I look around the bedroom for a hairbrush, cautious as a cat burglar. Surely there’s a comb or something here. If I had my bag, I wouldn’t have this damn problem.
I open a small top drawer in a long dresser. Perfect, there is a brush, not just one, but a set of elegant hairbrushes in a red velvet case, and all look brand new. I lift the largest brush to the roots of my damp hair and give it the once over, before quickly putting it back where it came from.
Your furry teeth Liz.
I quickly dash into the bathroom and look at the sinks. There’s not one toothbrush. There’s paste and mouthwash in the white cabinet, but nothing else. I can’t speak to him with rancid breath. Oh sod it. I squeeze a small blue blob of minty paste on my finger, and rub my teeth.
Okay, now I’m as ready as I can be. He seemed pleasant enough earlier, and like he once said, he doesn’t bite. I draw in a long breath as I timidly move through the wall panel.
Oh good. He’s not here. It gives me some time to arrange the questions in my head. Sara trots across the floor. She smiles. It’s a strange, I know something you don’t kind of smirk. She takes the wet towel from me between her thumb and finger, holding it at an arms-length like I’ve just wiped my ass on it.
“Mr Knight is waiting for you.” She gestures her head. “Straight on and through the door.”
Oh hell. Why does there have to be a slow walk and a door? I suck in my lip, and begin the long journey.
My pulse quickens and blood warms my cheekbones as I stare at the solid oak door ahead. My bare feet sweat, leaving nervous prints on the marble. I stop and stand with my nose practically touching the wood. I’m so close I can smell the varnish. I lift my hand and make a fist, but clam up.
“Elizabeth, come through,” he says, before I knock.
I hope there are no cameras observing my pathetic reaction outside this door. My eyes quickly scour above. Not a camera in sight. He can probably hear my freaked out mumbling.
I slowly pull down the handle, telling myself not to look at him. Just go in there, close the door, and ask where my handbag is and what he’s playing at bringing me here.
I hobble through, and now I have my face against the wood again with my back to him. My chest swells in and out to full capacity.
“Nice view, but I’d like to see your face, Elizabeth.” His husky tone tempts me to the point of ignition.
I turn with the aim of appearing determined, but end up a clumsy twitching sweaty mess. And now a large bump has formed in my throat, repressing my speech. I can’t do this. I’m going to pass-out at any moment.
He’s sitting at his desk. It’s old and has a large green leather writing mat in the centre. It’s very dim in here with no windows. The only lighting is a gold down lamp on his desk.
He leans back in his green chesterfield chair with a dainty grin, studying me over the rim of his designer frames. Even his glasses don’t mask his turbulent gaze.
I swallow, looking at the tall bookshelf behind his head to give my eyes a brief break. It’s full of thick black and red volumes. There’s no titles on any of the spines, just embossed gold numbers from one to seventy-six.
“Why haven’t you drunk this?” He holds out the bottle of green liquid that Sara gave me. “It’s a simple tonic to help alleviate your symptoms. It won’t kill you,” he says firmly.
I have a better remedy that will alleviate my symptoms right now, and it is not that tonic, Mr Knight.
“What’s in it?” I ask.
I march forward, take the bottle, and unintentionally gawp at a small section of his skin beneath his V-neck. I quickly take a nervous back step, to see his lips pouting. God, he knows. It’s so obvious. I may as well be standing here with my tongue hanging out.
“Come Elizabeth, drink your tonic, and I’ll fix you coffee.” He stands up beaming shrewdly, placing his glasses on the desk.
He waits for me to drink as I swish the fluid around. I don’t want to think this way, but I’m wary of it. His eyes scold, unimpressed.
“Here, hand it to me.” He wiggles his fingers.
I place the bottle in his hand and his fingers brush over mine, delicately. His accidental touch sends a tidal rush of desire throughout my body.
“I’ll drink some first, then will you trust it is exactly what I say it is?”
I nod in agreement, biting my cheek as his thumb glides seductively across my wrist.
