The British Billionaire Bachelor, Act Three

by Maggie Carpenter

  “Now then,” he sighed, sitting down, “play with yourself.”

  Belle was lost in her heat, and dropping her fingers where his hand had just traveled, she circled and rubbed her clit. She knew he was seated between her legs, watching every lewd move, and when she felt his soft palm caress the inside of her thigh, she groaned and rubbed harder, spurred on by his touch.

  “Hmmm, very nice,” he purred, but a moment later his hand slapped down, eliciting a shocked cry.

  “Such a beautiful palm print,” he remarked, tracing the image with his finger.

  “Sir…”

  “Yes, Belle?”

  “You’re driving me mad,” she whimpered.

  “Is that a complaint?”

  “No, Sir, I love it.”

  Smiling, he stood up and unfolded his small stick, snapping the two ends together, then slid it along the warm, pink mark.

  “I’m going to tap you, Belle, with my little rod, and continue tapping you until you come.”

  “Oooh, yes, Sir,” she groaned.

  Lightly flicking the small stick against her skin, he watched her writhe and moan as the tingling bites marked her flesh. Keeping the miniature rod on her inner thigh, he alternated legs, moving in an upward then downward pattern, making sure not to smack the same spot twice. The red blotches created a tapestry of hot pain, and as her cries of pleasure escalated, so too did the sting of his tiny cane, until at last she wailed, the intense orgasm streaming through her sex, causing her back to arch and her legs to close tightly across her hand.

  Simon’s cock, still tucked away in his trousers, was at its bursting point, and dropping the stick he quickly unzipped and pulled it out, rubbing urgently, releasing his hot cream and spilling it over her reddened thighs, then closing his eyes, he succumbed to the warm sweetness that engulfed him.

  Dropping into a chair he took a few moments to catch his breath before reaching for a clean napkin. Wiping himself, then Belle, he moved to the top of the table, leaned over, and languidly moved his lips against hers, the long, warm, loving kiss, the cherry on top of the delicious cake.

  “You are exquisite,” he murmured.

  “Simon, that was amazing,” she sighed, lifting her arms and placing them around his neck. “I wish you didn’t have to leave. I want to go back to bed and lay in your arms all day.”

  “Mmmm, that sounds divine,” he smiled, “but…”

  “I know,” she lamented, “duty calls.”

  “What will you be doing to stay out of mischief?” he smiled, extricating himself from her hold.

  “I still have some things to organize around here,” she replied, “and I have a germ of an idea percolating, but I don’t want to tell you about it yet.”

  “Sounds interesting,” he remarked, “now I must get out of here. I’ll call you later.”

  Pecking her on the lips, once, then again, he smiled and winked before heading off to grab his suit coat from his closet, and his briefcase from the study. By the time he returned, Belle had straightened up the table, and after stuffing her torn knickers into a plastic bag, had discarded them in the trash.

  “Have a wonderful day, wonderful man,” she smiled, hugging him.

  “You too,” he replied.

  Holding his hand she walked him to the elevator, and watched as he disappeared behind the closing doors.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Joseph was driving a Lexus that Simon had borrowed from his office car pool, and as he maneuvered it through the heavy London traffic, Lucinda spent her time constantly checking her makeup and hair. As the restaurant came into view, Joseph spied the photographers gathered around the entrance.

  “The press are here to greet you,” he remarked. “Time to put away all that goo.”

  “It’s not goo,” Lucinda retorted.

  “You’re gorgeous. You don’t need any of that war paint,” he commented, shaking his head.

  “Shows what you know. Flash bulbs and daylight totally change your appearance. This goo, as you call it, is for the camera.”

  “I stand corrected,” Joseph chuckled, respecting her savvy, and as he pulled the car into the curb, he turned and smiled. “Goo or no goo, you’re still Lucinda Somers, so go wow ‘em.”

  “You can’t charm me, Joseph Cardinelli, I’m still mad at you.”

  “Your public awaits, young lady,” he replied, refusing to rise to the bait, and pushing the button on his armrest, released the locks.

