by Jade West
We snuggled up in bed together, flesh against flesh. She slept like a delicate creature next to me, barely moving until we woke up in the morning with sunlight shining bright through the windows.
Yet again, I had no idea what time it was, but I knew it was time to be forming more of my allegiances and cementing new partnerships in stone.
Elaine was still half asleep as I got myself washed and suited up ready for the day. She sat up in bed as I fastened my tie, her hair a stunning mess like a halo.
“Shall I come?” she asked, but I shook my head.
“No, baby. Enjoy your new surroundings, and enjoy your time with Francesca. I’ll make sure they send your breakfast upstairs before she comes to get you.”
Yet again she looked surprised. Surprised and happy.
“I’m spending the day with Francesca?”
“Yes,” I told her. “You’re spending the day with Francesca and she has a whole host of plans for your time.”
Hell, I couldn’t wait to hear about them later, but I wasn’t going to share them with her. I wanted her amazement to be fresh when Francesca told her exactly what would be happening for her.
I kissed my angel before I left, having to pull myself free from her arms before she tugged me back under the covers with her.
“I’ll see you later, sweetheart,” I told her, and again, it felt so natural to be in such an easy new world with no fears hanging over our head.
“I’ll see you later, handsome,” she replied, and waved me off with a smile.
She’d sure be smiling when I did see her later, that was for sure.
Devon Quentin was already suited up and ready to roll when I joined him downstairs in the sitting room. He got to his feet, giving me a handshake that was even more firm and enthusiastic than the day before.
“Francesca will be getting Elaine’s breakfast sent up to her,” he confirmed, and I smirked at him.
“A full English, I hope.”
He smiled back. “Of course, Lucian. Most certainly a full English. Minus the black pudding, as per your request.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I’m very appreciative that she’s going to be well taken care of.”
“Don’t you worry about that. Francesca will most definitely be taking care of her. It’s an honor to have you both here. Speaking of which,” he added. “Would you like any breakfast yourself?”
But no. I wouldn’t. I shook my head with a thanks.
“I have more pressing things to concern myself with,” I told him. “We have plenty of plans to finalize.”
“Of course,” he said, and patted my back as we walked towards the hall. “I’m extremely keen for us to get started.”
The limo was already waiting outside when we stepped out through the entrance. I glanced up at the wing I knew my princess was relaxing in, relieved all over again that I’d trusted my primal calling to be so true to our nature.
Quentin and I took our seats in the back of the limo, and our negotiations started up the moment we pulled away from the drive.
I was very firm in my offerings, and he was very keen to accept them. Partnerships in everything from pharmaceutical research to cross-Atlantic insurance deals, right through to underworld arms deals. I had a sense of drive and excitement I hadn’t truly felt in my gut for several years. Life at Morelli Holdings was challenging, and interesting, but not like this. Not like forming a whole new initiative of opportunities with a whole new web of connections.
We pulled up in Canary Wharf and the limo dropped us at Quentin’s HQ. I stepped inside, shoulder to shoulder with him, proud and arrogant in my very finest of ways.
It was after a solid morning of conversations with Quentin’s recommended associates that we shook hands on some deals and some of the other business partners left the room. Then it was just Quentin and I alone together again, sitting across the table from each other with a respectful smile on our faces. He was impressed. I could see it.
It was him who leaned closer, curious.
“So, given that you have been so forthcoming in what you are offering us,” he said. “What is it that you want in return? There must be some things you are seeking that I could show you my appreciation by supplying.”
My expression was stoic as I weighed it up, but he was keen and eager, clearly very taken with the offers I’d been presenting him.
Yes, there were some things he could show his appreciation by supplying. Two of them.
I decided to lay my cards right out there on the table.
“I want a few things in particular,” I said. “Some things that may be controversial.”
“Anything,” he said, holding up his hands with a smirk. “Controversial is my middle name.”
My gut was boiling with need even as I uttered the words.
“I want Lord Eddington and Baron Rawlings,” I told him. “And I want them delivered to me personally so I can kill them myself.”
21
Elaine
I was still enjoying the comfy bed and my full stomach from breakfast when the knock came at the bedroom door. It was a different knock than the nervous little taps we’d had previously, this one was confident, with a real bounce in it. My nerves shot up into my throat as I headed over to answer it, knowing full well it must be Francesca Quentin out there on the landing.
Yes, it was. It was Francesca Quentin greeting me with a smile, and she looked every bit as radiant as she had the night before.
She was wearing a clearly designer dress down to her knees, in a turquoise green that brought out the green of her eyes. Her lips were scarlet, matching her flame hair just right.
The woman just reeked of glamor.
Such a shame that I didn’t.
I was in one of Jemma’s cheap cami tops over a faded pair of jeans. I felt a mess compared to her, but she made me feel anything but as she clapped her hands together in excitement to see me.
“Elaine!” she gushed. “Such a pleasure to have you! I can’t wait until Marissa Frank arrives! Just a few more minutes and she should be pulling up with her collection, armed and ready to go.”
I had no idea what she was talking about and it must have shown on my face. She tipped her head as she spoke again.