He unscrews the small cap and tips a quarter into his mouth. His lips cover the rim in slow-motion; lips that I want on me. I’m incapable of blinking. What I’m seeing cannot be disturbed by a bat of my lashes. Submerged in a state of utter need, I imagine him caressing me tenderly with them, like what he’s doing with that bottle right now.
He hands the tonic to me, glistening wet around the rim. He watches with great concentration as I place it against my bottom lip and pour it into my mouth. It’s quite warm and syrupy. It tastes like crème de menthe and coats my throat pleasantly.
“See, if I wanted to harm you Elizabeth, I’ve had ample opportunity to do so.” He opens the door for me, and I timidly follow him into the living area.
“Yes, about that. It’s... it’s not right, you bringing me here.” I hold in an anxious breath.
“If you want to leave, the door is there,” he says as I follow his quick steps.
“This isn’t normal,” I mumble. “You do know that don’t you? Or do you do this kind of thing all the time?”
“I’m not the kind of man to leave a lady passed-out in the corridor of my establishment. Forgive my concern. Next time I will leave you in your own vomit.”
“Oh god. It was the wine. Was I that bad?” I close my eyes and stop beside the dining table.
“Yes, you were. But it’s forgotten. I was leaving myself and improvised, because I couldn’t find your friend. Again I’m sorry.” He pulls a chair out from under the excessively big dining table, then goes into the kitchen. “Please, sit.”
I drop down into the chair, breathing in and out deeply, as he opens one of the kitchen cupboards.
“Do you entertain often?” I ask, wanting to get off the topic of last night.
“Yes.” Great. I’m so hopeless at small talk. “Do you take sugar?” he asks.
“Yes... please.” I roll my eyes.
He takes a selection of sugars in a crystal bowl out from beneath the green granite surface, and places them on the kitchen island. I’m kind of awestruck. I’m sitting in some multimillion pound penthouse, and Mr Knight is making me coffee. Suck it in Liz.
“So...” I try not to shout, but he’s a good fifteen feet away from me. “What’s Washington and the Big Apple like? I mean, is it as chaotic as London?”
Jeez Liz. Shut up. If all that’s going to come out of your mouth is verbal diarrhoea, be silent. I inhale, hoping he doesn’t find me as ditzy as I find myself.
“Why Miss Lovell, I do not believe I have discussed such details with you yet.” He smirks wickedly as I sink into the chair, burning up. Now he knows I’ve been researching his background. He knows I’m more than interested in him. “Elizabeth, calm down. I told you already, I don’t bite.”
Full of shame, I glance through the wall of windows, noticing each one is coated with a tint. The view is stunning. I can nearly see the whole city from here. Tower Bridge, the River Thames, and the old and new parts of London across the horizon.
“Where am I?” I finally ask the question I should have asked long ago.
“It’s one of my pit-stops in this country. I travel frequently, and I like my own place,” he says.
Okay, he’s boasting now. Of course he has several of these properties all over the globe. He probably owns a castle somewhere too.
“So, I’m where exactly?” I ask again, peering at the grey sky.
“You can’t work it out from the view?” He sounds surprised. “Look. We’re on the sixty-third floor of The Shard.” He glides his hand from window to window.
Sure we are. What a silly
question Liz. I do apologise Mr Knight. Liz, you’re in the penthouse in one of London’s most famous buildings, get a grip.
I watch him slyly. He pulls down one of the handleless cupboards to reveal a state-of-the-art, the whole shebang coffeemaker. He takes out a tiny espresso cup, and a cappuccino style mug.
“What would you like?” he asks. “I think espresso.” Okay, that’s dig number one for our encounter at Aroma. “After last night, you’ll be needing a pick me up.” There it is, dig number two.
I won’t tell him I’m not a fan of espresso. I guess I do deserve those jibes.
He brings my coffee and the sugar over to the table. I’m hung-over dehydrated and don’t think espresso will help, but I do need fluids, so rummage around the crystal bowl to take out a sachet of demerara. I rip, tip, and stir, then lift the cup to my mouth.
“Ouch.” I hiss, scolding my lip.
“My-my-my Elizabeth. You are impatient aren’t you?”
