His soft chuckle close to my ears made me tremble. It was the first time I’d heard him sound so relaxed. Slipping his hands under my knees and neck, he carried me out of the bathroom towards the bedroom. He settled me on the bed and stood over me. “We didn’t use a condo—”
“It’s okay, I’ll take care of it in the morning,” I said quickly.
He nodded. “We should have showered.”
He was right, we were a sticky delicious mess of sex, and sweat, but there was no other state that I would have preferred in the whole world. “We’re not done,” I said to him, exhausted from that explosive climax, but still holding onto my dreams of giving back to him just as he had to me. “I want to take you in my mouth,” I said, “and drive you mad.”
His laughter once again in my ear was nothing but music, the sweetest kind. “You’ve already driven me mad.”
“You’ll teach me, won’t you?” I asked.
“You don’t need teaching, Freya. You were a born seductress.”
“Really?” I whispered. With joy filling my heart, I began to lightly trace a tightly bunched, gleaming muscle in his thigh. As I watched, his cock began to stir. I looked up at his face.
He was staring down at my naked body. “You’ll be the death of me, Freya,” he groaned as he bent his head and captured my mouth in an all-encompassing kiss.
And it began all over again.
Freya
I awoke the exact same way we had fallen asleep with Brent’s hand around my waist. I looked down and the duvet was tangled around his hips.
I didn’t want to move, but it hurt a little as he had been there I was certain all night, I looked up at his full head of hair and moved my hand to touch it.
I couldn’t believe that I’d been this intimate with someone. My chest was bared with his impossibly warm, strong body glued to mine, but it was incredible how comfortable I felt. I looked out of the massive sliding windows at the view of the lustrous back garden beyond. It was snowing. Thank God, I sent my mom a text last night to tell her I wouldn’t be coming home. I knew she would automatically assume I was going to spend the night with Maddie or Ella.
He stirred then and my heart seized, as I waited for him to come awake.
He lifted his head from the pillow and looked at me.
My mouth felt dry with nervousness. Would he be the same as he was yesterday or would he be cold and arrogant in the cold light of the morning?
When he noted my presence and our position, he rose without a word to sit on the edge of the bed, his back to me.
“It’s snowing outside,” I said.
I watched his smooth, tanned back, refusing to believe that he would withdraw from me after the night we had just had together.
He turned to look at me. Despite his tousled hair and the dark shadow of stubble, the regality of the man couldn’t be dented.
“Is this how it's going to be?” I asked, trying my hardest to keep the hurt from my voice.
“There is a lot you don’t understand,” he said softly.
“Then explain it to me.”
“I can’t.”
“If you’re not ashamed to be seen with me, what is it?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Is it because of the sex club? Are you into kinky things?”
His lips quirked with amusement. “No, it’s not the sex club. I am into kinky things, but nothing that cannot be shared and enjoyed with you.”
I stared at him. “Then why do you have the sex club? What’s it for other than for selling virgins?”
“Blue Butterfly is where people go for extreme sexual pleasure.”
“What is that?” I asked curiously.
“Extreme pleasure can only be derived by special techniques, ancient secrets. I found out about them while I was living in Tibet. I met a very old monk who told me about these forgotten techniques. He said human sexuality had devolved to such an extent that we are now using sex to sell detergent and toothpaste and watching porn so full of violence it was toxic to the soul. He asked me if I would go back to England and start such a club, and he would send me the old women who knew the techniques to work in it. The techniques belonged to the people and needed to be relearned by humanity. One day I’ll take you there and let you experience them.”
I frowned. “Then why is it a club only for billionaires?”
“Because it is special and must be seen and treated as special before it can grow. Would you put your fifteen-thousand pound Louis Vuitton dress into the wash with your waitress uniform? Slowly, over a very long time the techniques will spread to the rest of the population.”
“How did you know I was working as a waitress?”
“There’s very little I don’t know about you, Freya,” he said very quietly, his eyes were suddenly shrouded. Then he stood, filling the room with his deliciously naked presence. When he spoke, I felt myself shudder ever so slightly.
“I’m running late for a meeting so I’ll get someone to drive you home. I’ll arrange a pill for you to take before you leave.” With that, he walked away and shut the door behind him.
Wow! He didn’t even trust me to get my own morning after pill!
* * *
Later that morning I was sitting in class deep in thought about the forgotten techniques taught in the Blue Butterfly when someone suddenly squatted by my side.
“Hey.”
I looked down to see the nice guy I had spilled my red wine on yesterday evening. He was smiling at me and there was a twinkle in his eyes.
“Hey,” I responded, wishing that I could be attracted to him instead of crazy about Brent.
“You disappeared last night,” he complained, good naturedly.
I smiled. “Something urgent came up.”
The class was restarting from the fifteen-minute break so he gave me a charming smile and rose to his feet. “See you around.”
