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

by Vanessa Fewings

  I’d worked tirelessly right alongside everyone else on my father’s staff. I knew the privilege of this position—excitement should be the resounding emotion rushing through my veins. Yet all I could think of was her.

  Another sip of Macallan did nothing to soothe my emotions.

  Oh, hell no.

  Helen King was making a beeline for the bar.

  I spun around and gestured to the barman for a glass of water. I wasn’t in the mood to talk with the bitch. She’d already ruined my year. Though when the hairs on the back of my neck prickled, I knew she was behind me.

  “Damien,” Helen said, determined to grab my attention.

  With my back to her, I tried to erase the grimace on my face. It took a few seconds to school my features into a mask of friendliness.

  I pivoted to face her. “Hello, Helen.”

  “How are you?”

  “Fucking fabulous.” I tried to smile but it crashed and burned on landing. “You?”

  Her fingers seemed to be gripping her glass a little too tightly. “I’m totally fine.”

  That statement made me wonder what other devastation she was about to unleash. Or maybe she was just here to flaunt her betrayal.

  She smiled weakly. “Damien, I want to apologize for slowing down the construction on your building.”

  Wait…she’s admitting it?

  “You can be reassured it will resume first thing tomorrow.”

  I studied her face. “But I suppose it will have your name on it?”

  “No, it will have yours.”

  “My father managed to persuade you, then?”

  “We haven’t spoken.”

  That was confusing. “What were you going to build there?”

  “Doesn’t matter now. Damien, I’m asking for your forgiveness.”

  What the fuck.

  I’d stepped inside the Twilight Zone. I was speaking with the most ruthless woman in Washington. She’d slashed budgets that could have saved lives, cut salaries, wiped out pensions, and had always proudly taken the sickeningly large bonuses offered after the fallout. Body snatchers had grabbed up Helen King’s soul. This couldn’t be her.

  “Do you have a twin?” I asked, sarcasm dripping from my tone.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t know what to say, Helen.”

  “I’m glad it all worked out in the end,” she said.

  Perhaps my father’s people had worked their magic behind the scenes, keeping my father out of it to protect him. Though that didn’t quite add up. I’d not broken things off with Pandora yet, and that was the deal, after all.

  Her breath stuttered when she saw someone across the room. Following her gaze, I tried to see who’d rattled her. The evening was getting stranger by the second—Helen was staring at Pandora.

  My lover approached us, looking dazzling in strappy heels and the shortest dress I’d ever seen her wear, showing off her beautiful bare legs. She was oozing sensuality, her golden locks curling over her shoulders.

  She clutched a silver purse, and upon her elegant throat rested her silver key pendant.

  At first I thought my inebriated state may have produced a mirage—was I really seeing this vision of loveliness? I was like a man in the desert who was desperate for sustenance. All I wanted was to taste her lips and hold her in my arms.

  Wait.

  She was meant to be back in the apartment where I’d hidden her away.

  Pandora walked toward us with an easy grace, drawing the attention of everyone in the vicinity. She always looked striking but tonight there was something different in the way she carried herself. It was more than confidence…self-assurance, that’s what she exuded tonight. I’d seen a glimpse of it back at the apartment but for some reason beneath these glittering lights it was exaggerated.

  Pandora stopped a few feet away from us.

  “Hello, Helen,” she said with a nod.

  “Ms. Bardot,” said Helen respectfully.

  “You two know each other?” My eyes darted from one to the other.

  “We’ve only just met, actually.” Pandora gave her a smug little smile. “We had a lovely chat a few minutes ago, didn’t we, Helen?”

  Helen snapped her attention back to me. “It was lovely to see you again, Damien. I wish you all the best with your project.” She glanced at Pandora. “It was…nice meeting you, Ms. Bardot.”

  I blinked in disbelief at the impossible statistical occurrence of Helen King looking shaken. She walked away from us as though her confidence had been obliterated. The woman who had taken down kings had been intimidated, and only a source of ultimate power could have had such an effect. The possibility of my father becoming President had unnerved her, clearly.

  “That was strange.” I watched Helen disappear from view and then focused my attention on Pandora. “The project’s back on.”

  “Oh, that is good news.” She flashed me a brilliant smile. “I had a good feeling about it.”

  My heart surged with the knowledge that the Fairfield Project was happening. All those families would be given a chance to live a better life. I felt a rush of warmth and it wasn’t from the whisky.

  My smile widened. “You couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”

  She batted her eyelashes at me and snagged a glass of orange juice off a passing tray.

  “I think that might have alcohol in it,” I warned.

  She pressed the rim of the glass to her bottom lip. “Oh.”

  “I thought we agreed that I’d see you later?”

  “You made a decision. I vetoed it.”

  My lips quirked. “We’re not supposed to be seen together.”

  “We’re just having a friendly chat. People can make of it what they will. As long as there’s no physical contact.”

  “Right…if we stand too close it would contradict the party line.”

  “How close is too close, I wonder?”

  “If I was to step forward—” I closed the gap between us. “And, for example, put my arm around your waist…like this.” I pulled her against my chest.

