“Thanks, Theresa. He’s seen worse,” she twinkled.
Theresa laughed, and carrying the coat, disappeared down the hallway to shake it out somewhere other than on the polished floors and expensive carpets.
Belle hurried to the elevator, riding it to the second floor, and the small, intimate dining room where she and Simon had their meals. Walking quickly down the wide corridor, she entered to find Simon pouring coffee from a large French Press.
“Belle, what happened to you?” he asked, taking in her shaggy state.
“Sorry, I got some news this morning and I had to take a walk.”
“You don’t look bad, just a bit weathered,” Simon chuckled, “you know, from the weather?”
“Oh, very funny,” she quipped.
“Truthfully you look sexy as hell. If I didn’t have to go back to the office…” he murmured, walking towards her. “Lord, Belle, you are wet. You’d better go and get changed. You’ll catch a cold.”
“I’m fine,” she replied testily.
“Ah, no, you’re not fine. You’re cold and wet and in ill humor, so I assume this news is not good?”
“No, not good,” she replied, shaking her head, “and I apologize if I was abrupt.”
“Please go up and change, you can tell me all about it when you get back. As I said, I don’t want you catching a cold.”
“Okay, but here, read it for yourself,” she sighed, and as she handed him the crumpled note, she felt an unexpected shiver. “You’re right, I do need to get into something dry and warm. I’ll be right back.”
Simon watched her march away, and sitting back down, opened the scrunched up piece of paper. As he read the news his mind began to race, and when Belle returned, clean and dry and looking more like herself in spite of the frown that still crossed her brow, Simon was wearing the smile of the cat who ate the canary.
“What?” she asked. “You look as if you just closed a deal.”
“This,” he replied, waving the note in the air.
“I don’t understand! That news is making you happy? I can’t stand the thought of Lucinda being here, but if I refuse my mother will have a cow. I can’t win.”
“Belle, this is brilliant,” he exclaimed.
“Brilliant? There’s nothing…wait…what’s going on in that extraordinary brain of yours?”
“It’s perfect. It’s absolutely perfect. Your sister’s visit is a godsend,” he declared.
“Um, no, she’s a Devil Child,” Belle retorted, rolling her eyes. “Would you please tell me what you’re talking about.”
“Joseph. I’m talking about Joseph. I’ll have him come over here posing as Lucinda’s chauffeur, tour guide, hand-holder, whatever. He’s the ideal person to be my front man.”
“But, Lucinda is my sister. That’s a connection to you,” she protested.
“Yes, but one that can work in my favor,” he exclaimed. “Joseph isn’t on my payroll yet. We’re still in the process of setting up Sinclair Holdings in the U.S., so he’s been clerking at the law firm. Even if Hardcastle does a background check on Joseph he won’t find anything. The fact that he’ll appear to be a mere chauffeur for your sister positions him perfectly.”
“It does?” she asked, slightly perplexed.
“It does,” he replied. “Hardcastle will want to get the better of me because I’m wealthy, and using someone who will appear to resent me for the same reason will play right into his hands. I just have to continue keeping my heritage quiet. If he finds out who I am it might put him on alert.”
“That doesn’t worry me a bit,” Belle replied. “I’m still not sure I’m Duchess material.”
“I’ve told you before,” he smiled, “if there was ever an American woman who is Duchess material, it’s you Belle Somers.”
“If you say so,” she giggled
“I do, but you need to sit down and have some lunch,” he said firmly, returning to the table to finish his meal.
“Speaking of such things, I’ve never asked how I’m supposed to address you,” she grinned, standing next to him.
“Now you’re just being cheeky,” he scolded.
“This is true, but it’s still a fair question,” she pressed.
“Let’s see, if you were a stranger in formal circumstances, you would refer to me as, Your Grace, but if you’re across my knee, which could happen any minute now, then you would call me what you have always called me at such times, which is, Sir.”
“Your Grace, I like that,” she mused. “Should I curtsy when I say it?”