Oh, you have no idea of my impatience Mr Knight. So stop teasing me for crying out loud.
He takes his cool thumb and strokes it across my lip. I close my eyes for a moment as he takes the pain away. He smirks then sits back, as though touching me in such a sexual way was a normal thing to do. But it wasn’t. I now have the need to throw myself at him. Hell, my self-control is fading fast.
“Are you feeling okay Elizabeth?” He’s toying with me, and enjoying it.
“Hmm yes... I’m fine.” I notice he hasn’t made himself a drink. “Do you not like coffee?” That was a suitable question to dampen my lusty instincts.
Our knees nearly touch as he adjusts position in his seat, and I flinch involuntarily. Why is it so impossible to hold a conversation with him? I’m right back to square one here. Eyes fleeting in all directions, trying not to quiver and drool. My temperature is soaring dangerously high, and there’s this hellish desire that needs to be put into action, but I haven’t got the nerve to do it.
“Not really,” he says. “I require something with a bit more substance,” he adds, his face completely unreadable.
What does he mean: normal substance, or naughty substance? Hmm, he’s giving me nothing to go off.
“Soup?”
He sniggers. “I like soup, if it contains the right ingredients.” He gazes curiously for a time with his head resting against his hand.
Okay Liz. It’s time to find out where your phone and handbag are now. Then you can leave and get back to reality. This can never work if you can’t function around him.
“I’ll have Sara fetch your bag in a moment,” he says as though he can read my mind. “First, I would like you to tell me why you behaved that way last night?”
I shut my eyes, shamefaced. I don’t want to think about it. Some things I remember, and some things I don’t. I’m going through the morning after the night before humiliation, and want to forget the whole thing.
“Do you not remember Elizabeth?” He better not be enjoying this. “Asking me to kiss you?” I burn a bright red, covering my face with my hands. “It’s fine. It’s to be expected. I serve alcohol, and alcohol and pressure don’t mix well.”
It’s not fine at all. Of all the people in this world, I didn’t want Mr Knight to see me paralytic. Nathan, fair enough. He’s got me home in the past, and I’ve done the same for him. But the gorgeous smoking-hot bachelor of the city, does not need to be dealing with comatose hormonal messes, such as myself.
“So, why did you bring me back here again?” I ask, nipping my trembling bottom lip.
“Well, your friend and my employee disappeared, and I didn’t know your address.” He shrugs casually. “What kind of friend is this Nathan anyway?” he asks with a crumpled brow.
Oh no. I really don’t know how to phrase it. He’s just a friend. He’s a friend who I used to sleep with. He’s a friend I lost my virginity to, so we’re kind of bound forever. Liz, don’t answer.
“Do you have a past together?” he asks in a demanding tone.
He’s extremely pushy, but his commanding side is kind of sexy. Still I don’t want to go into the details.
“Well?” he presses me.
“Well, it’s kind of none of your business. But yes.” I sigh out, feeling like I have to answer his every question. “I have a past with Nathan.” I hang my head a little lower. “We’re just friends now though.”
One of his golden eyes widens to study me. “Fuck buddies. The most destructive kind of relationship there is.”
Well, that was a bit over the top, and damn right rude.
“Look, I have to call Cate. She’s probably called me in as a missing person by now.” I peer around the penthouse. “And I have work tonight.”
He curves over, our knees clash and invisible sparks fly. “I have taken care of everything,” he says, so close his breath tingles my cheek.
“What do you mean?” My voice fractures.
“I’ve let your friends know you’re safe, and will be returning home shortly,” he explains like it’s perfectly okay to do that. “I’ve also had a chat with your boss, Harry. Nice guy.” What the hell. He’s been in my bag and through my phone. “I’ve told him you are stressed, and he’s given you some time off.”
“I’m sorry!” I squeal in astonishment.
He leans back in displeasure with a hard expression because I’m not being thankful. I see his athletic chest expand. My eyes are addicted to him, but shit, I should be furious. In fact, I should be alarmed right now.
“I’m sorry if I have taken things too far.” He curves over again. “I thought it was better to let them know where you were.”