“Lucian didn’t tell you? We have both my stylist and beautician coming over today to treat you to whatever you desire. He said your suitcase most certainly needs the additions.”
No, Lucian hadn’t told me. He hadn’t mentioned a thing, and it touched me all over again to realize just how important my happiness must be to him. He was spoiling me in every way he could, at every opportunity.
“It’s going to be so much fun!” Francesca exclaimed, and I had to hide another fresh bout of happy tears that threatened to spill from me, beaming a grin right back at her.
“Thank you, I really appreciate it.”
She waved a hand. “Nothing to be thankful for. Two girls together, having fun. Makes my day as much as yours.”
I had nothing to take with me, so I didn’t even bother looking, just stepped out onto the landing alongside her and let her lead the way.
All the way down the stairs she was telling me just how amazing a stylist Marissa Frank was and how excellent her beautician was to match. She walked me through to the main sitting room telling me about some of the incredible outfits Marissa had sourced for her and just how fantastic my wardrobe was going to be by the time she left today.
“Prosecco or coffee?” she asked me with a laugh as she called the housekeeper in.
“Coffee, please, black,” I said, and she shrugged, then ordered herself a prosecco.
Yet again it was a strange situation not to be ordering a prosecco to match, but I didn’t want one. I had no desire to drink again. It was gone. Faded. Finished.
One thing I did want was the doctor who arrived on demand and checked out my rib cage through my bandages. Francesca acted like it was nothing when they nodded their approval and gave me a shot of antibiotics, wiping it aside l
ike no big deal, even though it had been a huge scary one when it had happened.
I was really fitting in here, comfortable, and so was Lucian.
For once I felt like this truly might work for us. Maybe, just maybe, we’d survive this long term.
The housekeeper had only just delivered our drinks when I heard a hello sounding out from the sitting room door. Francesca jumped to her feet and went rushing over, hugging the woman stepping inside and showering her with air kisses. The woman resounded with style, just as Francesca did. She had a flick of violet in her jet-black curls, dressed in a glorious purple tunic over fitted pants.
I guessed this was Marissa Frank, and rightly so, since she headed right over and clasped her hands together, staring at my clothes up and down.
“This is Elaine,” Francesca told her, and the woman’s jaw practically dropped open.
“Elaine Constantine?!”
It felt like I hadn’t been recognized in years by that point, and I’m sure I was blushing.
“Hi, yes, I’m Elaine Constantine.”
Francesca picked up the conversation for me.
“Elaine is relocating here to the UK,” she told the stylist. “Only it’s confidential at the moment, non-disclosure at any cost.”
The woman nodded her approval. “Of course, yes, absolutely.”
She shook off her surprise and gave me a smile of a whole different nature. Excitement and respect to a whole different tune. That’s what the Constantine name does for you, though.
“I’d better start bringing the collection in,” she said and she was off with the help of the housekeeper and butler, bringing cases and clothes racks in from outside.
There were a lot of them. It was like being in a designer store by the time the whole selection of clothes was unloaded. She’d also arrived with a selection of full-length mirrors, all ready for spin and twirl.
“So, tell me what kind of styles you like,” Marissa Frank said, and I took a breath, then began my answer.
I told her exactly what kind of styles I liked, everything from designer casual to designer evening wear. She measured me up to confirm all my sizes, and her markers. I was a size eight. She had a whole ocean of size eight clothes ready for my perusal, and Francesca was joining in with the exclamations as I started working my way through the racks, pulling out anything that grabbed my interest.
My God, plenty of things grabbed my interest.
Beautiful designer blouses and pencil skirts, right through to floaty mid-length dresses, fitted pants and tight little cami tops that put Jemma’s entire wardrobe to shame.
Marissa Frank had everything I could possibly want. Bras and panties and tights and stockings. Bustiers and corsets and tights. Jeans. Jackets. EVERYTHING.
I was in my element as I pulled clothes out from the racks to try on. It only took one scoot of me heading into the room next door and shifting from Jemma’s clothes into a new bra and panties before I felt utterly like Elaine again. It was like a light switch had been flicked on in my head.
Francesca was as expressive as Marissa was, both of them clapping and whooping whenever I stepped out in a new outfit. They loved them all. So did I. I had a new level of appreciation for every single thing I tried on after having gone without any clothes at all bar Lucian’s shirt for days on end.
We took a break for lunch, presented with some quaint little British cheese and cucumber sandwiches that I enjoyed as we chattered some girly chatter between the three of us.
It was after lunch that Marissa presented me with a rack full of occasion wear and my heart truly started to thump. Silks and satins and sparkles. Diamante and mermaid tails and backless gowns. Every one of the dresses was enough to take my breath.
So were the price tags, but once more I was back to Constantine status, on the arm of a Morelli. Once more price had no relevance in my world.
It was a deep dark blue ballgown that transfixed me more than anything else. Taffeta interlaced with silks, absolutely divine. But there were others, SO many others. A silver satin slip which glided just perfectly over my curves. A little black dress that hugged me like a glove. A pale pastel pink gown with a tail and diamante all around the neckline.
I knew I’d be taking them all.