  A valet who had been standing ready immediately opened the door, and when she stepped out in her fishnet-stockinged legs and red stilettos, Joseph heard the cheers and whistles. The short black skirt and red and black blouse with a black faux fur vest was glamorous and eye-catching, and she was instantly peppered with questions as the flash bulbs popped.

  Joseph darted around the car and took her by the elbow, but Lucinda had no intention of rushing anywhere, ambling past the press sporting a radiant smile, complimenting them on their marvelous city.

  Joseph stepped back to watch, and as she struck pose after pose for the insatiable appetite of the various cameras, he couldn’t help but admire her; she was in her element, and she was loving every minute. Finally joining her, he leaned in and whispered in her ear.

  “Always leave them wanting more.”

  She flashed him a look of acknowledgement, and let him guide her inside the door.

  “Wow, that’s how to enter a restaurant,” she grinned.

  “Let’s check in with the hostess, then have a drink at the bar before we eat,” Joseph suggested.

  “I’d rather go straight to the table,” she argued.

  “Not if you want to be seen,” he said quietly. “Trust me.”

  Hardcastle always sat at the bar before heading into the dining room, and it was where Simon wanted Joseph to intercept him.

  “Oh, okay,” Lucinda nodded.

  After introducing himself to the elegant woman behind the podium, Joseph moved across to the bar, standing behind Lucinda as she perched on a bar stool. She ordered the predictable glass of champagne, but needing to stay sharp and on his toes, Joseph stuck to orange juice.

  Hardcastle was known to arrive around 11:50 every Wednesday, and checking his watch Joseph saw it was 11:53. He looked towards the door, and as if on cue, the man whose photograph he’d been studying for the last three days entered the restaurant.

  Dressed in an elegantly tailored, pinstriped suit, Hardcastle was better looking than his pictures, and the hostess nodded her head in greeting. Lucinda was chatting away, but Joseph was fixated on Hardcastle, watching him with his keen peripheral vision, and when Joseph saw the man recognize Lucinda and immediately walk forward, he quickly turned his back to him.

  Lucinda had to move sideways on her stool to continue her dialogue, forcing Hardcastle to make a choice; face Lucinda or face Joseph, either way he’d be behind one of them. It was a purposeful maneuver by Joseph, designed to make Hardcastle feel slightly awkward.

  “Excuse me,” Hardcastle said, finally deciding to stand behind Lucinda and catch Joseph’s eye.

  “Yes?” Joseph replied, casually glancing up.

  Lucinda turned her head, and Hardcastle felt his blood pressure rise; she was even more stunning than she’d appeared in the newspapers.

  “Allow me to introduce myself,” he smiled, offering Joseph his card. “Darren Hardcastle. I’m delighted to make your acquaintance. Among other things, I’m in the personal management business. You may know one of my clients, Robbie Cobalt?”

  Lucinda’s face lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree. Robbie Cobalt was a bluesy, handsome rocker, with jet black hair and deep blue eyes, and his last three albums had gone platinum. The information of course, had been in Hardcastle’s dossier and wasn’t news to Joseph, but he feigned surprise.

  “Joseph Cardinelli,” he said, extending his hand, “and of course, I’m sure you know this is Lucinda Somers.”

  “I certainly do,’ Hardcastle gushed, “and I’m delighted
to run into you.”

  “Thanks,” she smiled, parting her glossy crimson lips to show stunningly white, even teeth. “You really manage Robbie Cobalt?” she purred.

  Hardcastle grinned. It worked every time.

  “Yes, I do. I could arrange a meeting if you’re interested,” he suggested, waving the carrot. “I’m sure Robbie would be thrilled to meet you.”

  “I think,” Joseph began, “Lucinda has-”

  “I’d love that,” Lucinda nodded, cutting Joseph off, just as he knew she would.

  “I’m having a dinner party in his honor on Friday night. Why don’t you come along?” Hardcastle smiled.

  “That’s very kind of you,” Joseph declared. “Lucinda?”

  “Yes, definitely,” Lucinda beamed.

  “Here’s my home address,” he continued, pulling out a small notebook and scribbling with a Mont Blanc pen. “Any time between seven and eight,” he continued, tearing out the piece of paper and handing it to Joseph.

