by Avery Aster
“Tell me about it.”
“I can see why you’re passionate about her.” He studied her as she drank her champagne before taking his own sip.
“I’m passionate about the people I care about.” She set her glass down, intending to pace herself. A lightweight, she couldn’t embarrass herself. Taddy didn’t have the same tolerance for alcohol as Vive.
“I hope you don’t mind—after getting reacquainted today at the police station, I looked Brill, Inc. up online.” He put his hand on her thigh under the table in a possessive gesture. “Brill, Inc. is quite the agency. You must be proud.”
“Thank you, I am.” His grip felt strong. Tempted to squirm, she kept her legs still. She imagined his fingers inching their way up her legs, spreading them apart, as his tongue lapped circles around her clit. Snap out of it, Taddy. Taking a sip of water, she wondered at what cost. Did Warner make similar sacrifices to get his company off and running as she did? “As I’m sure you are with Truman Enterprises.”
“Very much so.” His fingers glided along her hemline, causing her to shudder with excitement. “How do you manage Brill’s success and have a personal life?”
“I don’t.” She laughed over that daunting question.
The server came around with a yellow wax bean salad. Again, Warner waited for her to take the first bite. “Good?” he asked with a smile on his lips.
God, he’s sexy! She wanted to jump across the table and kiss him. But Taddy didn’t.
Covering her mouth, she bit down on a bean with a crunch and swallowed. “Great.” Taddy dabbed the napkin around her lips and stated, “I’ve read about Truman Enterprises, but can’t say I’ve heard much on your private life.”
“I grew up in Newport, where my parents still live. I have one brother who’s a year younger—”
“Lucky you, I always wanted to be a big sister. What’s his name?”
“Sheldon, he’s thirty-two going on sixteen and is…a handful.” He sipped his water, perhaps questioning if he should share more. “I have an apartment in Paris and spend time in New York.”
“Manhattan?”
“Yes.”
“Why haven’t I ever seen you out and about?”
“I’m in Tribeca. You?”
“Aaah…you’re a downtown man. That explains it. I live on the Upper East Side. Most of my friends do.”
He winked, as if to say, “Of course you do, Taddy Brill.” “Single?”
“Huh?”
“Are you dating anyone?” Warner clarified.
“All these questions. You should meet my friend Vive. She’s a journalist and is always asking a lot about everything.”
“Are you passing me off on your friend Vive already?”
“God no!” She felt her skin getting hot. “I’m flattered you asked. I’m not exclusive with anyone at the moment.” Taddy hoped he’d buy that vague answer, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone on a real date. Sitting across from her butler at the dining room table after he’d made dinner didn’t really count as a date.
“So then, we’re both single.”
“I’m surprised you’re not married. With your fortunes, women must fall at your feet.”
“My wife passed away a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” She’d never met a widower as young as Warner before.
“Thank you.”
“How long were you together?”
“About ten years. Jacqueline was my first.”
“Oh, your first love?”
“Yes and the first woman I ever made love to.”
“That’s really beautiful, Warner.” Taddy thought his late wife must’ve been a remarkable woman. “I know how it feels to have someone taken away from you, especially when they’re all you’ve ever really known.” Taddy could tell by the look on his face he was a private person. When he did share something about himself, he probably regretted his transparency. With no desire to pry, she added, “You never get over the pain but you find ways to move forward. Truman Enterprises must keep you busy.”
He frowned. “Perhaps…” Warner sipped his water then said, “I turned my grief into a charity in my late wife’s name.”
“That’s commendable. I host an annual fundraising ball every year for various programs in need.”
“Yes, I read about them online. They look like a lot of fun.”
She thought it was odd she’d never read about him in the papers. “You don’t do any personality profiles on yourself or the charity?”
“I don’t grant media interviews. I was raised to work hard but not crave the spotlight,” he answered matter-of-factly, not hiding anything. “In addition to reading up on your business I also did some research on your personal life.”