“Do I need to spank you to get you to sit down and have some lunch?” he asked, staring up at her and shooting her ‘the look.’
“No, no, I am still sufficiently tender from last night, thank you very much.”
Hurrying to the buffet, she piled some baked fish, mashed potatoes and carrots on her plate, and settled across from him.
“Simon, in all seriousness, is this visit from Lucinda really going to help you?”
“Help me? Belle, it’s the answer to a prayer,” he replied.
“Then I’ll do whatever I have to,” she said softly. “I’d do anything for you, Simon, even have my spoiled brat sister in this house.”
“Don’t worry, you and I will be at City View, and I’ll make sure Joseph keeps her busy,” Simon assured her, “and I’ll have Ian McCarthy and a couple of his guys stay here for added security. Lucinda is a celebrity, and rambunctious fans need to know she has serious protection.
“We will? That works,” she smiled, “but poor Joseph.”
“I wouldn’t worry about Joseph,” Simon grinned. “I have a feeling he’ll be able to handle Lucinda.”
CHAPTER THREE
Standing in the elaborate conference room of the law offices of Silas Montford, Joseph Cardinelli was sporting a very large smile. While he enjoyed working at the law firm and was eager to become involved in Simon’s company when it opened its doors, the prospect of flying to London in Simon’s private jet and becoming involved in a cloak and dagger scheme to right a reprehensible wrong, was a truly exciting prospect. That he would be posing as Lucinda Somers’ bodyguard and chauffeur made the offer even more intriguing. The three days he’d spent with Lucinda after Belle and Simon had left the country, had been an eye-opening experience.
Belle had warned him. She had told him Lucinda was stunningly beautiful, but a spoiled drama queen who was impossible to manage. He had assumed some of Belle’s cautionary words were due to sibling rivalry, or the sometimes difficult relationship that occurred between sisters, but he couldn’t have been more wrong.
Lucinda was mercurial at best, one minute sweet and amenable, the next, hurling abuse at a waiter who didn’t bring her coffee quickly enough. After three days of driving her around and showing her the sights, while he was relieved to see the last of her, there was a part of him that wished he could have spent more time with her, uncover who she really was and what made her tick. For all her high maintenance bluster, Joseph suspected a very kindhearted young woman lived inside the glamorous starlet.
Though demanding and moody, he had found her witty and bright, and he imagined she could manipulate her way into, and out of, just about anything. He had kept up with her highly publicized antics in the show business newspapers, watching her rising star rocket skyward. Having just completed her first starring role in a major motion picture, he assumed the two week vacation was for her to rest and regroup, though he couldn’t see Lucinda resting for more than five minutes; the girl he’d spent three days with had been a whirling dervish.
Hearing the conference room door open interrupted his thoughts, and turning, he saw it was Silas Montford.
“Just finished speaking with Simon,” Silas announced. “Quite a mission you’re about to undertake.”
“Apparently,” Joseph nodded. “I hope I can pull it off.”
“Simon’s right, you’re the perfect man for the job. You can think outside the box, your mind is fast and sharp, and
you have great instincts, but you have something else that will serve you well,” Silas smiled.
“And that would be?” Joseph asked, very much wanting to hear the pearl of wisdom the older man was about to drop.
“Common sense. Very few people these days possess common sense, and you have it in spades.”
“Thanks for saying so.”
“Nerves are good. It means you’re not too confident. Nerves will help you keep your edge.”
“You’re right,” Joseph nodded. “My nerves helped me when I was a marine, big time.”
“In this folder is a complete background on Darren Hardcastle,” Silas stated, placing a file on the conference table, “and not just facts and figures. Simon’s had him tracked for weeks, and in here are his favorite haunts, the women he dates, everything. He’s a creature of habit, which is going to make your job much easier.”
“Fantastic. Simon told me he was sending this information through. I’m supposed to leave with Lucinda tomorrow night. It’s all happening so fast.”
