Pandora's Pleasure: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

by Vanessa Fewings

“A straight shooter, I like that.” She nibbled on her lower lip and it looked seductive. “What happened between the two of you that’s caused you to run to my office like a scared little schoolgirl?”

  “I’m twenty.”

  “You look younger.”

  I lowered my gaze. “I’m hoping for some pointers.”

  “You make Damien sound like a conundrum.”

  “That’s because he is.”

  She smiled. “I signed a non-disclosure agreement when we began dating. Didn’t you?”

  “No.”

  Her expression told me she hadn’t expected that answer. “Well, that’ll come about soon enough. Unless…”

  “Unless?”

  “The rumors are true?”

  “What rumors?”

  “I still have friends in Washington.”

  “We’re still together if that’s what you mean.” I hoped the lie sounded convincing.

  She glanced at her wristwatch, hinting that I was eating away her time.

  “He still loves you, Madeline.”

  An eyebrow rose as she mulled that over, and then I saw the expression in her eyes soften with affection. It was the kind of reaction seen in those still in love.

  “Are you still in contact?” I sensed they were.

  “By phone, mostly.”

  I decided to ask the question I wasn’t certain I wanted an answer to. “Why aren’t you still together?”

  “People grow apart.”

  “But…you’re everything he wants in a woman.”

  She pushed up from the chair. “I’m flattered you think that.”

  I’d offended her, and she was kicking me out.

  My shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’m trying to understand him. Trying to make this work.”

  “We don’t need a non-disclosure agreement. You and me, we are quite capable of respecting each other’s privacy.”

  I gave a subtle nod of agreement.

  “You want me to help fix your relationship with Damien, but your failure was inevitable. If that makes you feel any better.”

  I set the glass of Coke on her desk and stood, my chair squealing on the hardwood floor as I pushed up. “I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

  “It’s been a delight.”

  I frowned. “You’re making fun of me.”

  “You’re a toy. Power’s plaything. Manufactured in a private school abroad and forged for public life.”

  I wanted to walk away, hating the fact she had the upper hand by knowing all about my background. I wasn’t in a position to defend myself.

  She stared at me thoughtfully. “Or, Ms. Bardot, you could be more…”

  My future was tenuous, but she wouldn’t know that.

  Soon, like the rest of the world, she would know about my father’s scandal—unless I found a way to reach Damien and convince him to make it go away.

  Damien blocking my texts felt like the ultimate ghosting. A week had gone by and I’d not heard a word from him, which was why I’d believed visiting Rhodes for advice had been a good idea.

  Now, not so much.

  Heading for the door, I cursed myself for going to all this trouble. Rhodes didn’t care about me. I’d been a brief amusement between lectures.

  She leaned forward over the desk, her cleavage showing thanks to her low-cut red blouse. “Are you good with secrets?”

  I turned around. “Yes.”

  “How far are you willing to go?”

  “In what respect?”

  “Damien has…unusual desires. Surely you’ve noticed by now?”

  I assumed Madeline was talking about the fact he had a thing for bondage.

  She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a velvet box, placing it on top of the desk with reverence. “You must never tell him where you got it. Promise?”

  The box was too big for an engagement ring and too small for a bracelet or a choker. My imagination went into overdrive.

  I walked over to her desk and picked up the box, holding it gingerly in my palm.

  “What is it?”

  “A gift. Or a curse, depending on how you look at it. Because it’s not meant for girls like you.”

  I wondered if I should be insulted.

  “Or…perhaps you’re different.” She smiled.

  I suddenly had a memory of what the silken ties had felt like—the sensations of pleasure and pain, of writhing to escape and yet never wanting to.

  “Pandora, the woman who wears this will get anything she wants.”

  I smirked. “Are these nuclear codes?”

  She glanced at the box in my hand. “What’s inside there is a whole lot more explosive.”

  “Did he give this to you?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “How come you have it?”

  “You’re wrong. I’m not his type. But you are.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that assertion, and I still wasn’t sure what was in the box.

  She looked at me intently. “Has he ever mentioned Vanguard?”

  “No.” I gave a casual shrug to hide my embarrassment.

  She gestured towards the box. “That grants permission. Wear that, and—”

  “Permission to do what?” The question carried with it the naivety I was trying to hide.

  “For him to do anything to you he wants to do.”

  My heart rate took off at a thousand beats a second. Finally, I remembered to breathe.

  Give it back.

  Forget you ever came here.

  Her flowery perfume hung heavy around me, stirring memories of that loft…of that secret hour in an oceanside home far from anywhere—my breasts swelling, nipples beading, my entire body thrumming with desire.

  Damien’s fingertip causing my clit to throb until the pleasure was blinding.

  “Pandora?” Madeline pulled me from my daydreaming.

  I set the box down on the desk and slid it back toward her. “I appreciate your time, Dr. Rhodes. Really, I do.”

  I hated Damien…hated him for making me miss him like this—my body needy for his touch.

  I wasn’t here for me, though.

