The Secrets of Seduction (The Ladies of The Burling School Book 7)

by Elizabeth Lennox

  “Every step of the way!” he vowed.

  Another knock and they both laughed even as they rolled their eyes. “Let’s go get this stupid award,” she told him. “Then I want you in bed for the next several days.”

  “Not going to happen,” he argued. He opened the door as he said, “Remember? We’re getting married tomorrow.”

  That was the picture that everyone saw in the newspapers the following day; Ella laughing up at her fiancée, a gloriously huge ring on her finger, prominently displayed because her left hand was on his shoulder as they left the hotel manager’s office.

  Epilogue

  Ella walked out of her office and paused, listening for a long moment. Silence? Silence was always bad.

  At that moment, Malcolm stepped out of his office as well. He’d been working from home more often as the due date for their fourth child drew near.

  “Silence is bad,” he said, looking at her from across the hallway.

  Ella’s hand rubbed over her round belly. “Silence is very bad,” she groaned, then waddled around. “Stacy was with the boys this morning,” she said, referring to their nanny who took care of their three boys. They were all around two years apart, although this fourth one had been a surprise. Ella and Malcolm had decided that their family was large enough with the three sons and he’d gone through the surgery to take care of the issue. Unfortunately, that exact same day, Ella had discovered that she was pregnant again after fainting when the nurse told her that Malcolm had come out of the surgery and was doing well.

  Malcolm moved closer, reaching out to caress her belly. “You, sit down. I’ll go find out what’s happening.”

  Ella watched with love in her eyes as Malcolm walked around the corner towards the main part of the house. With three boys, she and Malcolm had designed their current residence so that their individual offices were away from the main part of the house, which had been an excellent idea. Their boys were rowdy, rambunctious, and loud! At ten, eight, and five, her boys were a handful, but she loved every chaotic, crazy moment.

  It wasn’t until he’d disappeared around the corner that she felt the first pain. It was so strong, she actually doubled over as the contraction rippled over her back and belly. Grabbing onto the wall, she took a deep breath, trying to ride the pain. “Malcolm?” she called out.

  Too late. He was gone in search of their brood of loveable hellions.

  With careful steps, she walked down the long hallway, relieved when the contraction eased and she could breathe more easily.

  Stepping into the great room, she looked around and called out. “Malcolm?”

  He appeared on the upper balcony, one boy under each arm and another on his back. All four of them were laughing. Obviously, her boys had ambushed Malcolm, something they loved to do but so far, they’d never managed to pin him down, although the oldest was getting taller and stronger by the day, so their efforts were getting better.

  Malcolm took one look at Ella and knew what was going on. “Boys! Starlight!”

  With that one word, all three of her boys froze and turned to stare at their mother.

  A split second later, she heard all three of them screaming, “Starlight!” Then they were scrambling out of Malcolm’s arms, heading towards…she had no idea where.

  Malcolm was sprinting down the stairs towards Ella, taking her hands and looking at her carefully. “You think it’s time?”

  Ella bit her lip, trying to hide her nervousness. “Yes. I think it’s time.” One would think she’d have this pregnancy and birthing thing down by now. But ever since the moment she’d realized that she was pregnant, this pregnancy had been different.

  There was another commotion on the balcony and Ella looked out, seeing her three boys carrying her suitcase down the stairs. One of them could have handled it, but because her boys were overly protective, alpha-male-wannabees, they each carried one corner while Stacy, the nanny, looked on with affectionate concern.

  “I’ve got the boys covered, Ms. Reynolds,” Stacy said. “I’ll bring them to the hospital once we hear the news.”

  Ella nodded, relieved to have such a competent woman taking care of her crazy brood. Malcolm was by her side, leading her out of the house. “I’ve got the keys. The boys have your suitcase. We’re set!”

  She nodded, feeling another contraction hit her. “I’m scared, Malcolm. This feels different.”