I nodded in agreement, and marveled at how detached I felt from my entire class. They all felt like complete strangers to me. This entire past year since my father passed away, I had barely noticed anyone. I’d been too focused on my grief or on how to chip away at the mountain of debt his departure had left us. Now I had money, but the current headache was how to explain its existence to my mother.
Picking up my phone, I pulled up Brent’s number. I had since calmed down from the sting of his less than loving departure that morning and chalked it up to the nature of our agreement.
I wanted to send him the message, the way a lover would, but I wondered if that would be too clingy. I put the phone away and tried to concentrate on the lecture, but five seconds later I had the phone back in my hand.
Can you talk? I need to ask you something.
I pressed the send button before I could think it through, just like I had done the previous night, and waited for the rewards or disaster of my action to arrive.
A painful hour passed, then the class came to an end. My teammates came by, so we could all attend our project planning meeting.
We headed downstairs to the lobby of the building and sat around a table to begin. I kept my phone away so I could concentrate, but I didn’t have the heart to mute it. In case he answered. The moment it began to ring half-an-hour later, I jumped up and hurried over to the wall where it was charging.
The incoming number was unknown, but it wasn’t Brent. It wasn’t the one that he had used to contact me previously, anyway. I hesitated for a moment and then quickly picked it up. Perhaps it was another number of his. “Hello?” I answered, supporting the phone with both hands to keep it still. I hated how nervous I felt.
I waited for his voice, but it didn’t come, instead someone unfamiliar responded.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“Hello, Freya. It’s Liam Lucan. Can we talk?”
Freya
Three hours later, I was seated in a glamorous cafe in West London.
Liam Lucan had said there was something very important I needed to know and that it
could not wait. At first, I was reluctant to go, because I remembered Brent telling me he didn’t want to be with me because of the childish game I had played with his brother when I had danced with him to make Brent jealous, but then Liam said the magic words.
“It’s about your father, Freya.”
I was sitting by the window facing the street, so the moment he arrived, I saw him. He got out of a burnt orange Mclaren, and took his time to acknowledge the cat whistles and buzz his vehicle garnered by some teenage boys who had hurried over from the bus stand to come and admire his car.
He found me easily, and took his seat with a smile.
I could barely work up one in response. My nerves were frayed as nothing about any of this felt right, especially as Brent had warned me away from him, but I needed to hear what he had to say.
“Hello, Freya,” he greeted formally. “Thanks for meeting me.”
I nodded and waited as he placed a quick order for organic chrysanthemum tea. He was dressed more simply today, but no less opulent in a gray sweater and a charcoal thick coat. The skinny white pants that completed the look was sufficient enough to remind me of my unease of him.
“What do you want to talk to me about?” I asked, needing this meeting to come to an end as quickly as was possible.
He regarded me plainly. “To be honest, I didn’t know how to take this up with you when we first met at the banquet, but in light of what I have found out since then, I think you will definitely want to know about this.”
“What are you talking about?” I had a sick feeling in my stomach.
“I found out that you have quite an interesting physical relationship with my brother.”
My heart slammed in my chest. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t mean to offend you,” he continued smoothly, “and it’s none of my business, but I am quite certain that you wouldn’t be doing that if you knew what he has done to your family.”
I leaned back into the chair. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, but maybe I just didn’t want to hear what he had to say because I knew it would hurt me. I hardened my heart, turned my gaze towards the window, and allowed him to continue.
“I’ll keep this brief. I’m sure you’re already aware that Brent remains close to the actress, Judi Mirren. They are not lovers, so the question is … why doesn’t he break off with her the way he does with all the other women he beds?”
My ears perked up at the mention of her name and the acknowledgment that they were not lovers. I knew that no matter what he said from here onwards, no matter how bad it sounded it was going to contain some element of truth that was going to severely affect me.
“Judi’s father, Rolland Mirren, was the owner of a venture capitalist firm. When he passed away five years ago, the company was of course, passed on to his only child, Judi. She has no interest in business affairs, so to the world it has seemed thus far as though she passed on its operations to the current CEO, Bradman Murray. This is not true. In the five years since her father has passed away, the company has jumped from being worth 150 million pounds to 450 million pounds. No mere CEO, especially one who has already been there since the company’s inception could pull this off. So, I looked into it and just as I had suspected, it has a silent chairman. Her father passed the company to her, but must have handed its operations over to the only person he could trust to run it, Brent.”
His tea arrived then and he leaned back into his chair, taking his time to leisurely sip from the glass teacup.
I turned a hard gaze to him. “Why the hell would he give his company to Brent? Is that because he is in a relationship with Judi?”
“He’s not in a relationship with Judi,” he corrected with a frown. “At least not that I know of. You know this, or else I doubt you'd be sleeping with him. Based on the premise of how you both reconnected, you don’t seem to be the promiscuous kind.”
My heart stopped. I glared at him, and he raised his hands up in the air, amused. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to mention that.”
