The Female Charm

by Amelia Price

  This was a bit of a freak accident, but Amelia would have to think her way out of it as she would need to do if it had happened for real. It also might teach her to think twice about posing as someone as vulnerable as a prostitute again.

  With that final thought, he pushed open the bedroom door. Amelia was nowhere in sight but he soon saw movement from the en-suite. He let the door go behind him, slightly stunned by how the flickering candlelight played across her bare legs and lit up the black fabric of her dress.

  As the door slammed, it blew just enough air that the candle went out. He swore, and just in time, he made sure it was in Russian.

  “Power cut?” Amelia asked, her voice sounding closer than she'd appeared a few seconds before.

  “Da.” He heard the sound of her feet shuffling closer on the carpet. “Take your dress off and get on the bed.”

  Her shuffling paused, and he wondered if she'd obey. Not long after, he heard the metallic vibration as she undid the zip, and the silken rush as the dress fell to the floor in a heap. He raised an eyebrow, knowing she wouldn't be able to see it.

  The bed springs gave away her next movement, but he still didn't move. Surely, it was time for her to extricate herself from this. It was always important she have an exit strategy.

  “What would you like me to do now?” she asked, her vocal tone a little deeper than normal. He felt his spine shiver and then a flutter in the depths of his torso. If nothing else, his body was responding to having a semi-naked woman on the bed nearby.

  Outwardly, he didn't respond, but knew he had to continue. If she really intended to see this through, as unexpected as that would be, he would stop it before too long. Closing the distance between him and the bed took no time at all, but before he could get on the bed beside her the beside lamp came on, casting a pale glow across the room and showing him Amelia.

  A breath caught in his throat as she knelt in the middle of the bed in matching deep-red French knickers and push-up bra. He couldn't help but stare until he noticed she was giving him an appraising look of her own. When their eyes met she raised an eyebrow and bit down on her lip. If nothing else, Amelia knew how to ask a man to come to bed with her.

  Knowing very few men would resist that look from a woman in her state, Mycroft moved towards the bed and knelt in front of her. She parted her legs as he leant forward and then put her arms around his neck. A second later she went over backwards and he went with her, his hand finding the smooth skin of her thigh as they did.

  She pressed her lips against his in a quick kiss and then paused only millimetres from his face, inviting him to kiss her some more.

  “I thought whores never kissed on the mouth,” he said, keeping the Russian accent going.

  “I'm not your average whore,” she replied and then kissed him again. As she did she ran her fingers gently around his shirt collar until she reached his tie. Deftly, she removed it and then slid the top button back through its hole. A moment later she placed a kiss right on the base of his throat. She was definitely not the average whore.

  Feeling his groin tense with desire for the first time in years, Mycroft finally responded and crushed his lips down on top of hers, their softness parting slightly under his fierceness. As he slid his tongue in her mouth, he ran his hand up her thigh, past the lacy knickers and up to her breasts, cupping them.

  She moaned gently and flicked her hips upwards against his erection. Only then did he realise what was happening. This was Amelia, not someone he was using to slate an inconvenient desire, and he hadn't intended to ever go this far. He let go of her and lifted his torso up a little so his arms were supporting his weight more than her.

  “Have you ever seen the film True Lies?” she asked a few seconds later, studying his face as she did.

  “Nyet,” he replied.

  “Well, in it this guy who catches his wife cheating on him, with someone claiming to be a spy, tricks her into thinking she needs to help this lover of hers by posing as a prostitute. She then poses as a whore for a guy who is actually her husband in disguise.”

  “What of it?” He frowned, wondering where she was going with this. If it was an exit plan, it was a strange one.

  “She never worked out that the guy was her own husband so when he tried to seduce her she hit him with some random item in the bedroom.”

  Understanding dawned on him. Amelia wasn't trying to get out of the situation because she knew it was him. He chuckled.

  “How long have you known it was me?” he asked, dropping the accent.

  “I suspected when you came into the room with the candlelight. The way you looked at me for just a split second. But I didn't know for sure till just now.” A smug grin broke out on her face. He got off her and stood by the bed, and immediately the smile turned to a mock pout.

  He turned his head away from her body and made himself busy looking in the cabinet near him for the bug she should have planted. It gave him time to calm his body and heart rate down. The last thing he needed was for Amelia to think he wanted to have sex with her. He may be male enough that he'd screw a willing woman, but not when it would complicate his life.

  “It's in the cabinet on the other side,” she said a moment later. “And there's one behind the sink in the bathroom. I was going to put another one by the bar as I left.”

  “You had an exit strategy then?” he asked as he fetched the two bugs.

  “Of course. I was going to pretend I was sick; wouldn't have been too difficult if some other guy had groped me the way you did just now.”

