by Measha Stone
“Please sit.” Ash pointed and rounded the desk to find his own seat. Peter stood off in the corner. “Marcus didn’t come with you?” Ash didn’t find it surprising.
“No, no. Business matters to see to.” Kristof waved a hand.
“Ah, then it’s pleasure you seek here?” Ash smiled. Kristof wouldn’t find what he desired in his annex. But it was all a game. Everything a game with these assholes. Say one thing, mean another. Time wasting.
“Marcus came to you for a purchase.” Kristoff struggled to adjust his seating before he continued. “He had money ready to be transferred, had brought transportation, but he says you didn’t honor the deal. I said, that’s not like Ashland. Not the way his father did business. I’ll go and see for myself.”
Ash’s neck tensed, and he clenched his fingers together beneath the desk. Old ties did not break easily.
“Your son did want to make a purchase, but he didn’t agree to the terms in the final agreement. I won’t sell without all parties in full agreement. It’s bad for business to allow anyone to leave the negotiations unhappy.”
No fucking way Komisky was going to be buying anything from him anytime soon. A man who ran to Daddy to fix his problems wasn’t much of a man.
Kristoff wiped his hand across his neck. The passage of time hadn’t treated him kindly. Spots littered his skin, and just the stress of dealing with this problem left him sweaty and agitated.
“That’s what I don’t understand. Your father never bothered with the depth of these negotiations. He never allowed them so much say in the contract.”
His father didn’t do a lot of things Ash did. Not giving a shit about his product had not been a tradition Ash carried over when he took his father’s businesses.
“My father and I saw things differently. He’s not here, now, so I’m running things the way I see them. And I won’t allow anyone who can’t honor the limits of the contract to make the purchase. Marcus wouldn’t adhere to the guidelines, so the sale didn’t take place.”
Men had little else if they did not have honor. Ash’s mother had taught him that. It wasn’t a lesson his father could have conceived of teaching, or being an example of.
“I see.” Kristoff pinched his fat lips together. Perhaps thinking of a new tactic.
Ash couldn’t see why Marcus wanted to make this deal so badly. Surely, he could find something else to meet his needs.
“I didn’t say he couldn’t make another offer, just not on that particular item. He’s free to choose another, make another bid, and begin negotiations. He might find something better suited for his—uh—needs.”
Doubtful, but Ash wouldn’t let Kristoff leave thinking Ash didn’t know how to strike a compromise. He may not have continued the traditions of his father, but he did not see the need to make enemies either.
“Ah. That’s the Ashland I know.” Kristoff smiled after a moment. “Levelheaded. Not hot tempered like your father. That’s good. Smart and even.” He shook a finger at him. “Good. Then I’ll tell Marcus to move on to something more—appealing to him.”
Ash moved one hand to rest on his desk while the other remained fisted in his lap. Marcus would shop around, but he wouldn’t find what he wanted. No one would agree to the terms he offered, and Ash would never force it.
“Good. I will make sure he’s on the list for the next showing. I believe we have one in a few nights, is that right, Peter?” He could see the unease in his cousin’s expression, but to Kristoff he probably just looked bored.
“Yes, two nights from tonight. I will personally be sure his name is on the list.” Peter swallowed hard, and Ash knew the action for what it was. Peter wanted to remark on Marcus’s tastes, but he had been raised smarter than that. He kept his mouth shut.
“Excellent. I knew something could be done. Marcus, you know, is just stubborn and hot headed.” Kristoff used the arms of the chair to wiggle himself out of the chair and stand up. “Since I’m here, do you think I could take a look around?”
Peter’s jaw clenched, but Ash ignored it.
“Peter will give you the tour.” The exact one he’d been given at least a dozen times over the past two years since Ash’s father passed away and Ash took over the business.
“Of course, Right this way, Mr. Komisky.” Peter pushed the office door open and waited for him.
Peter glanced over his shoulder as he exited the room, letting Ash know exactly what he thought of being sent on the errand. He would have to make it up to Peter later.
Dealing with these petty assholes left him on edge. He wouldn’t get away from his father’s old associates; he had known that going into it. But when one of them made the comparison, it set his spine to stone. Reminded him he wasn’t like his father wasn’t an insult.
His thoughts drifted to the woman walking his upstairs halls. He needed to do something with her, figure what the hell his plan would be. He couldn’t very well just let her wander the grounds for the rest of her life.
He grabbed his cell and sent out a text to have a car ready at nine and a dress brought up to his guest.
They were going out.
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CHAPTER SIX
Ellie caught a glimpse of Ash’s reflection of the car window. Sitting beside him in the backseat of the Cadillac put her on edge. They hadn’t talked much other than over breakfast, after what happened between them the night before, and it seemed the stark silence would continue.
Aside from a maid informing her Ash required her attendance for the evening and laying a dress on her bed, she had no idea what they were doing. Ash hadn’t even accompanied her to the car. Once she was settled, he slipped into the seat and gestured for the driver to pull out.
“Where are we going?” she finally asked when the traffic became thicker and their progress slowed to a crawl. The bright lights of downtown surrounded them.