He’s right I suppose. I’m just not sure where he’s going with this. I offer a faint smile. He’s managed to make me feel guilty. He’s a dab hand at this reverse psychology malarkey.
“It’s okay,” I mumble. “As long as they know I’m safe. Nathan?”
He whirls his pupils around. “Yes, yes.” He huffs and puffs. “Sara explained everything, and he was ever so concerned for you.”
“Is that sarcasm?” I grin with a tilt of my head.
“No, I’m being serious,” he replies bluntly. “He was actually very concerned.”
“Oh.”
I fiddle with my hands on my lap, and out of the blue he cups them with his. I peer down at them feeling and fondling my skin, each finger taking a turn to run up to my wrist. He’s cool, like his circulation doesn’t function correctly. I should be thinking right now, is he ill or something? But the truth is, his skin on mine is making me seethe to the point of madness. I wriggle my butt on the leather, finding it difficult to keep my hips still.
“Elizabeth.”
Why does he call me that?
“Liz, please. You make me sound like I belong in a nursing home.”
“Elizabeth,” he says, adamant. “I need to discuss something with you. A matter that concerns us.” Jeez, his eyes are so unforgiving. “Do you have a faint heart?”
My eyelids seal and open slowly. He’s being so mysterious. Yes, my heart’s faint right now... for him. Why won’t he just kiss me?
“Do you have feelings for me?” he asks, completely at ease. “Because I have for you, and I need to know if it’s mutual. You see, I think you’re one of a kind. Beautiful.”
A sudden snort of laughter erupts from my nose and mouth. Right now I can think of many words to describe myself, and beautiful is not one of them.
“This is funny to you?” he asks me, his eyes wide and serious.
I quickly quieten, snapping my mouth shut. “No, it’s not,” I utter.
Whoa. Mr Rich has just told me he likes me. I look like crap, have the hangover from hell, and he can, and probably has laid every girl in the city. I’m stunned. I’m so amazed I’m totally lost for words.
“Elizabeth?” he wakes me from my stupor. “I have a very important role to play in this city. There’s a hell of a lot of people that depend on me, and there is legality that must be complied with. Even in my person
al life.”
“Okay.” I pucker my brow.
“I will protect you, and use all the resources I have, doing so.”
“Protect me from what?” I choke up and swallow down the confusion.
He moves his hands away from mine, almost deflated I’m quizzical about this. “You need to answer my question first,” he says, firmly. “I need to be able to trust you.”
He waits as I become engulfed by uncertainty. He’s just this second told me he feels things for me, and now wants me to do the same. It’s not easy to do; to tell someone you hardly know that you like them. Lust for them. My jaw falls open and kind of hangs there of its own accord.
“Elizabeth,” he bites. “It’s not hard to say. A yes or no will do.”
“Yes,” I say quietly, snapping my lips together.
Satisfied, he breathes out with a smile. “Wasn’t so hard was it?” I nod very slowly. “Right that’s settled then.” He moves away. Why the hell isn’t he kissing me already? “Sara,” he calls out.
Sara trots in. “Yes.” She hands me my boots.
“Call maintenance and have the car warmed up. I’m going to be taking Miss Lovell home. Oh, and would you please fetch Miss Lovell’s handbag.” Sara nods her head and does exactly what she’s told.
Did that just happen? Instead of ravaging me in bed he wants to take me home. I scowl the scowl of all scowls at him.
“Elizabeth, all will become clear. I shall meet you in the car downstairs. Sara will take you.”
He gets up and disappears into his office as I pull my boots up over my calves, frowning so hard my head hurts.
Not one single kiss. Is he some religious nut who wants to marry me first? I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for that.
Sara waits by the door. “Miss Lovell, would you follow me please. Mr Knight is waiting for you.”
I blow out as I stand, screwing my jacket up into my arms.
I glance in the mirror inside a stainless-steel elevator. Sara watches each green light go out as we descend in silence. I don’t think she likes women very much. I wonder if I were to bring Nathan up would she thaw. I decide against it. She scares me slightly. Reminds me of a psychopathic bunny boiler.
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