Furious, and unable to take anymore, I rose to my feet.
“Don't leave,” he said. “I’m not done.”
“I am,” I replied, and rose to pick up my backpack.
“Brent killed your father,” he stated flatly.
My legs collapsed under me and I fell back heavily into the chair.
His voice quieted down as he went on. “I’m sure you know of the investment company that was the reason behind your father’s downfall. After the software malfunctioned and they lost their investment, they painted your father as the thief who stole someone else’s work. They stripped him of everything. Judi Mirren’s company is called Gray Stallion’s Capital, and they were the ones that created and fueled the entire case. And at the helm of it all was Brent.”
Silence.
I lowered my gaze and when I saw that my hands were trembling I hid them from sight. “Is this a joke?” I somehow found my voice.
“It is not,” he answered, “and I have all the proof you need.”
I shut my eyes as my vision clouded up with tears. “Why are you telling me this?”
He was straight to the point. “Because I owe you for saving me all those years ago.”
My head snapped to him then and I didn’t care that he saw the tears in my eyes. “What?”
“Freya, the technology’s original owner, David Styles, went missing. No traces of him have been found but I have been able to retrieve the backpack he had with him that day, and inside it was his phone. All the emails sent between him and your father prove that their relationship was a genuine one, and that he had no hand in getting rid of David is more than enough to clear his name and bring the truth to light. This way, you get to clear your father’s name.”
“So you’re saying that you’re doing this to help me?”
From the corner of my eyes, I saw him lean back into the chair and fold his arms across his chest. “You didn’t let me finish. And I get to see Brent squirm like the worm he is. You don’t know, but he tried to get David to sell to him directly, but the boy was loyal to your father and refused. Whether Brent truly went the other way and dealt with him, I am not certain, and this is one of the things that I want you to find out about.”
“You want me to help you find things out?”
“Yes. Brent is no ordinary person. For anyone else, the circumstantial proof I have would have been enough to send them to prison. Not Brent. We have to have concrete proof and the ability to shake him up even a little, otherwise we would all end up wasting our time. Please don't think that you will be able to fight him on your own, especially not with that measly amount that he gave to you. It will dry up before you know it and you will be dragged into even more debt. This is not a battle that you can win on your own.”
“And besides your deep gratitude to me for saving your life, you’re willing to so graciously assist me because …?”
I watched his lips stretch into a blindingly fake smile. “Because, in addition to your own inquiries, I have some of my own that I would like you to help me find out.”
“Why? Why am I the one that has to find out stuff for you?”
“Because we have something in common. We both want to avenge the wrong done to someone we love and you seem to be the best person for the job so far. From what I have seen, it looks like he feels some guilt towards you. Which could be why he allowed your initial physical … well, shall we just call it … contact to happen, and why he paid so much.”
I held on to my temper with difficulty. Supercilious asshole. I wanted to kick him in the groin.
Undaunted he went on, “Since there is still a physical relationship between you, I would hazard a guess that he is beginning to grow somewhat … attached to you. We can exploit that weakness. By getting closer to him, perhaps he will drop his guard around you and you can find out all that we need to know.”
“And what exactly do you need?”
All semblance of amusement left his face then as
he leaned forward. “I need to find out if he has, or is making any plans to hurt either myself or my mother.”
My eyes widened at his response. I did not expect that.
“A few weeks ago, he came to my father’s birthday dinner and threatened my mother and I. My dear brother has many hateful flaws, but failing to keeping his word is not one of them. He meant every word and now I know that there is a gun pointed at me at all times. I just need to know what type of gun it is and where exactly he has it stationed, so that I can protect my family.”
“Why the hell would he want to kill you?”
“I am sure to an extent you must have overheard the argument between us a decade ago. It’s all related to that. I’m not allowed to tell you anymore so consider this your first assignment. If you’re able to weaken him enough to get him to tell you the history of our family, then I will know for certain you are someone worthy of investing in. If you can’t do that, then you are just a woman who warms his cold bed.”
I gasped at the image his words produced.
“I should be going. Good luck and keep in touch.”
He emptied his cup of tea, and I watched as he exited the restaurant.
Freya
I sat in bed alone that night, completely bewildered.
I didn’t know what to believe. Maybe I was being a sappy idiot, but I couldn’t bring myself to believe that Brent had anything to do with my father’s death. Even the idea made me shake with dread. He was everything to me and I just couldn’t imagine giving him up now.
No, I’d rather trust Brent than Liam any day, and yet Liam had been convincing. As detestable as he was, I knew there was some truth in what he was saying. The problem was which part was true and which part was the lie?
I considered calling Maddie, but I knew she would immediately talk me out of everything, especially out of ever having anything to do with the Lucan family again. I also needed to talk to my mother and get her take on Liam’s accusation, but it bothered me that it would reopen barely healed wounds, and force my relationship with Brent out in the open.
Highest Bidder Page 12