  “I don’t want it.” I gestured to the box.

  “Are you sure?” Her sensual curves were a stark reminder that Damien had enjoyed numerous lovers before me—all of them probably just like her. How could I ever compete against women this sophisticated?

  You’re his type.

  She’d told me that, at least. Trying to read the truth in her eyes, I wondered if there was any honesty in her words.

  “I don’t think he’s really capable of true love,” I mused. “I know he felt a great deal for you. What I mean is, he’s—”

  “A complicated man.”

  I nodded and then said, “I was never here.”

  She gave me a smile. “Our conversation will stay between us.”

  It was best I never knew what lay inside that box.

  Seeing me stare at it, she nudged the box closer to me, offering it one final time.

  “Why hasn’t he come over?” Dad muttered beneath his breath.

  Mom squirmed uncomfortably in her chair.

  “Damien’s busy talking with his father’s supporters,” I said, trying to defend him.

  I turned in my seat so I didn’t have to watch Damien work the room—while ignoring me.

  I feigned indifference, as though his behavior was perfectly acceptable, and focused on the central table display of red roses erupting out of a glass vase, their thorns calling my name.

  The St. Regis Hotel’s ballroom was the location for this elaborate Saturday night fundraiser. My mom had insisted I dress appropriately for the conservative types and had picked out a Lela Rose floral-embroidered gingham dress for me to wear this evening.

  I looked like a pretty doll.

  I’d become accustomed to these networking events, mastering the art of the friendly smile to help snag potential supporters for our cause when necessary.

  So here I
was, thrust into the public eye this evening and ready to be paraded in front of the guests. My orders were to look pretty and charm the hell out of everyone.

  Tonight, I secretly represented my father’s last hope of being chosen to serve alongside the President—only there was a hitch. Damien hadn’t talked to me all night. I refused to let my parents know he’d not called me in over a week. Or that my phone was no longer able to get through to his asshole device either.

  A dry mouth made me want to reach for my mother’s champagne flute, but drinking in public before I was twenty-one was taboo. “I’ll go over and speak to Damien soon.”

  Dad gestured for the waiter to top up his champagne glass. “You’re engaged. You have a ring.”

  As though sensing we were talking about him, Damien looked over at our table…then looked away.

  Considering our intimacy last Friday night, seeing him throw daggers our way left me chagrined. When he turned his back to us, the rejection hurt my heart.

  But even so, I still couldn’t drag my eyes away from Damien’s suaveness. His tailored suit had been cut to perfection and the black tie made him look edgy. His raven hair had been tamed for tonight’s soirée. He stood there casually with his hands tucked into his pockets, yet he still seemed guarded—even stern and unapproachable.

  Pivoting back to focus on the table centerpiece again, this time I reached out to touch the stem of a rose and purposefully pressed my finger to a thorn.

  “Careful!” My mother slapped my hand away. “Go talk to him.”

  “I plan to.” I clicked open my Bottega Veneta clutch purse and reached in for a tissue. Inside lay that small, black box.

  I’d not opened it yet.

  Maybe this had been a gift Damien had given to Madeline. Maybe giving it back through me was a message from Rhodes to him, which left me well and truly caught in the middle of her revenge fuck you tour.

  Because Damien had chosen me over her.

  Maybe whatever was inside this box was her attempt to sabotage my relationship.

  She needn’t have bothered.

  Yesterday in her office at Georgetown, Madeline Rhodes had placed such importance on the box’s contents, sparking a curiosity inside me that I hadn’t been able to resist. But now…I wouldn’t be drawn in by her evil scheming.

  Snapping the purse closed, I slid the strap over my shoulder and psyched myself up to approach Damien.

  Rising from my chair, I gave the guests at our table a polite smile. “Excuse me.” I clutched my skirt and raised the hem a little, whooshing elegantly toward him across the ballroom.

  Damien was trapped between two senators, Jacob Rommel and Scott Bruno, both good men who fought for causes that mattered.

  Mattered to me, anyway.

  They were already admirers of Damien’s father. I’m sure he did not see the benefit of “wasting precious time” when he could be working the room trying to convert others to Senator Godman’s crusade—not with only three weeks left until election night.

  Damien gave me a subtle shake of his head in a gesture meaning not now.

  No, he wasn’t going to continue ghosting me in front of all these people. Some of the guests might be watching, and they’d be given clear evidence that those rumors of our estrangement were true.

  “Hi, Damien.” I forced a smile and turned it up a notch for the senators who flanked him on either side. “Will you both please excuse us while I talk to my fiancé?”

  “We’re in the middle of something.” Damien followed that up with a glare.

  Senator Rommel gave me a reassuring nod. “Spend time together. It’s what makes these things bearable.”

  As the two gentlemen walked away, I was rewarded with another unkind stare from the man meant to be my boyfriend. Damien broke his focus away just long enough to read the room, suddenly realizing there were eyes on us.

  He leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “Hello, sweetheart.”

  “Got a second?”