  “That’s forbidden,” she said softly, her lips hovering near mine.

  “Exactly.” My grin widened. “It might even look as though I’m about to kiss you.”

  “We’d be breaking the rules.”

  “I hate rules.”

  “But they’re so fun to break,” she said huskily.

  “Come with me.” With my arm firmly around Pandora’s waist I led her through the crowd, aware we were being watched as we left the ballroom.

  We made it to the elevator. “Want to tell me what happened between you and Helen?”

  “Not right now, no.” She leaned against me.

  “I insist, Ms. Bardot.”

  “I might have shared how important Fairfield is to you.”

  “I think my dad got to her.”

  “Ahh.”

  “We have a suite here. It’s my dad’s. They’re fully booked so we can’t get our own room.”

  “Hope it’s empty.”

  “You’re not suggesting?” I stared down at her.

  “Goodness, no. That would be totally against the rules.”

  We ascended with lightning speed.

  Once out of the elevator, I took long strides to make it to the suite, pulling her behind me.

  I nodded respectfully at the security guard standing as a sentry at the door.

  “Anyone in there?” I asked him.

  “I don’t believe so, sir.”

  With a slide of a keycard I opened the door for us, ushering Pandora inside.

  I let go of her hand. “Let me check to make sure we’re really alone.”

  The luxury suite had three bedrooms—all of them empty. This was a place my father or his staff could visit should they need privacy. Most of the time it went unused—it was merely a courtesy added on by hotel management.

  After scouring the place, I came back into the sitting room.

  Pandora stood there
dressed only in her bra and panties, having removed her short dress. She still wore high-top stockings and had not slipped out of her strappy heels. I admired the sight of this erotic goddess waiting to be devoured, an exquisite beauty teasing me with her sensual decadence.

  Approaching her, I tried to fathom how I was meant to live without this woman. It would be like expecting me to live without breathing—because that’s how it felt when I wasn’t with her.

  My hand reached around her neck and I dragged her in fast, our lips close but not quite touching in a fierce showdown, as though seeing who would break first.

  Me. I leaned in, trailing kisses along her neck slowly, my body thrumming with need as I breathed in her soft perfume.

  She looked up at me, her eyes wide and pleading.

  My hand slid up her thigh and I snagged her thong, easing her panties down so she could step out of them.

  I shoved them into my pants pocket.

  She looked around as though guessing where I might fuck her.

  I gave her a devilish grin, unzipping my pants and pulling out my cock, and then reaching for her again. My fingers trailed along her sex to make sure she was ready.

  And, oh, God, she’s so wet for me.

  I lifted her easily and heard her inhale sharply in surprise, instinctively wrapping her legs around my waist.

  “Here?” she asked warily.

  “Right here. Right now.” I guided the tip of my cock between her swollen folds.

  Pandora opened for me like a budding flower, gifting my cock entry into her slick warmth. I thrust deep inside her tight channel.

  Pandora squirmed around me as her arousal spiked and her breaths came short and sharp. She buried her face in the crook of my neck as she moaned, her pussy milking me.

  Gently rocking her to obtain deeper thrusts, I fucked her where I stood and felt a shuddering rush at the thought of being caught by anyone walking into the room. She was petite in my arms, my devastatingly beautiful lover.

  The woman I was forbidden to see…

  Didn’t they know they’d made her more desirable? Made the taste of her even sweeter so that fucking her felt like a victory? Making her mine and letting the world know it felt like a strike against our enemies.

  Having her tremble against me as she came hard felt like my birthright. She’d been bred and molded to be perfect.

  She’d been created for me and that was our curse to bear.

  And that was why she had to be mine.

  Pandora felt like my true calling—this woman was my compass and without her I was lost.

  We climaxed together, giving ourselves completely and leaving nothing unsaid.

  Being careful not to wake Damien, I sat up and tried to orient myself to our latest surroundings. We’d ended up in one of the hotel’s suites and had fallen asleep in each other’s arms.

  I felt a headache forming as I recalled the happenings of the previous evening. That’s right…last night I’d broken into a news mogul’s home—all in a day’s work for a debutante who’d been wound too tight all her life.

  After Phoebe and I had snuck out of Galante’s mansion, hugged and parted, I’d driven straight back to the apartment to change. Then I’d turned up here at the Fairmont in Georgetown, dressed to the nines in the new dress I’d bought yesterday.

  What the fuck had I done?

  With my grogginess lifting, I replayed how I’d risked everything to carry out my scheme. But doing nothing under the circumstances would have been equally as dangerous. We would soon know if we’d fucked up. If I had fucked up. No one else deserved to take responsibility for my actions. This entire escapade had been my idea.

  I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to relieve the throbbing ache. All this uncertainty was making me lightheaded.

  Would this be the day I lost Damien?

  Don’t be silly…you’ve gotten away with it.

  I felt a tightness around my heart where there should be happiness, butterflies tickling my belly.