Francesca covered her mouth with her hands as I stepped into the room once Marissa had fastened me into the little black number. She was nodding like crazy as she moved one hand to her chest.
“Jesus, Elaine, that is truly sensational! SENSATIONAL!”
It felt it.
I felt sensational.
But not nearly as sensational as I felt once Francesca’s beautician turned up later that afternoon armed with a mobile salon chair and every tool she could ever need.
She styled my hair, lashes, and eyebrows. She gave me a facial, and did my nails, and waxed all the bits of me that needed waxing. Then she addressed my makeup situation—making me up like the Elaine Constantine everyone expected me to be, then leaving a full makeup case of supplies for me in her absence.
Once again Francesca covered her mouth with her hands as I stepped back in to the sitting room.
“You really do look like Elaine Constantine again now,” she said. “You look absolutely fucking perfect.”
I only hoped Lucian agreed with her when he arrived back that evening. Only it seemed that evening wouldn’t be all that long coming. Francesca checked the time on her cell phone before shooting a glance out onto the driveway through the main windows.
“Devon messaged an hour ago to say they will be home before dinner. We only have an hour or so left.” She smiled at me. “So what’s it going to be, sweetie? What are you going to wear for Lucian when he steps in through the door?”
I’d already chosen. I was smiling as I stared over at my new rack of items, eyes hovering on the silver satin slip. My God, just to imagine his hands over me through that fabric. The very idea sealed the choice in my mind.
I held it up for Francesca to see and she gushed all over again.
“YES! He is going to go crazy to see you in that! CRAZY!” With that she sighed and gestured down to her own outfit, smiling a girly smile. “It seems I’d better select something fitting myself, then,” she said, and summoned the housekeepers to take my new wardrobe upstairs while she guided me along with my arm in hers.
“Let’s get ready,” she said. “Let’s give our men something that knocks them truly senseless.”
22
Lucian
I’d enjoyed my day with Devon Quentin, it had given me a new lease on life. A thrill. That’s the ultimate word for the buzz that was coursing through me. The satisfaction in knowing you are forging deals which will lead to an epicenter of success. Huge success. The kind of success that I’d been bred to create, and excelled at through my own nature.
We rolled back up at the manor in the limo, still talking through the finer details of some of our newfound partnerships. The driver opened the door for me and I stepped out, looking up at the magnificent house with a sense of satisfaction. Satisfaction and excitement.
My angel was waiting for me in there.
I couldn’t wait to hear about her day with Francesca’s stylist. I couldn’t wait to see the smile on her face as she showed me her collection of new attire, my princess getting whatever she wanted and deserved. Elaine Constantine deserved everything in the world, and I was going to give it to her. I was going to give her everything she ever wanted and more.
“Dinner will be a good one tonight,” Quentin told me. “Roasted pheasant.”
I had no doubt it would be a good one. Quentin’s chef was Michelin starred.
“My mouth’s watering already,” I responded. “I’m looking forward to it.”
I felt so alive as we stepped into the hallway, alive and buzzing and eager to see my angel, but I was stopped in my tracks when Quentin’s gaze shot up to the balcony and mine followed.
Francesca and Elaine were standing there, proud and poised together as they leane
d against the railing and stared down at us with a smile.
Christ, my sweet angel looked absolutely fucking sensational.
There she was again, the woman in gold who’d transfixed me right from day one. Only this time she was a woman in silver, in a gown that graced every part of her perfect body.
This was the goddess I couldn’t keep my eyes or my hands off at Tinsley Constantine’s birthday ball, only this time she was her to a whole other league. She was now the goddess that I was in love with.
Quentin elbowed me in jovial camaraderie as they began the descent down the staircase and fully came into view. Francesca was also a stunning creature, but my fucking God, Elaine was divinity itself.
It looked like she had a new lease on life, too. There was a confidence in her eyes and smile that made me smile proud right back.
“Welcome home, boys!” Francesca exclaimed, but my gaze wasn’t on her, it was on my siren as she stepped on over to me and wrapped her arms around my neck.
She didn’t need to speak and neither did I, our stares said more than words ever could. I imagine they said a lot to the Quentins as well since Devon cleared his throat to get our attention, then gave us a laugh.
“You can get a room later, we have pheasant on the way,” he said, and Francesca was laughing too.
Elaine laughed along with them, blue eyes sparkling like pure fucking sapphires as I let out a laugh of my own.
We’d most certainly be getting a fucking room later.
I gripped Elaine’s fingers nice and tight as we made our way on through to the dinner hall. The places were all set at the top of the table and I pulled Elaine’s seat out for her, my mouth watering at the sight of her bare back as she sat herself down. I saw just a glimpse of one of the bruises I’d left on her shoulder and that made my dick hard in a flash as I took my place beside her. I could feel her, her whole body a tempt and a tease in that dress.
The server delivered the meals, but the food held no interest to me. Roast pheasant could go fuck itself compared to the woman I wanted to ravage. I ate mine with an appreciative smile on my face, but it was barely more than paper thin. My attention was all on Elaine recounting her day along with Francesca, gushing with excitement about all of the wonderful things she had tried on.
