Chambers of Desire: Opus 1

by Sophie Moreau

  He reached his hand across to my lounge chair and placed it gently on my thigh, my skin burning under his touch. I felt my nipples tightening, pressing against the soft bikini top. What was he doing? His thumb stroked my leg slowly, dangerously close to my bikini bottoms, and despite myself I let out a quiet gasp.

  “Look at me,” he instructed, and I raised my gaze to meet his. That sexy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Remember what I said. Nothing happens… until you want it to happen. Don’t worry about understanding every little thing that I do. Your only job is to enjoy yourself during the next three weeks. That’s it.”

  My heart thumped against my chest, bam, bam, bam! “What are you afraid of?” he asked softly, as if he could hear the pounding rhythm against my ribcage.

  “Nothing,” I whispered, but meant everything.

  “I know you’re nervous. It’s normal,” he said. “In fact, I even prefer it that way, Sabrina.” My mind skipped back again to the artwork at the office. The sensual pain on display.

  His hand moved from my thigh to my hand resting in my lap, and he played with my fingers in his. Slowly, he inched his face closer to mine, again brushing his lips against my cheek—first the left side, then the right. Deliberately, leisurely. The flutter in my stomach began to spread, creeping into my limbs, seizing my heart.

  The moment was broken when a door slammed on the other side of the room, and the echo of footsteps entered the room. “Mr. Chambers?” a squeaky voice chirped. “I have your 11:00 a.m. conference call ready for you.”

  As another attendant in a white uniform approached us, Calvin pulled back, mouth tightened in an annoyed scowl. “Thank you, Franz. I’ll be in momentarily.”

  “Would you like me to place your lunch order for your return?” Franz asked.

  “Actually, yes, thanks. I’ll have prosciutto with mozzarella and basil on a baguette,” Calvin said. “With a Cobb salad.” Turning to me, “Sabrina, what do you want?”

  “Really, I’m not very hungry,” I answered. Stuffing my face while wearing a bikini was not my idea of a good first date. “The Coke’s fine.”

  Calvin’s eyes narrowed. “You need to eat.”

  I shrugged, offering him a smile. “I’m fine,” I said gently. My mother had trained me well in the art of refusing food. But her tips and tricks didn’t have much effect on the man in front of me now.

  He shook his head. “Franz, make that two sandwiches and two salads. I’m sure you’ll be hungry in an hour when the food arrives.”

  I could already tell it was no use trying to argue, “Maybe you’re right,” I agreed. I doubt it. He had my stomach so knotted that I couldn’t imagine ever eating again.

  “I’ll be back in less than an hour,” Calvin said as he got up, slipping his arms into a robe and tying it loosely around his waist. “Read, nap, swim—whatever you’d like. Enjoy yourself.”

  When he left the room, my breathing began to return to normal. Holy shit, I was done for. What was that? Those small strokes with his thumb, the warm heat of his mouth against my cheek—I was torn between wanting to throw myself in the pool to cool down and wanting to rip off my swimsuit entirely, have him take me on the lounge chair right then and there. Something was changing about me after all these years. My vision had been destroyed and my fantasies and desires were becoming keener, wilder, kinkier than ever before, especially with Chambers around. And the fact that this would probably be the first truly independent thing I’ve ever done would make this so much sweeter.

  My growing attraction to him was undeniable but also unnerving. I had melted so easily under his touch, so quickly. Maybe it was the newness of the situation, the promise of what was to come. It’s only the first day, Sabrina.

  I got off the lounge and slowly lowered myself into the pool, relishing the sensation of the cool water drinking me in. Perfect. The billionaire’s version of a cold shower. The pool felt even larger once I was inside, and it was pure luxury to have the full length to myself. I dipped myself under, silence filling my ears as I dove toward the bottom of the pool.

  When I was drying, Franz returned with the sandwiches, Calvin closely on his heels. “I’m famished,” Calvin said. “Hungry yet?”

  I smiled shyly at him. “I’ll have a few bites because it looks like your chef went to quite a bit of trouble.”

  “Good girl,” he said approvingly.

  All men like women who eat or so they say, I thought. But they don’t seem to enjoy it as much as having a slim girlfriend. Pushing that catty thought aside—I joined him back at the lounge chairs.

  “How did your conference call go?” I asked, taking a small bite of salad.

  “Productive,” he answered. “My partners in Hong Kong want updates on how they should proceed tomorrow. Their market will open in a few hours.”

  “If it’s Hong Kong, it will be quite a bit longer than a few hours,” I said.

  “Smartass, how did you know that?”

  “I’ve been there quite a few times, my father’s company was involved in a few real estate deals there.”

  He continued to tell me about the call, chatting about the various obstacles his clients faced as I picked at my sandwich. Taking a long swig of iced tea, he stood.

  “Sabrina, unfortunately, I’ll be spending the rest of the day in meetings. I’d take you along, but you’d be bored to tears. They’re meetings I must be rather involved in, and you are, I admit, a distraction.”

  Oops, I’m melting again already. So much for playing it cool.

  “I’ll have a driver waiting out front for you. You can do anything you’d like. Something fun. Do you have anything in mind?”

