Jewels And Panties: (Book 1-15) Billionaire Romance Series

by Brooke Kinsley

  I straightened the napkin out across my lap and looked across the room. Empty tables filled the space between us and the large, plate glass windows that revealed the quaint old town outdoors. Looking down at my lasagna, I pushed in my fork and twiddled it around a strip of pasta, but it had gone cold already and I didn't feel much like eating anyway.

  "You okay?" Sean asked, a look of concern in his eyes as he slid his hand across the table.

  "Not really," I admitted. "Everything feels as though it's wrong."

  "I know what you mean," he sighed and took a sip of his wine.

  Touching my hand to the bottle, I noticed that half of it was gone.

  "But we're here to straighten things out," he continued. "Aren't we?"

  Taking a deep breath, a felt my chest begin to tighten with the prospect of having to discuss the past.

  "Yeah, that's what we're here for."

  "You left me," he said abruptly. "Or more like you fled in the middle of the night leaving me with nothing more than a scrap of paper and a sorry excuse."

  "I'm sorry, really I am but I just couldn't... I couldn't cope with anything, okay? I thought you'd be better off without me anyway. I brought you nothing but stress and-"

  "And a child," he interjected.

  "A child we couldn't keep..."

  Silence hung thickly between us. A waiter sauntered over to our table with an expectant look on his face then, sensing the tension, shrunk back behind the bar.

  "Evangeline... You know where she is."

  He clenched his eyes shut as though just the feeling of hearing her name was enough to hurt him. When he opened his eyes, they looked as though they'd changed. There was an extra layer of pain, a darkness that brooded.

  "I have this," he said as he thrust his hand into his inside pocket.

  Pulling out a neatly folded sheet of paper, he placed it into the palm of my hand. I knew what was on it and my heart beat faster. But somehow, I couldn't bring myself to unfold it and read the contents.

  "Don't you want to know?" he asked.

  "I do..." I whispered but still remained still. "It's just that there's been so much time between..."

  Tears began to prick at the backs of my eyes and I clenched my teeth in a futile attempt at stopping myself from crying.

  "It's been so long," I continued. "I’m not sure if I’m even supposed to know.”

  My heart beat even faster. I reached across the table and picked up his wine glass before taking a liberal gulp, draining it before slamming it back down on the table.

  "Okay, here it goes."

  With trembling fingers, I picked apart the corner of the paper with my fingernail. Inside there would be words that turned my world around. It would give meaning to the aching emptiness that had plagued me since I bundled up my little girl and sent her into the world with the stranger in the pink cardigan.

  As I flipped open the paper, an unfamiliar address stared back at me. I was expecting to see somewhere I knew, was thinking the moment would be more traumatic than it really was.

  "I-I don't know where this is," I stammered and pointed at it.

  "It's not far from here, about a half hour away," he explained.

  "And you've been there?" I asked with a hint of anger.

  "No. I couldn't bear to. Not yet anyway."

  I looked back down at the address.

  4325 Cherrybank Gardens

  Martingale

  It sounded like a place where white picket fences lined perfectly manicured lawns. It sounded like the sort of place where stay-at-home moms welcomed their husbands home with a Martini in a house where not a single speck of dirt resided. It sounded like the sort of place I never belonged.

  "Cherrybank Gardens sounds like it's from an old movie or something."

  "It's an up market area," Sean said as he pursed his lips. "I mean a really upmarket area."

  Despite the sadness, there was a jolt of joy in my gut. My little girl was growing up in privilege.

  "Good," I said as I folded the paper back up and slid it into my purse. "That's really good."

  ~

  "So what now?"

  We ambled along the beachside promenade to where our cars were parked. The sea air was brisk and chilled and there wasn't a palm tree in sight. Instead, the beach was covered in small rocks, ones that looked impossibly uncomfortable. Not that anyone ever lay on them. The coast faced the northern portion of the Atlantic where the water was almost freezing all year round and the sewage was pumped out into the ocean.

  "This isn't the kind of beach I remember from being a kid," I mused out loud.

  "Yeah it's not the most romantic of places.”

  We watched an albatross swing down low in front of us before landing on the rocks to devour a discarded pizza crust.

  "So, what now?" I repeated.

  He furrowed his brow and pushed his hands into his pockets.

  "I'm supposed to go back to the office but..."

  "But?"

  "But I don't want to. I only have one patient his afternoon, a Mrs. Nelson who seems to have a new disease every week along with a new boyfriend."

  He chuckled at the thought.

  "And she's eighty-three!"

  "Wow. Some girls get all the luck."

  As we approached our cars, I noticed the similarities in them. Both were the same make and model but his was black and mine was white, giving them the appearance of the duality that enshrouded our relationship, good and bad, wrong and right, brother and sister...

  "I don't wanna go home either," I said, my feet lingering on the edge of the parking lot as I hesitated walking any further.

  "Come sit with me for a while," he offered as he gestured to the passenger side of his car. "I could use the company."

  We both knew what that meant but it felt too late to turn back.

  He clicked the door open and I sunk low into the seat, my eyes scanning the waves for a glint of sunshine. The clouds seemed to darken in front of me, growing heavy and swollen with rain.

