“Are you going to tell me more about it eventually?”
She caught me there, “boring stuff” was too much of a quick evasion. Maybe telling her about the Wellington deal would actually improve Penelope’s opinion of me, but I don’t want to manipulate her that way.
I don’t have to. I brought her thousands of miles away from her home, everything she knows, to be with me. I don’t need to be petty.
“If you really want to know, sure.” There’s something else on her mind, I can tell. “You can ask, I told you.”
“I remember.” She looks away, then reconsiders and holds my gaze. “I’ve been wondering…You made that decision, and then you created a file for me, a to-do list, things you needed done in order to make this happen.”
I nod. None of this will come as a surprise or shock at this point. I’m efficient. I can’t afford any mistakes in my day to day life, or the sharks would have eaten me long ago.
“Sometime during that week…” She shakes her head. “A week! I still can’t believe it.”
It wasn’t exactly a week, but I don’t think that’s important for her to know right now.
“Obviously, you found out I was single, and last night you found out I’ve been for a while. I can live with that, but…what would you have done if I weren’t? Would you have gone along with the plan?”
To be honest, the idea never crossed my mind. I had my information. I felt something click between us, fall into place, in that first seemingly innocent interaction. Still, the answer might be something she won’t like, though I suspect Penelope already knows.
“There’s no need to wonder about that. I didn’t steal you from anyone.”
“…but you would have.” She halts, corrects herself. “I mean it’s not like anyone owns me. You know what I mean.”
“I do. I still believe I could have changed your mind eventually.”
“Really? Then you have to do better than this.”
It’s tricky, those moments after being together. No matter how much I wanted it, or she did, it makes me vulnerable too. I think it’s time to remind her of some facts.
“I think I did okay, but I don’t shy away from a challenge. I need to get back to work now. I’d like you to stay in the house today. We’ll see about tomorrow. Don’t bang on doors and stay away from sharp objects,” I say, brushing my fingers over her knuckles. She didn’t break the skin, but there’s still some redness, sensitivity, I can tell by the way she flinches.
I’m not fooled by the pout—she looks worried. I don’t want to scare her, on the contrary, but I can’t have her call me names and question the foundation of our relationship within less than twenty-four hours.
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
I turn back and meet her halfway, for a kiss that almost changes my mind and steals her breath.
“I know. I’ll still do better. You’ll see—or maybe you won’t.”
With that I leave her, to ponder my words and its implications. I have to see Marlene now, and then spend a few hours behind my desk.
Fire her? I chuckle at the idea. Who would arrange the romantic dinner on the private stretch of beach while I’m busy kicking Marcus Wellington in a sensitive place? Figuratively speaking, of course, which is too bad, but it’ll have to do for all the times he’s been leering at me.
He’s done worse to his employees. Today, it’ll be up to him to pay.
Afterwards, I have a date with Penelope. Life couldn’t be better.
* * * *
Who did I punish, her or me, by making us wait? I sit in my desk chair, wincing at the too distracting sensations, caused by everything I want to do to her tonight. If she’s good all day, I might let her touch me like she asked. If she’s bad, trying anything with Marlene again…She already knows I’m not going to spank her, or anything of that kind, but there are other ways to remind her she’s mine now.
I wish I could do so right now, but I have other things to do.
I spend some time making sure all the players for the Wellington deal are in place. He’s been preparing a meeting with the other party. I shake my head. He’d get too much money out of it, and not even a slap on the wrist. Not good enough, especially with the prospects of selling electronics I’ve been made aware of.
That meeting has to blow up. There’s an investigator and a reporter who’s going to make that happen for me, and then my folks will sweep in to sign the deal. They might even be able to do so without me, but it’s better to make an appearance.
Linda, the investigator, and Gillian, the attorney, will keep me up to date regarding everyone’s activities.