  “I know, love. We’ll get through this together. Stacy said she’d call the hospital for us,” he comforted her before he closed the door.

  Seven hours later, Ella screamed as their baby daughter made her grand entrance. She already had a tuft of blond hair and was screaming louder than Ella. Malcolm turned to frown at Ella as he said, “A girl?!” Then he passed out on floor of the delivery room.

  Ella smiled as one of the nurses placed their baby girl in her arms, another nurse bending down to revive Malcolm, who had been such a trooper during all three of her other pregnancies. Ella just laughed, thinking that this delivery was dramatically different from all of her others, why wouldn’t Malcolm react differently as well?

  “A girl,” she sighed leaning back as she stared down at her little girl. Malcolm was helped up by two of the nurses, who may have been snickering at him. Yeah, Ella was definitely going to tease him about this.

  “Do you have a name?” one of the nurses asked.

  Ella laughed, shaking her head. “We picked out several names for boys. But nothing for a girl!”

  Malcolm had recovered enough so that he could once again stand up. He came over to her and groaned. “Ella, she’s a girl!”

  Ella laughed. “Nothing gets by you, my big hero!”

  Malcolm’s large hand came up to curl around their daughter’s head. “She’s just like her mother,” he whispered, awe in his voice.

  “Yeah. About time I got some DNA into one of our children,” she teased. All three of their sons were smaller versions of Malcolm.

  He lifted his eyes, looking right at her. “I love you, Ella.”

  She smiled, hugging her little daughter close. “I love you too!”

  Author’s Note: Would you mind leaving a review of this story? Just click HERE. Reviews are incredibly important! If there is feedback that you’d prefer not to leave in a public forum, feel free to e-mail me at Elizabeth@elizabethlennox.com. I read all reviews and genuinely appreciate any feedback! Thank you! (And please keep reading for an excerpt of Sloane Abbot’s story! It’s really good and has a hilarious ending!)

  Excerpt of The Tycoon’s Baby Revelation

  Coming August 14, 2020

  Click HERE to get Sloane’s Story!

  Sloane stepped out of the beat up Chevy hatchback, nervously tugging her skirt down over her hips and taking a deep breath. “This is it,” she whispered, looking up at the non-descript building.

  It wasn’t much to look at. Just a two story structure surrounded by a bunch of other two story buildings. “Is this the right place?” she muttered through numb lips. Pulling up the e-mail on her phone, she checked the address, then looked at the building again. Yep. This was the right address.

  She walked carefully in the borrowed black heels, hoping that she wouldn’t fall on her face and land in a humiliating heap on the simmering hot asphalt. She’d never worn heels before. Sneakers had been the shoes of choice while working at the fast food restaurant where Sloane had been employed for the past four months.

  Glancing down at her skirt, she smoothed out the wrinkles, hoping it didn’t look too shabby. Sloane’s youngest sister, Pepper, had miraculously presented this outfit to her this morning, her eyes shimmering with anxious pride. “I got the skirt and blouse out of the donation box at the shelter a few days ago,” Pepper had explained with a hopeful expression in her eyes. Eyes that were too old and wary for a fourteen year old. “It’s good material, although the style is dated.” She’d smoothed her hand down over the tan material. “I was able to adjust the size so that the skirt would fit you better and so
that it didn’t look so…worn out.”

  Rayne, the middle sister of their trio, had handed her the black pumps. “Martha gave me these,” she told Sloane. “She needs them back though. But we’ve all got our fingers crossed for your job interview today.”

  Sloane swallowed past the lump of emotion in her throat, so damned proud of her sisters she could barely stand it. Sure, the three of them were homeless at the moment, sleeping at a shelter each night and eating their meals in the buffet line that the church across the street cooked for the residents. But they’d all been working hard, saving every penny and finding odd jobs so that they’d have a few extra dollars. Between the three of them, they’d almost scraped up enough money to rent a studio apartment. They wouldn’t have furniture, not for a while, but it would be really great to not have to sleep with one eye open every night, fearful of the other shelter guests stealing their stuff or…or worse.