  “We’ll be looking forward to it,” Joseph smiled, and I can’t believe how easy you’ve made this.

  “Darren,” Lucinda chirped, “does Robbie have that last name because of his eyes?”

  “Yes, it was my idea,” Hardcastle nodded proudly. “I’m full of ideas.”

  “Lucinda, I think we’d best be moving into the dining room,” Joseph suggested, taking her elbow and giving it a squeeze.

  “Yes, we should. I have a ton of shopping to do this afternoon,” she giggled.

  “You’re most charming,” Hardcastle said smoothly. “I’ll probably see you inside. Maybe we’ll be lucky and our tables will be near each other.”

  “Maybe they will,” Joseph replied. How about, right next to you?

  As Hardcastle watched her swan away, his eyes resting on her round, perfect backside, without turning his head he called out his order for a whiskey.

  Talk about a lucky coincidence. Won’t be easy getting a cool group together at such short notice, but I’ll make it happen.

  “Afternoon, Darren,” said a tall, blond man, slowly approaching. It was Brandon Witherspoon, the man he had lunch with every Wednesday. Brandon was a private investigator and on Darren Hardcastle’s payroll. “Wasn’t that Lucinda Somers you were just talking to?”

  “Yes, Brandon, it certainly was. After lunch do a complete background check on that chap with her, Joseph Cardinelli. I need it right away,” he declared, and turning to the bar, found his whiskey on the counter. Downing it in one gulp, he shook his head, then slapped Brandon on the shoulder. “Now let’s go and have some food.”

  Hardcastle had a permanent reservation at the same table every week, and when he saw Lucinda and Joseph seated directly next to it, he was hard-pressed to control his delight.

  Lucky stars are shining on me today. Should I invite them to join me? No, that would be too pushy, but I’ll pick up the tab. That should seal the deal.

  “Look at this,” he beamed as he approached. “It must be fate.”

  “Oh, my gosh,” Lucinda replied, equally astonished. “It must be.”

  “I don’t want to interrupt,” he said politely, “but I must tell you, the crab cakes here are famous because they’re fabulous.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she smiled.

  Joseph had selected the chair closest to Hardcastle’s table, and once he and Lucinda had placed their orders, he sat back and sipped his coffee, letting Lucinda tell him about all the stores she wanted to visit, the first of which was Harrods.

  “You should keep your eyes open for something to buy Simon,” Joseph began, “though what you could get for a man who has everything is beyond me.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Lucinda replied thoughtfully. “Do you have any suggestions?”

  “None,” Joseph replied, hoping Hardcastle had beamed into their conversation. “He’s so prolific.”

  “What do you mean?” Lucinda asked, stepping through the door Joseph had opened.

  Hardcastle, are you paying attention?

  “You know about this health food grocery store chain he’s started?”

  “Not really,” she frowned.

  “He’s building supermarkets, offering organic produce and all kinds of healthy food.”

  “Cool, but don’t they have places like that here already?” she asked.

  “Probably, but I suspect his will be bigger and better, like everything he does. Anyway, before he and Belle took off yesterday, I overheard him on the phone. He’s buying up acres of land to create his own organic crops and build an entire community around them. It’s huge. It’s as if he’s starting a whole town from scratch.”

  “You’re kidding? Must be costing him a fortune,” Lucinda exclaimed.

  “That’s just it. I heard him say he didn’t care how much this land costs. He’s been looking all over and he’s finally found the acreage he wants.”

  “I guess if you have billions like Simon, whatever you want you can have, and the money doesn’t matter,” Lucinda sighed.

  “Exactly, so like I said, a man like Simon, what the hell can you buy him?” Joseph sighed, deftly returning the conversation to the original question.

  “I’ll find him something. I can be clever sometimes.”

  “No doubt,” Joseph smiled.

  Their lunch was served, and they chatted about Lucinda’s last visit to London, what she’d done and where she’d been, and just as the plates were cleared away, an elegant looking woman approached the table.

  “Please forgive the intrusion,” she apologized discreetly, “my name is Emily Porter, and I’m a journalist for Mind Spring.”