I like working with women, for a variety of reasons. I like being in a position where I can open doors to promising and skilled people who, otherwise, would have the same doors being slammed into their faces by somebody’s boy. You can call it my version of giving back, to help create some sort of equilibrium.
It doesn’t harm that some of them owe me. I don’t expect sex or their firstborn, but in some cases, there is a quid pro quo involved. Like Colette. She asks for a meeting the next time I’m in town. That sounds awfully formal from the FBI investigator, but if she had any real concerns, she’d be knocking on my door already. I sit back in my chair.
She’s ambitious, over-worked, driven , like all of us who have to be twice as good to get a vote and still not have earned it in the eyes of silly, immature men. I think a vacation in a private resort would do her some good, and I wanted to see her anyway, get a feel for what’s going on back home.
I did everything on my end to make Penelope’s transition into a life of luxury and abundance as smooth as I could, but of course I’m also busy chopping the Wellington empire into little pieces…Yes, I think it would be a good idea to have the meeting with Colette here. I was willing to lend a hand when no once else bothered and she almost lost her career and life—so I’ll make sure she’ll still do the same for me.
I work past lunchtime, eventually without my attention drifting to Penelope, though I stop for a moment to tell Marlene to make a light lunch only. The real deal will be served later, under the stars.
Nick joins me in my office for a coffee.
Everything is quiet, he says, but he has one concern about a new employee, some young guy we hired for the landscaping team. His mother is friends with Marlene, he has a clean record. I swear, sometimes Nick is even more paranoid than I am. I remember Penelope thought he was my husband, which amuses me.
Not in a million years.
As it is, Nick happens to be one of the few men I trust, and he takes care of business, bothering me only when it’s necessary.
“If you must look into him, you do that, but I don’t think Marlene would have him on the premises if there was any danger.”
“It’s a gut feeling,” he says. “I saw him sneaking around the house…”
“Yeah, well, I pay him for that.”
“He seems jumpy to me.” Unfortunately, Nick is hardly ever wrong on these things. With Wellington, business as usual and a new lover, I have my hands full, but I can’t ignore his concerns either.
“He’s been seen in some shady joints in town as well. That’s merely an image thing that could backfire on you, but we want to make sure it’s not worse than that.”
“You do that. Thank you. This is not such great timing.”
Nick, like Marlene, is aware of much of what is going on in my life these days. “How is she doing?”
I shrug. “Adjusting. As expected.” I didn’t lie to Penelope. If he had touched her, I would have had him killed, discreetly, no evidence, and I’d have known who to call in order to make even the sliver of a suspicion go away.
He knows it too. Of course, we’re talking completely unlikely scenarios. I don’t have people killed. Nick is one of the good guys.
Sometimes you have to take unusual measures, even when the benefits aren’t as obvious as they are in the case of taking over Wellington’s.
Of cours
e giving a woman a well-deserved break is more of an indulgence than other projects we’ve worked on, but he won’t question it. Success has much to do with surrounding yourself with the right people.
“Good.”
“You had any doubts?”
“Not my place,” Nick says. “Have you told her yet?”
I shake my head letting him know that the subject is done. “I sent Colette Grady a plane ticket,” I say. “She’ll arrive on Tuesday. Let me know what I need to know.”
Nick finishes his coffee with an air of disappointment. This man is more of a chocoholic than most women I know, but I don’t offer sweets at this time of the day. “Will do,” he says. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“Yeah, I know. You can stop by Marlene’s, I think she still has some leftover cake.”
He can’t hide the smile at this prospect.
“Go. Enjoy. It takes so little to make you happy.”
Nick laughs, but he obediently leaves me to the rest of my workday and otherwise fantasies.
Chapter Seven
“How was your day?”
Penelope looks surprised at the question, and a bit impatient. “I read. I made a list of things to check, and to read for a paper that would be due next week. Not that I’m going to get credits for it, because, as you know, I won’t actually be in class, but I’ll write it anyway. I watched a little TV in the media room. I was thinking about scrap-booking, but I didn’t want to get Marlene into trouble again. Also, I’m kind of hungry, because even though you said I could order whatever I wanted, Marlene said you didn’t want me to eat too much.”