“To one of my clubs,” he answered, fingering his phone. He hadn’t tied his hair back for the evening, and the unruly locks covered his features from her view.
Her hair twisted up into a braid and wound tightly showcased the earrings he’d sent up to her. She pretended it was all just a game of dress up while she had gotten ready for him. It had occurred to her, she could refuse. Not go, or at least to wear something from her own wardrobe brought from her condo, but in the end, she’d done what he expected. At least she could spend the evening out of the house. As large and beautiful as the estate was, she couldn’t help feeling the chill in the air everywhere she went.
Ash filled his home with beautiful artwork and architecture, but there was little warmth. The staff remained aloof and distant no matter how she tried to provoke a conversation, and if she dared ask a question about Ash, they quickly ended their chat and rushed off to a random chore.
“Which club?” she asked, yanking the short hem of her dress down. The thin black dress barely covered her thighs, tug as she might it wouldn’t reach her knees.
He tucked his phone inside his back pocket and captured her hand in his, leaving it resting on her knee.
“Delilah.” He ducked his head to see out the window. “We should be there in a few minutes.”
She stared at their fingers entwined on her lap. He could easily hold both her hands in one of his.
“Why did you bring me?” She asked when the car pulled up in front of the club. A crowd milled around the entrance, being contained by a single man with an earpiece letting them trickle in as people left.
Ash turned to her, tucked his hair behind his right ear, and grinned. “You’re my escort. Why would I not bring you?”
“Can I ask how much each of these excursions will remove from the debt total?”
His grip tightened, but his grin didn’t fade. “I suppose it depends on the quality of your work.” He fondled the teardrop diamond dangling from her earlobe. “Before we go in, there are rules. You may not speak to anyone other than me, unless I give permission. I have bu
siness associates here, and they will mistake your intentions if you talk with them.”
“So, only speak to you.” She gritted her teeth against the smartass comment simmering on her tongue. “Got it. Anything else?”
“Plenty, but it’s all summed up easily enough with one rule. Obey me. Do that, and you’ll be fine.” He leaned over and brushed his lips across hers. “I don’t like your hair up like this. Next time, leave it down.”
He knocked on the window, and the door opened. Without letting go of her, he helped her out of the car and led her past the crowd and into the club. She tugged upward on her neckline, feeling the bouncers’ eyes lingering on her while she followed the pull of Ash’s possessive hand.
Once inside, he dropped her hand and moved his to the small of her back, leading her toward a set of stairs in the rear of the club. He paused at the bottom of the steps to speak with the man guarding them, and took the opportunity to survey her surroundings.
She wasn’t so ignorant to not know what the inside of a strip club should look like, but this didn’t fit the bill. Instead of seedy men drooling over a catwalk, or women flaunting every bit of flesh they possessed as they strutted around, there was a subtle stage. Men sat around cocktail tables dressed in fine clothing. No drooling, but full appreciation for the women strolling around. Their outfits were a far cry from conservative, with the short petticoat skirts and black leather corsets, but they weren’t half naked either. Graceful. The woman promenaded through the tables carrying drinks and food with their heads held high.
The music started up again, and the deep purple curtains parted, allowing two women to step on stage. Just as they began to dance, Ash gave her a little push, and she climbed the stairs.
She turned to keep her gaze on the two women while they walked, and Ash made no comment. They moved with skill and rhythm she would never possess no matter the number of hours she practiced. Touching each other with well-crafted seduction, they moved with the beat of the music, fondling and rubbing.
“Enjoying the show?” Ash pressed his lips to her ear. She had stopped and stared at the stage, mesmerized by both the beauty of the women and their skill.
She pulled back from the railing she’d been leaning over and tried to give him a disgruntled look. Since he laughed in response, she counted it as a failure and followed him to a table where two glasses of red wine stood by an open bottle of cabernet.
He offered her the seat closest to the railing, and she considered it a favor. She would be able to observe the dancing without him in her line of vision.
The music changed to a faster tempo, and the women moved closer to each other, removing each other’s lace jackets.
“That is how you undress.” Ash’s words bit at her. Of course, he’d remind her of the first time she’d removed her clothes in front of him.
“Maybe you should hire them to do it for you, then,” she shot back, glaring at him over her shoulder.
He laughed. “I already did.”
Oh. Right. It was his club.
Giving up on watching the duo peel off one another’s clothing, she leaned back in her chair and took in the artwork around the club.
“All of the paintings depict Samson and Delilah,” she commented.
She could feel him surveying her.
“Yes. The matching club, Samson, is a few miles away and is decorated in the same theme.”
“Samson. Isn’t that a male strip club?” A girl from her art class had told her about it and had asked her to go with her for a night out. To enjoy the priceless artwork supposedly decorating the walls.
“Women enjoy sex just as much as men,” he commented. Brushing a finger across her jawline, he grinned. “As you demonstrated nicely last night.”
She jerked away from him and tried to turn her attention to the new woman on the stage, but he wrapped his hand around her neck and drew her to him.
“Don’t deny you loved it.”
“Sir, my apologies, but Mr. Komisky is requesting a moment of your time.”