“Really?” Her voice broke. Please don’t tell me you caught my online video riding a horse at my Arabian Nights Party—naked.
“You’re quite the socialite and a Brillford to boot. Your family is powerful in New York. I can see why you holiday under an alias as Red.” His smile broadened in approval. Perhaps he wasn’t threatened. Most men ran for the door.
Throughout history, the Brillfords had risen as a significant royal house in Europe. Renowned in the late 1700s for their work in math and science, Taddy couldn’t recall the name of the exact patent her great-grandfather owned but remembered whatever it was remained important. Just not to her.
“My family came from Austria and later Germany. Around the mid-1800s is when they arrived in the US.”
“You have a prominent name in American society. Why don’t you use Brillford?”
“Brill is what I’ve gone by since I emancipated.”
Eyes wide, Warner asked, “How old were you when you did that?”
“Sixteen.” It was during her junior year at Avon Porter. “My friend Vive talked me into it. It’s a long story.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know.” His face turned bright red.
“The courts found it in my best interest to separate from my parents. And so did I.”
“I don’t know what to say. I didn’t intend to—”
“It’s okay. Feels like it was another lifetime ago, ya know? I don’t think about it much.”
“Because you don’t want to?”
“It’s too painful for me, Warner. I try to get on with my life. I’m grateful for what I have now.” Taddy didn’t want to talk about herself any longer. “You must feel the same way. Yes?”
“I have days where I’m still angry that she’s gone. Then…I have days where I’m not as angry as I am sad. But I’ll see her again, one day.”
Taddy was going to cry. Here his love had gone and her parents were still here, on this earth, living in the same city as she was. She doubted she’d ever get to speak to her parents again. “Your ability to speak about your past is admirable.” She forced a smile, hoping to set him mind at ease. “Maybe someday you can teach me how to talk about mine without fire coming from my mouth.” She twisted her napkin under the table to release the frustration swelling in her throat. “I’m happy to discuss my PR firm.” Warner smiled for her to continue. “I started my agency while attending Columbia University with my childhood friend Blake Morgan. He’s my family. I’m fortunate to have my friends in the city, who are my chosen relatives. If that makes any sense.”
“Sure it does. Friends can be better than siblings at times.” Warner reassured her that she could share whatever she was comfortable with. “If you stay the week with me, here in Cannes, I’ll tell you more about my family.”
THE WEEK?
Hoping to change the topic, she pulled out her laptop and brought up the PowerPoint on Hôtel du France. “We should start on the press conference preparations.”
“What are you doing?” He shook his head in a dismissive gesture.
“Going over your strategy before the champagne goes to my head.” She forced a smile, hoping he’d make this as easy as possible. “I have your speaking points written down for th
e press.” She handed him the cards, which were indexed into a neat stack. “They are labeled with immediate and direct response questions.”
Without looking at the notes, he took them from her and set them on the table. “I read over what you dropped off earlier.” He spoke with a tone filled with respect. “Your top-line ideas are great. Thank you for such creativity.”
“My pleasure.”
“You have the go-ahead from me and my executives to move forward in the morning.”
Her defenses subsided. “Serious.” Taddy had expected push-back.
“Hôtel du France isn’t why I asked you to dinner tonight.” Without warning, he extended his hand across the table next to her arm. Palm up, fingertips out, he encouraged her to touch him.
“I see.” Taddy stared at his offering for a few seconds. Unanticipated emotions—happiness, confusion and anxiety—came over her. She glanced at his beautiful eyes for confirmation. His face remained confident she’d never deny him. You always get what you want, don’t you? Reaching across the table, she slipped her hand into his. An overwhelming emotion she’d fought since leaving him in the driveway with Rielle came over her. His face lit up much as it did the night she’d touched his chest, rubbing his nipples and calling him Big Daddy.
“Since our night at Privé Extreme, I’ve thought about you.” He spoke with huskiness. It was possible Warner had waited to speak those exact words to her for quite some time.