I can’t help laughing at her rant. “I’m sure she didn’t say it like that. I have something special planned for tonight.”
Her expression softens. I pull her to me and kiss her, excited beyond measure about what the fantasy of a split-second has turned into. “So…how was your day?” I repeat.
“Getting better. I think. I still wonder why you brought me here when really, you need me for about an hour of the day.”
I hope whatever she says next will not destroy this warm, promising atmosphere between us, something that would make it look cheap.
“I am sorry. Some unexpected developments came up. I promise you I will tell you about it, but let’s eat first.” There would be no harm in telling her about Wellington, I think, but if I have to in order to make her feel better, it will be after all the special things I planned for tonight.
Penelope turns to me in surprise when we walk past the dining room.
“We’re not having dinner there?”
“No, not tonight. I think you’ll like it.”
“You’re taking me to a restaurant? First things first?” The defiant tone is gone. She is curious.
“First things first,” I say.
We leave the house via a terrace she hasn’t seen yet, because it’s on the other side of the pool. Stairs lead down to a path illuminated with lanterns until there’s sand under our feet. The sun is setting, a stunning display on the horizon. The table is set for two, a candlelight dinner with just enough of a distance so you don’t get wet feet.
The ocean is stretched out in front of us, dark and serene.
I think Penelope is speechless.
“This is a private beach,” I tell her. “You can’t see it from here, but it’s fenced in at some point. Not because of you, but for the privacy. Give it a couple of days, and you can come down here by yourself during the day, if you want. The ocean is pretty tame here, but if you want to swim don’t go out too far, the pool’s better for that. Now…sit. Enjoy.”
She sighs deeply. I know it’s not the best solution to have her cooped up in the house all the time, but what choice do I have, for now? It will be better once we can spend some uninterrupted time together and Penelope understands what this is really all about.
“Yeah, I know. After this deal, I promise you I’ll spend more time with you.”
She casts me a quick apologetic glance. “No, I wasn’t going to complain. I wanted to say thank you. This…all of this is beautiful. You still haven’t told me where we are.”
“No, and I won’t. It’s for your protection and mine. You don’t have to worry about anything. I meant it when I said you’re safe here.”
For once, Penelope doesn’t question my words. Marlene arrives, serving cocktails and appetizers, then stays at a respectful distance. That’s fine. I wasn’t planning on having sex right here on the beach, but I hoped the peaceful setting would help calm and relax Penelope, and so far, it seems to work.
“You are spoiling me senseless,” she says. “The more I think about it, the more I realize…it’s kind of cruel. At the end of the year, I might not even fit into all those clothes you bought me. You’re going to dump me, and I’ll have nothing.”
“I’m not going to dump you.” The idea is so ridiculous, it has me amused. I don’t let it show. This is a critical stage, still. “You’re not used to being pampered, even a little bit,” I observe.
“Most adult people aren’t…unless they’re rich, like you.”
Even then, you have to be able to allow the idea of giving yourself into someone’s hands completely. I have to admit I can sympathize. It would scare me too, I think. However, we’re not talking about me. I have the opportunity to provide this kind of environment for her. I want to—so this is what’s happening.
“Do you think you deserve it?”
Self-conscious, she picks up her glass, studying the contents.
“Does anybody? Can the world function like this?”
“Is this a philosophical or a practical question? I believe it can. The café will employ someone else. You’re not taking anything away from another person. It’s not like you’re never going back to university, if that’s what you want.”
She smiles, hesitantly. “I guess it’s still all a little much. It’s true, I felt like I never had time for myself, and I fantasized about reading…even shopping. Now I have a library and a giant closet to choose from. Dinner on a private beach. It’s an alternate reality.”