  I pulled my panties out of Damien’s jacket pocket and put them on, smiling as I remembered last night and what we’d done to each other in this suite. We’d fucked in every single room. I slid into my Versace mini dress and glanced at his sleeping form. He lay on his chest with his arms stretched languidly above his head.

  I found it hard to believe that I’d been able to get so close to this mysterious bachelor. He had already been cautious when it came to love. It was hard to think I might end up hurting him if my scheme backfired.

  I glanced at my watch…1:00 A.M.

  We’d slept into the wee hours.

  Padding toward the sitting room, I searched out something to quench my thirst and found a bottle of water. I unscrewed the cap and took a big swig, then noticed my reflection in the mirror on the far wall.

  Jesus!

  I almost jumped out of my skin.

  Carter stood behind me, staring daggers my way.

  This was his father’s suite, meant to be used during functions, so his being here wasn’t really a surprise. It was the way he looked at me with such arrogance and distain that sent shivers of uncertainty down my spine.

  “You scared me,” I whispered.

  “Where’s Damien?”

  Raising a finger to my lips, I gestured for him to be quiet because Damien was still asleep—then immediately regretted it. Damien would shoo this asshole away, if necessary.

  Carter rolled his eyes. It was obvious that we’d used this suite to have sex.

  “Your father wants to talk with you.”

  I frowned at him. “Dad’s here?”

  “Downstairs.”

  “I have to check my hair.” I hurried over to the round wall mirror and tried to brush out my disheveled locks with my fingers.

  The advantage of sleeping in makeup: I actually looked well-rested with just a smudge of mascara beneath my eyes. I wiped it away to look decent again as Carter stepped forward and reached into his jacket pocket, offering me his comb.

  “Thank you.” I took it, wary of him.

  I dragged the prongs through my golden locks and handed the comb back to him.

  “My purse is in the bedroom,” I explained, slipping on my high heels.

  “You’re not going far.” He gestured toward the door.

  When we stepped out into the hallway, I offered a polite smile to the bodyguard who’d remained outside all this time, remembering how kind Damien had been to the security detail on Sanibel Island.

  We started down the hall and I had sudden misgivings. Turning, I tried to retrace my steps, wanting to go back to let Damien know where I’d be.

  Carter grabbed my hand and dragged me along with him. I’d been too sleepy to think straight. I should have at least brought my phone.

  When we reached the elevator I asked, “Is this about my future with Damien?”

  Carter punched the button. “Maybe.”

  “I should wait for him, then?”

  “He’s got enough to think about right now. Dad is relying on him.”

  I stepped into the elevator and turned to face him. “Of course.”

  I hoped my dad was doing okay. No doubt he’d try to persuade me to leave with him. That wasn’t going to happen. No way was I leaving this hotel with my parents. It would hurt to tell them this, but I wanted to stay in America. I wanted to be able to at least see Damien, even if only occasionally. I couldn’t bear the thought of not having him in my life. All this didn’t mean I wouldn’t support my dad, but that news story might not happen now. Not if I had my way.

  The elevator doors slid closed.

  Carter stood with his hands in his pockets. He stared at the carpet, seemingly distracted.

  An ice-cold chill slithered up my spine.

  I had learned the hard way that he could be crueler than the devil. We’d never gotten on. He’d always seen me as a spoilt princess and I’d always seen him as the irreverent youngest son who was full of bravado, completely devoid of compassion. He’
d never held back his feelings towards me or my family. Seeing his courteous behavior now set off my internal alarm bells.

  The elevator landed on the basement level and the doors slid open.

  Two familiar bodyguards stood there looking in at us.

  One of them swooped into the elevator, lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder.

  My scream echoed around us.

  The burly stranger carried me out and down a hallway, the other guard walking beside us.

  I struggled to get free. “Put me down.”

  “You’ve been a bad girl, Pandora,” said Carter. “My dad wants a word.”

  Upside down and feeling nauseous, I was hauled to the end of the corridor and then man-handled through the kitchen—they were sneaking me out.

  Dread saturated my flesh and I was afraid I might faint. “Where’s my dad?”

  Carter’s hand crashed down on my butt. “I have no fucking idea.”

  I held my trembling hands in my lap, trying to remember that I wasn’t the victim here—I’d made a plan and seen it through and I was prepared to suffer the consequences. Though for some reason regret lingered like a terrible dream.

  Because everything was going wrong.

  I’d been hauled out of the Fairmont Hotel and into the back of a town car and driven all the way here to Senator Godman’s home. They had escorted me against my will into his office and I’d been shoved into the seat before his desk.

  Then I’d been told to wait and they had left me alone.

  My chest constricted at the thought that Damien would wake up and find me gone, knowing he would be hurt like hell. What would they tell him? How would he react?

  I wanted more than anything to be back in bed beside him. 2:00 A.M. was too early in the morning to think straight.

  An hour went by—I sat there fearing the moment when Senator Gregor Godman would walk in demanding answers. This man was set to rule the free world.

  I had mixed emotions when it came to my future father-in-law. I admired his determination to take on important issues. But his forceful, controlling nature had always intimidated me. Nevertheless, I respected him.