“You have?” Heart racing, she felt her upper lip glistening, and her inner thighs, they totally just moistened.
“Your beauty, the voice, those breasts…and how you felt in my hands.”
She went from moist to wet as he spoke about her body. Here was a man who didn’t skate around the bush about breast power. She reached for her water glass with her free hand. Sweet baby Jesus on an ice cream cone…here he goes.
Glancing around to see if anyone was listening, he lowered his voice. “How warm, wet and receptive you turned when I fondled you.” He sipped his champagne, held the bubbles in his mouth for a second and swallowed. His Adam’s apple moved slightly. “Having you in my arms felt enchanting.” He smiled with sincerity.
So she wasn’t crazy. “I felt as though I was tripping on acid.”
“You do acid?”
“No! Not now, but as a teenager a few times. My friends Lex, Vive, Blake and I tripped for prom and homecoming. Come to think of it, we did it almost every weekend.” She hoped she didn’t sound like a loser.
“What was it like?”
“We fantasized mostly, ya know, tripped. I’d be Princess Lolly from Candy Land.” Taddy bit her lip, realizing she should shut up. She sounded cra-cra. Especially since, as an adult, she hosted a real-life Candy Land Ball.
“Your teen years sound well spent.”
Taddy laughed—hard. She let her guard down a little. “The night we met in St. Barth, I assumed the Waris Sugar music made me go into euphoria, those soft candles, or you’d slipped me something.” Repeating the sensation now, she felt a spark flow through her.
“I did not roofie you.” Warner’s voice was composed but his intent stare over her body never ended. It warmed her up hotter than before. “However, I confess to feeling the same trippy way. The next morning I figured my ‘feel good’ came from being with you. I’ve never experienced…”
“What?” Tell me!
“I’m getting ahead of myself.” He grinned, hanging on to the words. “I thought how our lives would be today if Rielle hadn’t screwed it up.”
“And?” Where are you going with this?
“This morning you would’ve woken in my arms as every morning since the day we met.”
“You’re very romantic.” Convinced her head might fly off her shoulders with excitement, she let go of him and reached for the bread, tearing a piece and hoping for focus. The waiter came over with their meals. He served Taddy first, Kobe beef garnished with caviar.
“Have you thought about me?” He held his fork in his right hand, his knife in his left, and waited for her answer. Warner wouldn’t eat his entrée without her response.
“I wanted to, but I didn’t let myself, you know, because I thought you were—”
“Engaged. Well, now that you know the truth, have I been on your mind?” He took a bite from his meat and began to chew, never taking his eyes off her.
With a swift cut from the knife, she forked a baby’s bite into her mouth. Chewing afforded her time to think. The runny sauce tasted salty but delicious. She swallowed. “I’ve merely thought about getting your campaign ready.”
“Red—you give the impression you’re stressed.” A frown darted across his features. “At first, I thought it came from the jailhouse and Kiki’s release. Tonight, with the trespassing charges behind us, you act the same.” He cut another piece of meat. Breaking his intense stare from her eyes, he refocused on the meal.
“We have a huge press conference tomorrow.” She raised her voice, trying to add conviction. “As a rule, I’m on edge prior to a client event.” I’m usually on edge regardless.
He reached for her hand again and stroked her fingers. “I’m not a client, Red. You’re doing this because I dropped the charges.” Stabbing his fork into his greens, he assured, “There’s no pressure on Brill, Inc. or you for that matter. What’s done is done.”
“I’m a perfectionist.” I’m also an obsessive masturbator, a workaholic and I started smoking again.
“One in your position would have to be.” His eyebrows set in a straight line. “So you’re saying that after the conference tomorrow, you’ll be more relaxed, like the woman I met at Privé Extreme?” He studied her with possible suspicion.