“Yes, it is. Simon didn’t know about Lucinda’s arrival in London until over the weekend. Apparently snail mail is the messenger of choice for Lucinda‘s mother. Anyway, Simon has already arranged for you to fly over with Lucinda in the company jet, and while it will make things more convenient, I suspect it’s also a bonus for you,” Silas grinned.
“That’s quite a bonus,” Joseph grinned back.
“It’s quite a job,” Silas retorted. “You’ll be able to study the file on the flight.”
“Only when I’m alone or Lucinda is sleeping. She’s such a loose cannon, she can’t know anything about this.”
“For sure,” Silas nodded. “You’d best get your skates on. Just email me a summary of what loose ends you have here before you leave.”
“Will do, thanks Silas. Wish me luck.”
“I don’t think you need it, but of course, all the very best of luck, Joseph.”
As Silas left, Joseph picked up the folder and scanned the pages. It was just as Silas had said, a comprehensive report. On the phone Simon had outlined how he saw the plan evolving, and with the information in the folder, Joseph could see how Darren Hardcastle could be baited, hooked, and landed.
Still won’t be a cakewalk, he mused, and I won’t be able to let down my guard for a minute.
Also included in the folder was Lucinda’s contact information and address, and deciding to call her from his car on his way home, he headed down to the parking garage.
Flying across to London trapped on board a plane with you, Lucinda, is going to be an experience. You won’t be sitting behind a privacy screen in a car this time.
From the newspaper reports he’d read, he knew her success hadn’t changed her a bit, unless it was to make her even more impossible.
As he drove from the parking garage into the usual busy traffic on Wilshire Blvd, he tapped her number into his phone and waited for the inevitable voicemail. It seemed no one in Los Angeles answered their cellphones, a habit he couldn’t understand and one he found continuously annoying.
“Hello?”
Her voice startled him.
“Lucinda, hi, it’s Joseph Cardinelli,” he announced. “You answered your phone.”
“Of course I answered my phone. Who did you think would answer it?”
“I’m just used to the inevitable voicemail,” he replied, shaking his head at her brusque manner.
“Oh, that, well I knew it was you. Belle emailed me your number and everything. What time are you picking me up tomorrow?”
“I’ve been well, thank you, and how are you?” he quipped. Nope, she hasn’t changed a bit.
There was an awkward silence, which Joseph refused to break, and finally she coughed. Still he didn’t speak, and she coughed again.
“Are you still there?” she demanded.
“I am,” he replied.
“You didn’t answer my question. What time are you picking me up tomorrow?”
“You didn’t answer mine. How have you been?”
“Fine,” she sighed. “I remember now, you’re difficult,” she exclaimed.
Unable to help himself, Joseph laughed out loud.
“What’s so funny?” she insisted.
“Just recalling an old saying about a kettle and a pot,” he chuckled.
“You’re not making any sense,” she responded, the exasperation clear in her voice.
“If you’d prefer someone else-”
“No, I want to travel on Simon’s jet and you’re part of the package,” she remarked.
“My goodness. Am I so terrible?”
“No…you’re just…never mind. Now would you please tell me what time you’re coming?”
“Sure. Around seven tomorrow night. Does that work?”
“Yep. See you then. Don’t be late.”
He heard the line click off and couldn’t stop grinning. It was going to be a very interesting flight.
In her modern, spacious condominium, Lucinda stared at the naked hunk walking out of her bathroom. His name was Jarrod Miller, and he was the star of a hit television series. The two of them were fast becoming a Hollywood couple, and to Lucinda’s delight the media couldn’t get enough of them. Jarrod was GQ handsome, dark-haired and green-eyed, with a husky voice and a swagger that would make any pirate jealous; he had already been touted as the second coming of James Dean.
“Wish I could come with you,” he declared.
“It’s okay,” she sighed, secretly glad that he couldn’t.