  His dashing smile was disarming. “For you, anytime.”

  “You blocked my number?” I whispered.

  “Not here.” His tone was harsh.

  Walking past him, I made a beeline for one of the many doors that led off the ballroom and found myself in an empty banquet hall. I stood there with my arms folded as I waited patiently for Damien to appear.

  Eventually he did, sliding through the door as though trying to be covert. “What do you want?”

  “Why are you ignoring me?”

  “Maybe this isn’t about you.”

  “I’m your fiancée.”

  “Can I call you later?”

  I narrowed my gaze on him.

  He stared back. “You’re doubting my word?”

  “Yes.” I sounded extra snobbish for some reason and I couldn’t put the brakes on.

  There was just so much riding on Damien being reasonable.

  He looked riled. “Quite honestly, Pandora, you’re a bad look on me right now.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “That issue with your father years ago just caught up with him. It could ricochet off us.”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “You want to apologize on his behalf?”

  “What? No. I want to make it go away.”

  “You know what he did, right?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Surprise flashed over his face. “Look, I’ve been told not to talk with you right now.” He paused, looking away. “Trust me, this isn’t easy on me, either.”

  My mouth went dry with that revelation. “Are we still together?”

  He hesitated to answer.

  I raised my hand to remind him of the sparkling engagement ring he had recently given me.

  He gave a slight shrug. “Keep it.”

  A sob caught in my throat. “You used me. You paraded me in public like you’d captured a prize possession. And now I’m not needed anymore.”

  “Glad you know your worth.”

  “Actually, I do.” Because there’s so much about me you don’t know.

  “Look, it wouldn’t matter if I’m falling for you. Or if I already have. I don’t get to choose.”

  “Has your father forbidden you to see me?”

  “Our families have been rivals for years. You should have seen this coming.”

  “We’re a new generation, Damien. The grandchildren of rivals. What happened between our families was decades ago.”

  “Hate runs deep between our dynasties, or don’t you know your history?”

  “Until your family needed mine.”

  “You should be flattered. You made us look good.”

  “You did those things to me.” I said, my voice trembling. “In your oceanfront home.”

  “You resent me. Admit it. You always have.”

  My throat tightened with uncertainty. Once.

  He looked startled when I failed to deny it, but I knew that any expression of affection for him now could scare him away for good.

  Damien raised his hands in frustration. “Your honesty is to be admired.”

  Tension made the air hard to breathe. “I need a moment.”

  “Right now, my main focus is getting Pandora Aria Bardot deleted from my Wikipedia page.”

  “Do you have any idea how you sound?”

  He snapped his hand to his chest. “This is what you do to me. Keeping my composure around you is a fucking fulltime job.”

  “What did I do wrong?”

  “Tell me one thing you’ve done right.”

  “I’ve done everything that was asked of me. Even agreeing to marry…”

  He sighed. “Your brand of romance is addictive. If you’re into self-flagellation.”

  I tried to read what was really going on, but Damien was so closed off it was impossible to get through to him. “I need you to kill the story on my father.”

  He looked stunned. “That’s why you’re here?”

  “Well, I wanted to see y
ou regardless.”

  I saw the doubt in his eyes. “Your father’s career in politics is over.”

  “There must be something you or your dad can do?”

  He nudged me back against the wall, placing his hands on either side of my head to cage me in. “It’s hopeless. You and your family can sink back into whatever oil spill you all crawled out of.”

  “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” God, I was becoming brave.

  “You won’t let me forget.”

  “Do you want me to announce our breakup?” I said bitterly.

  “Not until after the election.” His mouth hovered near mine.

  He was going to damn well kiss me—that’s what was happening here. His gaze dropped to my lips, which gave me hope. There was still something between us. Maybe I could find a way to get through to him.

  “I’m asking for your help,” I said softly. “My father’s a good man.”

  His lips dared to brush mine, causing a shudder to run through me.

  “You’re just doing his bidding.” He straightened, moving away from me abruptly as though coming to his senses.

  “I admit, Daddy may have asked me to speak with you—”

  “Exactly, Pandora. This isn’t about you and me. It’s about politics. It’s about what I can do for you.”

  “Please don’t say that.”

  “Want the truth?” He stepped closer, leaning over me once again. “You and I have completed our mission.”

  This time, he really is going to kiss me. Kiss me for the first time…

  But he only turned away and said, “Do what you do best.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Look pretty.”

  “There’s more to me than just looks.”

  “Not one thing I’ve seen or heard from you suggests you care about anyone but yourself.”

  “I’ve wanted to do so many things, but my parents—”

  “What have you ever done for someone else?”

  “I’m here for my family, aren’t I? Talking with the most monstrous man in the room.”

  The smile he gave me didn’t reach his eyes. His expression told me he felt he’d made his point.

  Tears sprang to my eyes. “I did everything you asked of me.”

  “You’re merely a pawn in the game. Your father’s moves have knocked you off the board.” He straightened his jacket. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a campaign to win for my father.”