn’t been interested in the dossier when she had offered it. As she walked back into the foyer, she found Simon standing straight and tall, his hands behind his back, and Sean, usually red-faced with ebullience, appeared rather ashen.
“You’ve seen this home haven’t you, Belle?” Sean asked, his voice lacking its usual bluster.
“Yes, I have.”
“Then why don’t you show Mr. Sinclair around. I, uh, need to check in with my office about something urgent,” he said, backing away, moving towards the opposite side of the house.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
She had shown houses with Sean before and it was all she could do to get a word in.
“Yes, yes. Take your time,” he finished, and turned to scurry away.
“Mr. Sinclair,” she asked quietly, looking up at him. “Did you...?”
“I did nothing. Please show me around. I rather like it,” he declared.
“Yes, Sir. Of course.”
The house was a little over 10,000 square feet, with 6 large bedrooms, 9 bathrooms, a home theatre, two living rooms, gourmet kitchen, a large formal dining room, a sunroom, and grounds offering a fabulous pool, Jacuzzi and entertainment area. It was spotless–Belle didn’t see a mark on a wall anywhere, and the furnishings looked brand new. They returned to the foyer and discovered Sean sitting quietly on a small settee placed against a wall.
“Ms. Somers will be in touch. Thank you for your time,” Simon said crisply polite.
“One more thing,” Belle said, slightly taken aback by her boss’s unexpected and brusque goodbye. “Are your clients interested in selling the furnishings with the house?”
She noticed Simon raise an eyebrow, but ignored it. The information was important.
“The owners had it professionally decorated. It took over a year, but they never lived here. They were about to move in when a villa in the south of France they’d been wanting to buy for a long time became available. They bought it. Just a weird timing thing. So–probably yes.”
Sean had stood up during his explanation, but had made no move towards them. Belle thought it strange indeed. He was always so enthusiastic, shaking hands and giving out hugs like candy to children.
“Thanks, Sean. I’ll call you later.”
“Shall we?” Simon said, gesturing towards the front door.
“Yes, of course,” she smiled up at him, and clipped her way forward across the marble.
The sound of feminine heels on hard floors, Simon thought, following behind her. There’s nothing in the world quite like it.
Simon ordered Parker to drive slowly back down the drive so he could study the landscaping, and once on Sunset Blvd, he turned to Belle, a very serious look on his face.
“I want the house. It’s perfect.”
Belle’s first impulse was to throw her arms around his neck and thank him profusely, but controlling herself, offered instead a broad smile and congratulations.
“I think it’s a super house and very well priced,” she said happily.
“Then let’s make it happen,” he announced.
“Yes, let’s,” she agreed.
“Do you need anything at the hotel?”
“No, I believe I have everything in my briefcase,” she replied, not sure why he had asked.
“Parker–just drop me at the hotel then take Ms. Somers home.”
“Yes, Sir,” the chauffeur replied.
Belle felt her stomach sink. She had thought he might have invited her to dinner to celebrate. Apparently that wasn’t going to happen
As the car traveled the short distance back to the Bel Air Hotel, Belle began chatting about the house, the neighborhood, and anything she could think of to ease the awkward energy that had suddenly fallen between them. When the limousine finally pulled into the hotel driveway, and Simon thanked her and left the car, she was almost relieved. Almost. The drive back to her condo felt very lonely indeed.
The process of securing the house began. The following morning Belle drew up the contracts in her home office, then emailed to Simon for his review and signature. Two hours later they were back in her hands, delivered by a courier. After making sure everything was in order she had them messengered to Sean’s office. She didn’t hear from him for the remainder of the day, but the following morning the negotiations began in earnest, and Belle was summoned to the hotel, not returning to her condo until the early evening.
The same held true for three straight days, as the phone calls and paperwork flew back and forth between the parties involved. The relationship with Simon was all business, though the intense attraction between them was not abating, at least not as far as Belle was concerned, and she would often see a glint in his eye when he glanced at her.
Though she kept telling herself that withdrawing from Simon Sinclair was the safe and sane thing to do, before leaving at the end of each afternoon she couldn’t help but wish he would ask her to stay for dinner. To her dismay he did not, keeping a professional distance. Once home she would throw something nondescript in the microwave and try to watch television, but it was impossible to eat or focus.
When she’d finally crawl into bed she would lay in the dark attempting to sleep, but try as she might she could not blot out the intense, delicious, tantalizing spanking he had so masterfully delivered, or his compelling and dominating gaze and his tall athletic body, and before she was able to drift off to sleep, she would imagine how it would feel to be laying in his bed, subject to his erotic control.
Little did she know that Simon Sinclair spending his nights much like hers, except for the microwaved dinner.
He had made it a point to have Cecil hovering around. It was distracting and there was always plenty that needed his attention, but once the work was finished, dinner had been consumed and Cecil had retired, Simon found no solace in the hotel bar, and had no desire to cruise the streets of Beverly Hills in search of a bustling late night haunt for a nightcap. He chose instead to slip between the expensive sheets and fantasize about the woman who had bewitched him.
Try as he might, he could not make sense of the intense attraction he felt toward her, nor could he fathom why she was always in his head. Inevitably his strong, long fingers would wrap themselves around his manhood and he would massage himself to a quick climax, inspired by thoughts of the sensuous and deliciously wicked things he would like to do to the auburn-haired beauty. Then, and only then, would sleep overtake him.
When the negotiations came to their conclusion, Belle s
et to work organizing the obligatory house inspections. With the sellers and Simon both wanting to wrap things up in an expeditious manner, she twisted some arms and promised additional fees to have the work done immediately. On the morning in question, just two days after the agreement had been reached, she called Cecil to confirm the inspections would last through the day, and she would be at the hotel later in the afternoon to offer her report to Simon in person.
It was a bright, sunny morning when she drove through the tall iron gates and up the driveway to the portico by the front doors. Her presence was more of a formality than anything else, and all she could think about was seeing Simon when the inspectors were finished with their work. In spite of her misgivings, she missed him terribly. Two days without seeing him, and she was feeling it.
Sean Harrington’s Jaguar was parked off to one side, and a truck in the motor court told her one of the inspectors had already arrived. She was relieved. It meant she would not have to be alone in the house with Sean.
She walked up the steps and through the front door, and as she expected Sean was there to greet her, this time with his usual in-your-face enthusiasm. The quiet, respectful demeanor he had displayed in front of Simon was gone. Marching up he hugged her tightly, holding her longer than was appropriate, then followed her as she sought out the lone inspector who was there.
Throughout the day she stayed near one of the workers, and chose to eat an energy bar for lunch rather than accept Sean’s offer to join him on the patio by the pool to share a gourmet meal he’d had delivered, determined not to give him an ounce of encouragement.
At the end of the day, as the inspectors began to leave, she made her way to the sunroom at the back of the house to call Simon. There were only a few minor repairs and nothing that would impede the sale of the house. It had been a long day and she was hungry and exhausted, but pleased all the hard work was now behind her and they could complete the sale.
“That’s excellent news, Belle. Thank you for all your hard work,” Simon said gratefully.
The British Billionaire Bachelor Page 6