“You’ll get used to it,” I promise. Tomorrow, I’ll let her sleep in—she’s going to need it—after that, a spa day maybe. Once I’ve taken care of Colette, we could take a little trip somewhere. It’s safe, I have to remind myself. I took care of everything—no one is looking for her. “You won’t have to spend your days in the house, reading, either. Next week, we could go hiking, or spend some time in town if you’d like to do something physical.”
“There’s a gym in the house, right? I mean, there must be, because there is everything else. I’d like to go tomorrow, and then maybe on a regular basis. Wow, I never thought I’d say this someday.”
She is overwhelmed, obviously, but now that she’s not scared anymore, Penelope is also bored. Clearly, I have to do better, and I will. Tonight.
Waiting until there are stars out in the sky, while having dessert and an excellent coffee is all part of the romantic package. The rest of the evening will continue without Marlene.
Penelope follows me back up the stairs, a thoughtful expression on her face as I let her inside and lock behind us.
“I’ll be with you in a bit,” I tell her. “I have to prepare something…You’ll have time to wash off the sand, but don’t stay too long in the shower. You don’t need to put on clothes. A robe will do.”
She nods, and we walk to her quarters in silence. I wait in front of the door until I hear the sound of the shower. Penelope told me to do better. I can’t wait to see what she has to say about my attempt do so.
Maybe she won’t be so quiet tonight.
* * * *
I am calm as I finish my preparations, even though the anticipation is killing me. I let her surprise me yesterday, give her some leeway, but tonight will be different. Tonight, there’ll be no room for doubts, second thoughts, or…boredom. I scoff, not so much at Penelope’s mixed emotions, but my reaction to them. I got a bit cocky, thinking this smart woman w
ould kiss my feet for the chance at some lazy time.
I plan to give her much more than that.
I knock on her door as if I was obliged to. She has dried her hair, and it’s falling onto her shoulders in soft waves. She’s wearing the robe, loosely tied, nothing underneath.
I step closer, brushing a finger over her lips and then between her breasts. She draws a sharp breath, her eyes never leaving me, as I caress her hardened nipples through the soft fabric.
“You won’t regret this,” I tell her.
Penelope laughs a little, with an emotion hard to decipher. “Why would I regret anything? I didn’t…do anything, this was not my plan. Obviously, I’m going along with it, but…I still don’t know why.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, never breaking the touch.
“Why did you choose me? You’re attracted to me, and you weren’t sure if you could have me. I get that—but when did you decide I was worth all this money and trouble?”
“Does it matter?”
I slide the robe from her shoulders, exposing her to me, and then, turning her around, to the full-length mirror. Her breath catches in her throat, self-consciousness, surprise, or maybe the realization how beautiful she is in my hands.
“I don’t know,” she whispers, her cheeks flushed, but she feels relaxed and comfortable in my hold, even when my hand wanders down her body and between her legs. “This is…naughty,” Penelope finishes, for the lack of a better word, a breathless laugh following her words. “You’re not going to…oh my God, you are.”
I kiss her neck, my hand moving at a leisurely pace, and there’s as much wetness on my fingers as I can feel pooling between my own thighs. This is only the beginning though. Her eyes flutter shut. I know I could make her come within moments, but we’re not in a hurry. I am not.
I reach behind me into the bag I’ve brought. I have to be quick, because at this point, she can barely stand.
The blindfold jolts her out of the pleasant pre-orgasmic state, her voice sounding alarmed. “Wait. What is this?”
“You’re safe. Just allow yourself to let go. I’ll take care of the rest.” I slide my fingers into her hair, close them and give a firm tug. She gasps. Not from pain, I can tell. Instead, Penelope goes with the motion, leaning back into me with a content sigh. I took a chance on the light hair-pulling, but it worked. I ease her down on the bed and finish by tying her wrists to the headboard, quickly, but there’s no protest. She’s been waiting for this, wanting it, before we even met. Now, though, she wants it from me.
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