  He blinked but that was the only outward expression of his response to her words. This was far too intimate. Immediately, he resumed his usual cold demeanour and stood up straight. After just a glance at her body, now laid sideways on the bed, showing off the way her hips and breasts curved, he picked up his tie and neatened his dishevelled clothing.

  “There were easier ways into the room,” he said, sounding as disapproving as he could. She shrugged.

  “I thought this one matched my skill set best, as you suggested I should do. Whatever I had the most confidence managing and wasn't too difficult. It definitely seemed to be working for a minute or two there.” She glanced at his crotch, making it very obvious what she meant.

  He hmmphed in response.

  “I have work to get back to, but you can stay here the night and enjoy the hotel's luxuries. I believe there's a health spa. I'll pick up the bill.” He walked towards the door, making his intentions clear.

  “You don't want to join me and make the most of your money?”

  “No, Amelia. I very much don't.”

  “Pity. You were doing a good job of getting me in the mood, too. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything so soon.”

  “You may have done well, especially when you weren't aware this was another test, but no, Amelia. This would not have led to us having sex, nor is it ever likely to happen.”

  With that, Mycroft walked out. Hurt had appeared in her eyes, and that was all he'd wanted. She couldn't ever think anything serious would happen between them. Even if sex was something his body needed occasionally, he would never allow it to be more than that. He was immortal and she wasn't.

  Seeing Sherlock's reaction to Watson's death was bad enough. He wouldn't allow himself to get attached to someone like that. She was a diversion and nothing else.

  Mycroft was so wrapped up in these thoughts that he stood outside the hotel before he noticed where he was, something very unexpected for him. Somehow, he'd also forgotten to dismiss his agents. He'd planned to do it as the Russian to keep any of them from knowing the whole thing was fake but that meant going back inside. Instead, he sent them a message.

  He then called for a taxi, not wanting Daniels or anyone else to see him when he wasn't his normal self. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Amelia's seduction technique had affected him and it would take him a while to compose himself. A cab ride home in the cold would have the required effect.

  The city was
still busy enough that it took almost an hour for the taxi to get him to his front door. Thankfully, it would mean both his housekeeper and Daniels would have gone home for the day, but as he walked in the front door he knew he wasn't alone.

  Sherlock appeared at the entrance to his study, a glass of brandy in his hand.

  “There you are, brother of mine. How did it go in Scotland?” Sherlock asked, but then raised an eyebrow. “I hope it wasn't Amelia who ruffled your hair like that?”

  Mycroft shot him the most scathing look he could, knowing Sherlock would smell her perfume on him as soon as he got any closer. Of all the days Sherlock could decide to visit him, it would be when he was least wanted. There was no avoiding the questions now.

  Looking pointedly at the brandy in Sherlock's hand, Mycroft pushed past him into the study. His younger brother merely laughed in response, evidently still caught up in the way Mycroft looked.

  As Mycroft sank into his favourite chair, Sherlock walked over to the desk and poured another drink. The younger Holmes still had a grin on his face when he handed the glass over.

  “Happy Valentine's Day, it seems.” He raised his glass as if toasting the ridiculous sentiment.

  Mycroft rolled his eyes.

  “I knew her female charm would wear you down eventually.”

  “Nothing happened.”

  “Something obviously did. Your tie isn't straight either.”

  “I was teaching her something. She chose to seduce her way through the task. She didn't even know it was me.” He waved his hand to distract from the last part being a lie, but from Sherlock's extra chuckle it evidently didn't work. Sometimes he wished he hadn't taught his younger brother everything he knew. “Why are you here, Sherlock?”

  “Oh, I just came to let you know I liked Amelia's article today, although I noticed it didn't have her name on. Nicely handled.”

  “Yes, well, it would have been better had you handled it.”

  “I think we both know that's not true. I've never seen you look so alive, and considering how little we've both aged, that's saying something.” Sherlock smiled, downed his drink and placed the empty glass on the desk.

  “I'll leave you to your thoughts now, brother. Good evening.”

  Mycroft let out a frustrated sigh as he heard the front door slam. At the best of times, he never liked having someone else in this room. It was his sanctuary, amongst his books and papers. But as he sat there, he remembered how Amelia had looked the second time he'd had afternoon tea with her, dressed in a similar green to the leather on top of his desk. With her deep brown hair down around her shoulders, simply because he'd said he thought it looked better that way.

  As he took in his study in the low light, he found himself picturing Amelia in there, too, and it wasn't an unpleasant scene.

  Epilogue

  Amelia took her time getting up the following morning. She'd already eaten her breakfast in bed and spent an hour writing, but she was meant to officially check out of the room even if she didn't leave the hotel in the next half hour.