Lucinda had discovered that she wasn’t a relationship type of girl, and was usually relieved when she and Jarrod parted company. She didn’t know why, but she found being exclusive to one guy a bit confusing. He was great in bed, and whenever they went out they were swamped with attention. What more could she ask for?
“Tell me about this guy again? The one who’s going to be your bodyguard and chauffeur.”
“Nothing to tell,” she yawned, staring at his perfect tan and muscled torso.
“Still not sure I like the idea of you on a private jet with some dolt,” he scowled.
“What? You don’t you trust me?” she snapped.
“Stop with the temper, I’m not in the mood,” he glowered. “It’s not you I’m worried about.”
“He’s a bodyguard, duh!” she declared, rolling her eyes.
“Still…”
“Still nothing,” she said briskly, bouncing off the bed.
“Did you have to talk to him while you’re naked?” he complained, staring at her bouncing breasts and perfectly round bottom.
“So now the guy has supernatural vision that makes him able to see me through the phone? Honestly,” she retorted, and pulling a red silk robe from her closet, donned it quickly and headed into the living room, turning on the television. Jarrod was annoying her, and now she just wanted him to leave.
Sitting on the couch to watch the late morning entertainment shows, she could hear him sing as he dressed. With his voice and looks he could have been a rock star, and it wasn’t too late. During his next hiatus he was going to record an album and the press were already buzzing about it.
I can just imagine the girls beating down the door to his trailer, she thought, and found she didn’t really care.
“I have to get to the studio,” he declared, walking into the room.
“Okay,” she smiled, standing up and sidling over to him, pressing her breasts against his chest. “Have a wonderful day.”
“You too,” he murmured, then closed his eyes as he felt her hand press against his crotch. “You are such a tease.”
“Yep,” she purred.
“You know, one of these days I’m going to spank that gorgeous ass of yours,” he warned.
“Try it and you’ll never see me again,” she promised, dropping her hand, her eyes glinting with her threat.
“What time are you leaving tomorrow night?” he asked, his eyes dropping away, and Lucinda could feel him backing d
own, her warning having defeated him.
“7:45,” she lied, stepping back. He’s just another jellyfish. Isn’t there a single man on this planet with a backbone?
“I’m working all day but I think I can get here in time to kiss you goodbye and meet the goon.”
“Hope so,” she replied flippantly.
The last thing she wanted was for Jarrod and Joseph to meet. All that fake macho shit flying around the place would be too much, but having told him 7:45, she figured she’d be long gone.
“I’ll do my best,” he promised, and kissing her on the tip of her perfect nose, he strode out the door.
Sighing, she wandered back to her television and sank back down on her couch.
Joseph Cardinelli, he may be just a driver, but at least he’s a bit different. Maybe eight hours in a plane with him won’t be so bad.
CHAPTER FOUR
Organizing the move to City View made the following day a busy one for the Sinclair household. James, Simon’s longtime valet, along with Theresa and a small staff, would be moving to the floor directly below the penthouse.
There was much to be done, and while Henry, the butler, was overseeing the arrangements, Belle couldn’t help but double-check everything. By the time she fell into a hot tub after dinner she was exhausted, but as she sank into the steaming bubble bath, even her tired state did not prevent her from feeling anxious about her sister’s pending arrival.
She knew she hadn’t been her usual cheery self during their evening meal, and it had been Simon who had suggested the hot soak, but it didn’t help much, and she’d not stayed in the tub for very long.
After finishing up some pressing matters in his study, Simon finally made it up to their suite, but he didn’t find her watching TV in bed, or reading in front of the fire, or dozing, but pacing back in forth in the living room, drinking vodka from a martini glass.
“Belle? Why aren’t you in bed? It’s late. I thought you’d be almost asleep by now.”
“Sleep? Sleep?” she replied, her voice squeaky. “With the Devil Child about to land on the doorstep tomorrow, how can I possibly sleep?”
“She can’t be that bad,” Simon remarked.
The British Billionaire Bachelor, Act Three Page 2