Ash didn’t let her go but turned a frustrated expression on the man standing at their table. She hadn’t even heard him enter the private area or approach.
“Which Komisky?” Ash’s voice held bitterness.
“Marcus, sir,” the younger man answered, clearly trying to hold conceal his fear over having intruded.
Ash gave him a curt nod and waved him off.
“I have to talk with him. Stay here. Do not wander off.” He gave her neck a little squeeze and stood.
Where exactly did he think she’d wander off to? He had a man stationed at the top of the stairs, preventing her from leaving the private area they were sitting in.
Ash didn’t leave the area like she thought he would. Instead, he moved to the far corner of the room. A man stalked up the stairs, waving off the guard when he tried to speak with him, hiked over to Ash and launched into a list of problems at the club, casting a quick glance in her direction. It was brief but long enough to make the hairs on her neck stand up.
Ash never gave more than a raised brow in reaction while the man waved his hands and smacked the tabletop. After a few minutes, the guard near the stairs headed heir way, but stopped when Ash gave a brief head shake.
No matter the volume of the man’s voice, Ash’s remained so low, she couldn’t make out a word.
She turned her attention to the dance floor to find it empty. Intermission? Did strip clubs have those?
“What about her?” She turned to see the barreled in her direction, his face tight with irritation.
“She’s not on the menu, Marcus.” Ash moved to stand behind Ellie. His hands rested on her shoulders.
What menu exactly where they talking about?
“I’ll make an offer.” A fat tongue darted out of his mouth and licked his red lips.
“Not on the menu. You have been put on the list for two nights from now. I suggest you wait until then to make your offer.” Ash’s thumb brushed along her neck. The touch eased her, letting her know the man blustering before her wasn’t a threat to her.
Marcus’s stare left a dirty sensation over her skin as he took her in, still licking his fat lips. “Fine. Two days.” He winked at her and turned to leave. “If she’s there, she’s mine.” He jerked a thumb in her direction before shoving the guard out of the way and descending the stairs.
Once they were alone again, Ash retook his seat and grabbed his glass of wine, gulping it in one swallow.
“What did he mean, two nights from now? What happens then?”
Ash regarded her for a moment, a shadow cascading over his features. “Nothing.” He poured another glass of wine.
“Does it have something to do with the wing of the house Peter wouldn’t let me see?” She sipped wine. The red blend warmed her as she drank more.
Ash took the glass from her when she’d drained it.
“Are you having some sort of party over there or something?” She tried to sound only mildly curious and didn’t argue about him taking her wine glass. Giving him a reason to deny her answers wouldn’t be the way to go.
“You aren’t allowed in that wing.” His eyes narrowed. “Let me be clear about this, Ellie. If you even turn the knob, I’ll show you what those rings on my wall are for.”
She swallowed, her throat constricting under his intense glare.
“I was only asking. Don’t worry.” She gave him her back while she feigned interest in the girls entering the stage.
His hands dug into her hair, plucking and pulling out the pins holding up her braid. She tried to stop him, but he smacked her hands away and went about undoing her updo and running his fingers through the strands until they all cascaded around her shoulders.
“Better.” He tossed the pins onto the table. Ellie brushed her hair over her shoulder. The tension she’d witnessed in his jaw after Marcus left eased, and she wondered if Ash ever knew a moment where he didn’t have complete control over his world.
She stood
and moved a few paces away, leaning against the railing and observing the crowd below. The men below didn’t shout out catcalls or whistles like she expected.
“If they can’t behave like gentlemen and respect the women, they aren’t allowed in,” Ash stated from behind her as if he had read her mind. His body trapped her against the railing, one hand on either side of her.
She didn’t understand this man. One moment he acted every bit the Neanderthal, promising her a punishment for not obeying him. The next he demanded respect for the women of his club, going to the point of not allowing patrons in if they couldn’t give it.
Taking a deep breath, she took a chance he would be agreeable with her wishes. “I’d like to call my father. To let him know I’m okay.” She found strength in not being able to see his face while she made her request.
“No.” The answer came hard and with no further explanation.
When she tried to protest, she felt his hand on her leg, lifting the hem of her dress.
“Bend over a little, Ellie,” he whispered in her ear.
She glanced over, but the guard had suddenly made himself scarce. Had Ash dismissed him so he could play with her?
A new song carried over the speakers, louder and with a quick tempo. The wicked beat of the music sank into her, giving her a sense of danger.
Ash’s hand splayed out over her exposed ass. The thong she wore didn’t cover much of her body from him, and she doubted would be able to keep him from what he wanted.
“Be a good girl for me.” He swept her hair from her neck and kissed her, licking the sensitive flesh and nibbling. So many sensations, all at once.
A woman danced on the stage in next to no clothing. Her hips gyrated, her breasts swayed, and she was the most graceful thing Ellie had witnessed all night.
Ellie leaned forward, the railing biting into her stomach. If not for the heels she wore, she wouldn’t have been able to take the position he wanted.
His hand left her ass and appeared in front of her mouth. “Lick my fingers, Ellie.” He commanded, shoving his middle digit into her mouth before she could think to disobey.