  Standing here now, in the altered suit and borrowed shoes, Sloane lifted her chin with determination. “I can do this!” she whispered fervently. “I can!”

  Applying for this administrative assistant’s position had been a long shot, but Sloane had decided that she had nothing to lose by trying. Working at a fast food place just wasn’t bringing in enough money to protect her sisters and things were scary at the homeless shelter. The three of them stuck together for security, but…it was still dangerous.

  Taking a deep breath, Sloane pulled open the door and, with as much feigned confidence as she could muster, stepped into the blank-looking building and…froze.

  There wasn’t much in the building. No offices, no walls, no desks, or…well, nothing. It was literally a shell of a building, with even the overhead wires hanging down in some places.

  But there were about ten or twelve stunningly beautiful women sitting in what looked like a space that might eventually become a lobby – but at the moment, was just a concrete floor, ceilings that revealed the electric wires and ventilation system and no walls.

  The gorgeous women didn’t seem to mind the lack of an office environment, Sloane realized. In fact, most of them were too busy preening, flipping their glossy blonde or brunette hair back over their shoulders or fluffing their locks for additional volume. One woman held up a mirror, pursing her lips and batting her lashes as if practicing for some sort of audition.

  This was odd, Sloane thought nervously as she took the only empty seat in the room. There were so many other women, all sitting on uncomfortable, metal folding chairs, all of them waiting impatiently to be called, all shooting covert glances at the others, as if measuring up their competition. When their names were called, they jumped up, excited and eager for their interview.

  Sloane didn’t understand what was going on until one of the women, a blonde woman with red, glossy lips and a cream silk blouse that was so low cut, Sloane could see the edge of her black, lace bra, sneered in her direction. “Why don’t you just walk away now? I’m going to land this job and,” she smiled maliciously, “if I’m lucky, land Josh Starke as well.”

  One of the other women, a blonde with shimmering hair and red lips, sneered at both of them. “Give it up, beeatch,” she whispered with a vicious, condescending laugh. “You don’t have what it takes to win Josh Starke’s attention,” and she lifted her hands to cup her very bodacious breasts slightly.

  Two other women sitting nearby snorted and Sloane watched with crazy fascination as yet another woman unbuttoned one more button on her silk shirt.

  Perhaps she should walk away, Sloane thought. The other women were all stunningly beautiful and all had amazing figures. After six months of near starvation, of giving nearly all of the food that she could afford to her younger sisters so that they could concentrate at school, Sloan looked like the homeless person that she was. Pepper might have done a good job of altering the skirt and blouse, but none of her sister’s efforts could compare to the gorgeous, expensive outfits these ladies were wearing.

  Which begged the question…what was going on here? Who was Josh Starke and why were all of these women preening as if they were about to step onto a stage for a beauty contest?

  Furthermore, the building was empty, without office furniture, lighting, phones, computers…or even walls! So…was this even a legitimate job? The employment agency had sent her here, explaining that this was a prime job opportunity. Sloane had been told that the company was looking a responsible administrative assistant and receptionist for a new start-up company. Receptionist duties and computer work were tasks that Sloane figured she could handle easily enough. Answering phones? Check, she could do that. Smile and greet people who came to visit? Yep, not a problem. Everything else? Well, she’d survived an illegal eviction after her mother’s sudden death, gotten her high school equivalency degree, and convinced a judge that she could support her sisters on her minimum wage, hourly income. That last claim had been an absolute lie, but so far, she’d kept her family together and her two younger sisters were…well, if not thriving, they were together. A family.

  As far as Sloane was concerned, anything this Starke guy might throw at her, she could just figure it out, just as she’d done with every other miserable trial life had thrown at her over the past year.

  Okay, so she’d have to get the job first.

  If this even was a legitimate job. Watching the other women, Sloane was starting to doubt it.