  “Mind Spring, that’s a terrific magazine,” Joseph declared, and you’re right on time.

  “Thank you. As you may or may not know, while it’s a magazine that revolves around innovation, twice a year we feature a celebrity, someone new and exciting, and when I saw you, Lucinda, I thought what an interesting idea it might be to have you as our feature celebrity. We’ve had musicians, chefs, singers, but it’s been a few years since we’ve had an actress. Would you be interested?”

  “For sure,” Lucinda beamed.

  “Marvelous. Could I impose upon you to pop over to my table for a few minutes, meet my editor, have a quick chat? You wouldn’t mind, would you, uh…?”

  “Joseph Cardinelli,” Joseph smiled. “Not at all. You go ahead, Lucinda. I’ll order us dessert.”

  “Great, thanks,” she smiled, and rising from her chair, followed the journalist to a table across the room.

  Joseph called the waiter over and ordered some more coffee, his fingers crossed that Hardcastle had overheard the conversation and would bite.

  “She left you on your own, Joseph?” Hardcastle commented, leaning across the small space between them.

  “She did,” Joseph replied, turning around, and thank you so much for taking the bait.

  “My associate was called away. Seems we’re in the same boat. Why don’t I join you until Lucinda returns?”

  “You’d be most welcome,” Joseph nodded.

  “How did you become her bodyguard?” Hardcastle asked as he settled into a chair. “You must be the envy of your colleagues.”

  “I was her chauffeur for a few days when she first arrived in Los Angeles,” Joseph explained. “I double as a bodyguard.”

  “Huh. How did that happen?”

  “I was working at the Bel Air Hotel and met Belle, Sinclair’s girlfriend. Just so happened her sister, that’s Lucinda of course, was about to arrive and Belle was leaving to come back here with Sinclair, so she asked me if I’d help out and show her sister around.”

  “Ah, I see, and Lucinda liked you, so…”

  “Yep, something like that,” Joseph smiled.

  “Just out of curiosity, what do you think of the famous Simon Sinclair?”

  “No opinion,” Joseph replied, “and that’s not being diplomatic. I don’t know the man.”

  “I hear his house is extraordinary,” H
ardcastle continued.

  “From what I’ve seen, yes, it is.”

  “What else do you do besides drive and protect people?”

  “I do all kinds of things, but my main gig is clerking at a law firm in Beverly Hills. I just don’t know if I want to be a lawyer full-time. I get claustrophobic working in an office all day. Why do you ask?” Joseph inquired.

  “You seem to be a bright young man,” Hardcastle replied. “I’m always looking for bright young men.”

  “Oh, well, thanks, but I’m just here for two weeks. The money and the trip, it was too good to turn down, and when she goes back I do too, besides, I don’t have any kind of permit to work in the U.K.,” Joseph finished, playing hard to get.

  “What if you could pick up a bit of extra cash while you’re here,” Hardcastle pressed, “off the radar?”

  “Sure, but I have to be with Lucinda constantly, so I’m not available for outside gigs.”

  “Ah, speaking of the young lady, she’s returning. What I have in mind won’t take you away from her, but we can discuss it further on Friday night,” Hardcastle declared, standing up as Lucinda approached.

  “Fine, if you want,” Joseph said easily.

  “I think it will be mutually beneficial,” Hardcastle nodded. “Lucinda, I’m looking forward to seeing you on Friday.”

  “Thanks, Darren,” she smiled, taking her seat.

  Joseph watched him return to his table, brimming with confidence and ego.

  The fish had taken the bait.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Besides the incredible food, that was one of the nicest meals I’ve ever had, with my sister present I mean,” Belle proclaimed.

  It was Thursday night, and she and Simon had just had dinner with Lucinda and Joseph at Dabbous, one of London’s hottest new restaurants.

  “I think she was just exhausted from two days of shopping,” Simon chuckled. “From what she described, she’s going to have to buy another suitcase to get all those clothes back to L.A.”

  “You might be right,” Belle laughed.

  “I think she was about to say something sarcastic to you a few times, but she bit her tongue,” Simon remarked. “Amazing what a good spanking can accomplish.