  Checking she had everything, she stepped out of the room into the hallway and sighed. Although she'd enjoyed spending the night in the very luxurious hotel, she still wished Myron hadn't left so swiftly. All night, she'd dreamt of what might have transpired had he stayed, but she knew it would do her no good to dwell.

  Despite her best attempts to think of something else, she wandered down the hallway, towards the lifts, still thinking of the way his skin had felt as she'd kissed it and how his silky hair had run through her fingers. He was an attractive man and for a few minutes she'd been as close to him as she'd ever wanted to be.

  A hand clamping down on her mouth disturbed her from her thoughts, and then another arched around her middle, pinning her to a body behind. She tried to struggle, but to little benefit. A second man came rushing around her front, and as she recognised him he pulled a wad of some kind of material out of his pocket. Between them, they forced her mouth open and shoved it inside. A black bag was then yanked down over her head.

  Her panicked brain had just enough time to conclude that this was the same man who had appeared at the bar downstairs and who had followed her back from Scotland, before they picked her up between them and man-handled her back the way she'd come.

  Yells and screams came out as muffled grunts that would never be heard in any of the rooms, quickly stopping her from bothering. Instead, she tried desperately to think. She knew at least one of them was Russian, which would make it one very large coincidence if this wasn't another test from Myron so soon after he'd posed as a Russian himself. He'd know it would be too obvious.

  If it wasn't Myron, that meant only one thing. She really was being kidnapped by Russians. And if that were true, she couldn't help but think of Tom's last warning to her. Not even Myron would start a war over her safety.

  ~

  Thank you for reading The Female Charm. The sequel, The Reluctant Knight, will be available on April 29th 2016 to buy, and will be up for pre-order shortly. While you wait you might also like to try my fantasy works beginning with a free short, Wandering to Belong.

  If you would like to subscribe to the new release email to be notified of the next publication by Jess Mountifield (or Amelia Price) you can do so here.

  For a complete list of all works by the author and her pen name, separated by genre, please continue. If you have enjoyed the book you just read and would like to let the author know you can email her via books@jessmountifield.co.uk or alternatively leave a review at your place of purchase.

  Books by Jess Mountifield

  Already published

  Historical Adventure:

  With Proud Humility (#1 in the Hearts of the Seas series)

  Chains of Freedom (#4 in the Hearts of the Seas series)

  Fantasy (Tales of Ethanar):

  Wandering to Belong (Tale 1)

  Innocent Hearts (Tale 2 & 3)

  For Such a Time as This (Tale 4)

  A Fire's Sacrifice (Tale 5)

  The Hope of Winter (A short story in the anthology 'Flights of Fantasy' - Tale 6.05)

  Sci-Fi:

  Sherdan's Prophecy (#1 in the Sherdan series)

  Sherdan's Legacy (#2 in the Sherdan series)

  Sherdan's Country (#3 in the Sherdan series)

  Sherdan's Road (A short story in the anthology 'The End of the Road')

  The Slave Who'd Never Been Kissed (A novella in the anthology 'The Kiss')

  Find Purchase links here

  Coming soon

  Historical Adventure:

  Victorious Ruin (#2 in the Hearts of the Seas series)

  Fantasy (Tales of Ethanar):

  The Fire of Winter (#1 in the Winter series, Tale 6.1)

  The Tales of Ethanar anthology - containing:

  The Tales of Ethanar 1-6.05

  A Brief History of Ethanar

  Maps of Ethanar

  A Note on Dragons

  A Note on the Humanoid Races of Ethanar

  Fantasy (other):

  Angel of the Sands

  Books under Amelia Price

  Already Published

  The Hundred Year Wait (#1 in the Mycroft Holmes Adventures)

  The Boy Next Door (A short story in the anthology 'The Bitten')

  The Unexpected Coincidence (#2 in the Mycroft Holmes Adventures)

  The Invisible Amateur (#3 in the Mycroft Holmes Adventures)

  The Female Charm (#4 in the Mycroft Holmes Adventures)

  Coming soon

  The Reluctant Knight (#5 in the Mycroft Holmes Adventures)

  The Ambitious Orphan (#6 in the Mycroft Holmes Adventures)

  About the Author

  Jess was born in the quaint village of Woodbridge in the UK, has spent some of her childhood in the States and now resides near the beautiful Roman city of Bath. She lives with her husband, Phil, and her very dapsy cat, Pleaides.

  During her still relatively short life Jess has displayed an innate curiosity fo
r learning new things and has therefore studied many subjects, from maths and the sciences, to history and drama. Jess now works full time as a writer, incorporating many of the subjects she has an interest in within her plots and characters.

  When she's not working she can often be found with friends, enjoying a vast array of films, ice skating or trekking all over the English countryside.

  You can find out more about the author and her upcoming projects by following her on twitter or her fanpage on facebook or at her blog www.jessmountifield.co.uk