“I—uh, am not sure. I’ve been pretty wound up lately.” She felt the strain in her neck and didn’t appreciate the conversation’s direction—microscopic life examination.
“Let me ask you a question.” He squeezed her hand tighter as if trying to pull her back into the conversation.
She nodded for him to continue.
“I’ll be able to notice if you’re telling the truth because your face is expressive.”
“Right.”
He looked her over. “Has another man touched you since our night in St. Barth?”
Taddy hesitated with how to respond to his question. She repositioned herself on her seat, unable to get comfortable. “Warner, I have—”
“Please, call me by the nickname.”
“Huh?” She gripped her chair’s edge, unsure where he was going with this.
“The title you gave me.” He smiled intimately. Warner’s face reminded her of all they’d shared at Privé Extreme.
“Big…Daddy.” She allowed herself to say it. The sex floodgates opened. Herald angels, please sing already. She’d say it again with more confidence, pretending he pounded inside her. “Big Daddy—to answer your question, I haven’t been with anyone.” She shrugged to hide whether or not she should be embarrassed or proud.
“I can tell.” He enjoyed talking about her. As if he held the solution in his back pocket.
“How so?” Let’s hear it. She set her fork on the plate, expecting him to reveal secret ESP sex powers. Lord, he made her va-jay-jay trip into a gumdrop fit without any drugs. What was next?
“The minute you put your hand in mine—your pupils dilated.” He stared at Taddy as if he’d seen through her. Warner scared the freak out of her but excited her all the same.
“They did?” She blinked. It couldn’t be her false eyelashes or contacts causing her eyes to enlarge.
“And your breasts are swelling.” His eyes focused on her cleavage.
She could tell he wanted to caress them. But this fancy restaurant didn’t have a privacy curtain for a girlie show. “They…are?” Directing her breasts forward, Taddy gave him the view he’d lusted after. Her body wanted this. Each pore had craved his touch since the second they met.
“And your lips felt dry when I kissed you before we sat down to dinner.”
/>
“Really?” She felt Warner’s sex coming off him hotter than today’s sun along the French Riviera.
“And I bet—if I reached under this table and put my hand between your legs, you’d drip on my fingers.” He licked the meat’s gravy from his thumb.
Drawing her hand under her chin, she nodded to confirm her crease was heating up. She imagined his body slamming her against a wall, pulling her hair back as she begged for more and spreading her legs wide while he rammed his cock so far up her, she’d be certain to fly off as Princess Lolly.
“I want to help you, Red.”
“You do?” Her core trembled and spoke to her, saying, “Please, Big Daddy, bang the shit outta me. Right here! Right now!”
“Let me find the fun, sexy girl who danced in my hands while in St. Barth’s. May I?”
She came back to reality for a second, sitting there staring at the sexiest man she’d ever set eyes on. His interest in her was evident. It flipped her out. “Yes, you may.” The second she agreed, Taddy could tell from the expression on Warner’s face that he wasn’t talking just about sex.
Chapter Fourteen
Oh His Anaconda, Seriously
Taddy had suggested they skip dessert. Warner seized her hand, leading them into a rear elevator. She leaned in, hugging him. “I’m looking forward to seeing your impérial suite.”
“And I’m looking forward to showing it to you.” Warner inserted a key, pushed a button on the control panel, and they rose. He kissed her.
She took in his strength, rubbing her body against his. So muscular. Curious to see his jewels, she reached down and unzipped his pants.
“Not yet, young lady.” Warner grabbed her hands and brought them back to his chest, kissing her fingers. “You’re more aggressive than I realized.”
“I’m a Manhattanite. What’d you expect?” Taddy asked, kissing him again as the elevator doors opened to his private living area. She estimated the suite to be about four thousand square feet. Empire-style décor adorned the rooms with various French silks and imported damasks. The expansive living room featured a majestic marble fireplace. Off the foyer were a few sizeable bedrooms, one with a sleigh bed in the middle. “It’s beautiful, Warner.”