  "A little music?" he asked as he turned the dial on the stereo.

  "Sure."

  As a soft voice drifted out the speakers as we both looked out to the sea with the same thoughts running through our heads.

  "It's been a long while since we were together at the beach," he said.

  "I was thinking that same thing."

  "It's not quite the same, is it?"

  "Nothing ever is when you’re an adult."

  He lit a cigarette and opened the window.

  "I feel like I've been here before," I said.

  It was more of a feeling than a memory, the sense that I'd been staring out into the abyss of the ocean before, a lifetime ago perhaps.

  "Déjà vu?" he asked.

  "I don't know..."

  A few raindrops scattered across the windshield and soon the few turned to hundreds and there was a cascade of water drenching the car. We rocked gently in the wind, the beach disappearing from view in a haze of low cloud and torrential rain. I turned to him and he reached a hand out to touch my thigh.

  "It doesn't look as though we're going anywhere in this," I said.

  He said nothing and tossed the cigarette end out the window before winding the window up.

  "Come sit on my lap," he said and patted his thighs.

  "Sit on your lap?" I laughed. "I'm not as small as I used to be."

  "Sure you are!"

  Maneuvering over the gearstick and making sure not to hit my heels off the pedals, I lowered down onto his lap and felt his arms wrap around me.

  "This is nice," I said as I leaned my head against the window. "I missed this."

  "Me too," he whispered in my ear as he brushed the hair from my neck.

  He kissed me softly and breathed the scent of my perfume in deeply. He was hard beneath me, his hips pushing up slowly.

  "Are you sure?" I asked as I leaned back.

  He ran a hand up my body and cupped my breasts.

  "There's no
one here," he said.

  "That's not what I meant."

  He grew harder as he ran his finger down the length of my back. Pulling down the zip, he kissed my back as he unhooked my bra.

  "I've not been able to stop thinking about you," he breathed, his hands pulling up my dress to expose my thighs.

  "I've been thinking about you too," I replied, my body responding to him.

  As he pulled my panties to the side, his fingers grazed me, feeling my wetness.

  "You're ready," he said.

  I could see his wicked smile in the rearview mirror, could see the lust in his eyes.

  As he entered me, my breath left my body, the windows steaming up as we began moving together.

  "Slow..." I whispered, my hand against the cold glass. "Go slower."

  We rocked back and forth gently, his lips on my neck and his hands around my small waist, his fingers almost touching.

  "You still feel the same," he said.

  Resting my back against his chest, I could feel his heartbeat throb.

  "There's never been anyone that felt like you," he said, his hand sliding down between my legs.

  He rubbed slowly, my teeth sinking into my lip as I felt the rush of pleasure.

  "Uuuh...."

  "You like that?"

  I nodded, unable to speak in anything more than a gasp.

  He rubbed a little faster, began thrusting harder.

  "Slow down!" I cried. "I'll... I'll.."

  But it was too late. I was coming hard, a torrent of liquid pleasure flowing through me until my legs were seizing, convulsing, clenching together as we reached a climax.

  When the sound of my screaming stopped, the noise of the heavy rain began filtering back into my senses. It battered off the car like needles on a tin roof. Behind me, Sean breathed heavy, one hand clapped to his forehead and the other still tight around my waist. Our eyes met in the mirror and I saw his ruby red complexion and the way his cheeks shone from the physical exertion.

  "It always gets better with you," he said, his words coming out in short, sharp gasps.

  Climbing off him, I crawled back over to the passenger side and began rearranging my clothes.

  "I wish it wasn't always so sleazy between us. One day we'll get to make love in a bed like a real couple."

  "Maybe one day we'll actually be a real couple."

  Our eyes met again. There was a softness on his face and a look of sadness.

  "Is that what you want?" I asked.

  He said nothing but nodded ever so slightly I almost missed it. Then he closed his eyes and turned away.

  "I want that too but-"

  "You left," he interrupted. "We could have been..."

  The sadness welled up within me once again.

  "Is there still a chance?" I asked, my fingers curling around his wrist as I tried to pull him back to me.

  "I'd like to hope there is," he replied, his eyes still fixated on something far down the beach.

  The rain began to ease up and at last, a sliver of pale, yellow sunlight began to push its way through the murky, gray cloud. It landed across the hood of the car, the arch of a rainbow glinting along the tops of the waves.

  "I suppose Mrs. Nelson shouldn't be kept waiting," he said as he clicked shut his seat belt.

  "And I guess Arthur shouldn't be either..."

  Chapter Two

  Arthur

  Her eyes were on me but her mind was elsewhere. She was saying all the right things, nodding her head at the right time but I could tell she didn't care about a single thing I said.

  "So I said to Gerald that there was maybe a chance my next project would secure me a million dollars." I said, trying to see if she was listening or not.

  "Yeah, that's great, honey."

  She twirled her spaghetti around her fork and nodded.

  "Paige, did you just hear what I said."

  She looked up at the ceiling in thought, her face blank.

  "Sorry," she shook her head. "I didn't quite catch it, no. Have a lot on at the office and, you know, my mind's all over the place."