  Another woman was called back, the deep voice that called her name was rather intimidating. Sloane shifted in her chair, keeping her skirt demurely over her knees even as the others around her were perfecting their “come-hither” vibe.

  Every time that deep voice called another woman back, it seemed as if his bellow was angrier than the last. Impatient bastard, she thought with increasing resentment and fear.

  Even worse, she’d been told that her interview time was at two o’clock! She’d switched shifts with another person at the restaurant so that she could be here at two o’clock, thinking that this job was a real opportunity. It was now almost four o’clock! She had to be at work in thirty minutes and she didn’t think that her boss would appreciate the excuse that she was interviewing for another job as a good enough reason to be late!

  The last beauty sauntered out from behind the wall and the mysterious, deep voice snapped, “Sloane Abbot!”

  Sloane stood up, hitching her plastic-wannabe-leather purse higher onto her shoulder. The other candidates had carried leather briefcases, most of them holding an elaborate day planner in their arms. They’d all looked professional and amazing! Sloane felt and looked like a candidate for…nothing. She looked horrible compared to the other beauties this man had interviewed today, but she lifted her chin and stepped behind the wall.

  “Sit down!” the tall, terrifyingly large man snapped, rubbing the bridge of his nose and sipped coffee out of a ceramic mug.

  Sloane sat on the metal folding chair, perching on the edge as if she knew that she’d be tossed out in a moment. When that happened, she wanted to be ready, although she’d love to come up with some perfectly succinct comment about the tardiness of this interview and how rude he was. He might look like a Greek god, with a sharp jawline that should be in a razor commercial, a head of thick, dark hair and broad, impossibly huge shoulders that pulled at the white material of his dress shirt.

  That was about all she could see of the man since he was looking at the papers on the cheap, metal desk. Except for that hand. He had nice hands, she thought. His fingers continued to rub his forehead, not looking up at her. Almost as if he knew she was a fake.

  “How fast can you type?” the man demanded.

  She once again noticed his broad shoulders and the exhaustion in his voice. The jet back hair was tousled as he tapped his pen against the paper that, she assumed, was her resume. A resume that looked pathetic. It filled only half the page.

  “About sixty words a minute.”

  The man opened his mouth to ask the next question, but he froze and actually lifted his head to look at h
er. “Sixty?”

  Sloane wasn’t sure if that startled reaction was good or bad. Sixty words a minute seemed pretty fast but…maybe it wasn’t? Maybe he needed more.

  “And do you take dictation?”

  Dictation? What was that? Wasn’t that…didn’t secretaries from the nineteen forties take dictation? She suspected that was a joke. “No, sir.”

  His gaze sharpened as he looked her over and she noticed that his eyes were a clear, astonishing green surrounded by thick, almost black lashes. Green eyes? The man seemed too harsh for such pretty eyes. Every part of him screamed “predator” and yet, his eyes with the long, dark lashes, were…there was no other word for it. His eyes were pretty. Beautiful, actually. Set against the taut, tanned skin of his harsh features, the eyes were startling.

  Slowly, the man shifted in his chair, the metal squeaking as his long, muscular body unfurled. Like a python, she thought. He leaned his forearms against the ancient desk, those green eyes peering at her through those lashes and Sloane felt a wave of something alarming hit her.

  But she wouldn’t back down! Not this time! She’d endured the icy cold rain of her mother’s funeral, dropping out of high school, living in a shelter, and working twenty hours a day for the past six months! No way was she letting yet another man intimidate her! Not this time!

  “You can barely type and you don’t know dictation. You seem to be barely out of high school…why the hell should I hire you?” he demanded. “Do you have any skills at all?”

  Oh, that was so unfair! Sloane glared at the man, ignoring the danger signals in his “pretty” green eyes. She was sick of men treating her like dirt! Her landlord had kicked them out of their apartment illegally, her boss thought it was okay to grope her whenever he passed by, and her father had ignored her from the moment of conception. Men were…bastards!