  "Have a lot on at the office, eh?"

  There was a burning feeling in my gut. I knew she wasn't in the office because I'd phoned in earlier to speak to her and her secretary told me she'd taken the whole week off.

  "Yeah, loads on at the office. Mortgages don't arrange themselves, you know."

  Her lips parted to reveal a fake smile.

  Should I tell her now that I know she's lying or do I wait? After all, I know she's up to something but I can't prove anything. Not to mention she always was a strange girl, keeping herself hidden away and her feelings guarded.

  "So you were at the office today?" I asked.

  "Uhuh..."

  She set her fork down, her food almost untouched.

  I eyed her carefully for signs that her unwavering facade might eventually crack but there was nothing, not a hint of guilt or a sign that she was hiding something. But I knew...

  "I didn't notice your car in the office parking lot," I said and her eyes widened in panic.

  "Why were you at my work?" she asked, her voice tinged with anger.

  "Well...erm... I was just passing."

  "But you work over the other side of the city," she said with a deepening frown.

  Now it was her turn to be suspicious. I, of course, wasn't just passing and she knew it.

  "Arthur? Are you following me?" she asked as she leaned across the table.

  "Why would I be following you?" I gulped with a sudden heat prickling at my forehead.

  "I don't know. Why do people do anything?"

  She cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips.

  "I'm not following you," I reassured her. "I was just passing on my way to my mom's house earlier and I-"

  "Your mom's on vacation..."

  We stared at each other for an excruciating second, each of too scared to admit our lies in case our whole lives fell apart. When we couldn't look at each other anymore, she stood up and cleared the table.

  "I think I'll go for a bath," she sighed as she walked away.

  "Sure, I have work to do. If you need me I'll be in the study."

  ~

  I waited until the sound of taps had stopped creaking and the water splashed gently as she lowered herself into the bathtub. Then I tiptoed across the landing to where her handbag lay slung over the banister. My mother had always told me that snooping around inside a woman's purse was a sin, the greatest invasion of privacy. If my brothers and I were ever caught with our hands in her purse we'd get a swift smack to the back of the head. A lady's purse was sacred and that was that, but right now I was starting to think that Paige was no lady at all. She was up to something, she was seeing someone else. She thought I'd never know but I could smell him on her; the scent of thick cologne, the smell of sex and sweat. Not to mention I'd noticed her showering more than usual, taking the stairs two at a time as she hurried to the bathroom upon arriving home.

  As I clicked open her handbag and looked inside, I wasn't sure what I was looking for. It wasn't like I was searching for the Holy Grail or anything, I wasn't expecting to see a used condom with a note attached saying "congratulations I fucked your wife". But I was at least expecting something.

  On the surface, there appeared to be nothing out the ordinary. An array of makeup tubes lay along the bottom with a few candy wrappers clogging up the inner pockets. Her credit cards were all tucked away neatly with her tampons squirreled away in an inner compartment. No condoms, no random phone numbers scrawled across a scrap of paper. All that was left to check was her phone. Never once, had I considered checking it, but now it was too tempting and as I flipped open the case, a small folded sheet of paper tumbled out.

  "Ahah..."

  Expecting to see a guy's name and a number, I pulled it open and saw... What the hell is this? An address over at Martingale. The neighborhood where my boss lived in a sprawling multi-million dollar home. What was she doing t
here? There was no name, no other information. I made a mental note of the address and pushed it back in place. Cherrybank Gardens, I thought. I'd never heard of it although everyone in the office was slightly familiar with the area. It was, after all, where all the big shots lived, where everyone aspired to be. I'd had fantasies of owning a glorious six bed roomed home there one day where I could raise a litter of children.

  Paige was there?

  Suddenly, images of high class swingers’ parties ran through my mind. It was the sort of place filmmakers delighted in concocting a story with high class escorts, high rolling lawyers, and esoteric secrets. But... it couldn't be, could it?

  I have to know.

  It took only two attempts to unlock her phone, typing in her date of birth as her password. Scanning through her phone calls, I saw nothing out the ordinary. She'd called her secretary, made a few calls to her psychiatrist's office and spoke to her parents.

  Her text messages, on the other hand, told a different story. There were numerous messages from S.

  Meet me over at The Pacifica in Nealston on the promenade, can't risk being seen here.

  It was sent this morning.

  For a long while, I stood shaking in the darkness of the hallway listening to the sound of the bathwater splashing. When I felt as though my chest was in a vice grip, I struggled to take a breath, placed the phone back in the bag and hung it back over the banister.

  I could kill her. I could kill her right now, march up to the bathroom and hold her beneath the water until she was sorry and lifeless.

  Fear spread over me as I realized, for the first time in my life, that I was capable of killing someone.

  I could do it, I could really do it. Do it!

  I closed my eyes and curled my fingers into fists, pushing my fingernails deep into the palm of my hand to distract myself.

  "Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..."

  When the pain my hands equaled the pain inside, I unfurled my fingers and walked into my office. Pouring myself a brandy, I drank it straight and quick, feeling it burn the back of my throat.

  "How could she?"

  My mother always told me she had a bad vibe about Paige, always said she acted like she was above her station.