  I mulled over the options. I needed to do something physical, release some mounting tension in my body. “Is there a yoga studio nearby?” I asked.

  “Less than twenty minutes away. My favorite place has a class every hour.”

  “Do they have a shop?” I asked, returning his smile. It made me happy to please him. “This,” I said, glancing down at the bikini, “probably isn’t appropriate for yoga.”

  “I’d appreciate it,” he said, eyes flicking over my bare skin. “But yes, they do have a shop. And they’re familiar with me. Just tell them to put it on my account.”

  “Thanks,” I said. It felt as if I were on an all-expense paid vacation.

  “I’ll see you back here at four,” he promised. “No meetings, no distractions, just us.”

  “OK,” I agreed, another shiver shooting through me, the possibilities of the evening clouding my vision.

  Chapter 5

  When I returned from my yoga session late that afternoon, Du Cheval told me that Calvin was waiting for me in his office. Thank god, because my curiosity about his plans for the evening was eating me up.

  “Come in,” a sexy voice reverberated through the door. His dark hair was raked back, as if he’d been running his hands through it all afternoon. The top button on his white collared shirt was undone, and he’d loosened his tie around his neck, exposing a tantalizing peek at the golden chest I’d admired in the pool earlier that day. “Change of plans,” he said when I walked in, resting his head in his hands and rubbing his temples. “I have to work this evening, Sabrina.”

  I couldn’t help it; I knew I looked crestfallen. “Oh,” I said softly, “should I head back to the hotel?”

  “No,” he answered. “There’s a company event in the city this evening, and I’d like you to attend. It’ll be a pleasant group of people, and I don’t intend to keep you cooped up for your entire visit.” A pinging sound came from his laptop, and Calvin turned toward his screen, eyes narrowed.

  He was sending me to a party on my own?

  Distractedly, he continued, “Du Cheval serve as your escort and make sure you get back to the hotel safely” His face softened as he looked back up at me. “I wish it could be me instead.”

  I gnawed nervously on the inside of my lower lip. ”I’ll need to change…” Why was he sending me to thi
s thing? Why would he want me to meet his colleagues? Something was off about this.

  “I took care of that,” he said, a devilish smile crossing his lips. “One of my assistants delivered an outfit for you to wear this evening. I hope you’ll like it.”

  This guy had spent more on my wardrobe in a day than I had in the past year. “You think of everything,” I said with a smile. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure,” Calvin said, letting his amusement spread to his blue eyes. “Will an hour be enough time to get ready? I had a suite prepared upstairs so that you can shower. You should find everything you need.”

  “If I hurry,” I said smiling.

  When I left his office, the same pool attendant was waiting in the hall to show me to my room. “Follow me, Ms. Clarke,” she said.

  The first thing I noticed when I entered the all-white guest room was the silken black skirt and intricately patterned green shirt on the bed, dazzling against the pale linen. A sexy pair of nude stilettos completed the outfit, and by the time I had finished dressing, I felt like the most sophisticated woman on the planet. Calvin, or his assistant, had impeccable taste.

  When I walked out to leave, Calvin stood at the bottom of the stairs, enjoying the view as I descended. “You look lovely,” he said quietly, pulling me close with one large hand on my lower back. I blushed with pleasure. “Are you sure you can’t come, too?” I asked, taking in the musky scent of his cologne and wishing neither of us were going anywhere but back upstairs together.

  He shook his head and bit his full lower lip.“Next time,” he answered, voice full of promises.

  ***

  We pulled up to Chambers Fund Management building about 8:00, and I saw that most offices were still lit. A company that never sleeps, I thought. No wonder they’re so successful. Stepping into the elevator with two other smartly dressed men, Du Cheval pressed the 89 button—the highest floor. I adjusted my skirt furtively, wanting to look perfect.

  When the elevator opened, we entered a large open space with huge glass windows and panoramic views of the city. The room had been set for an intimate cocktail party with high top tables dotting the room and a bar set in the corner. Tiny tea lights perched atop each table, flames flickering softly.

  Du Cheval touched my elbow. “I’ll have to step out for a few hours, but I’ll be back to pick you up later this evening. Make yourself at home. And please, be careful with other men.” What did he mean by that? Du Cheval would make an incredible babysitter. Thanks, but no thanks. He checked his Blackberry and returned it to his pocket, a smile on his face.

  “Where are you going?” I asked frantically, not wanting to be left alone with this group of strangers. Despite our chilly relationship, familiarity was better than nothing. My anxiety level shot through roof.

  Du Cheval gave me a curious look. Probably bewildered by my lack of composure. I doubt the man had ever felt anxious in his life.. I don’t have time for this, his eyes said. “If there’s an emergency, call me.” I wondered what would constitute an emergency to Du Cheval. At least I could probably count on him to show up if I broke a heel… he took fashion seriously, if nothing else. He pressed an iPhone into my hand and disappeared into the crowd of people. OK. Fine. I don’t need him to babysit me; I’m perfectly able to mingle with partygoers. If my mother had taught me nothing else, it was to be a gracious guest. Determined to enjoy myself, I headed to the bar where a small group of people congregated. I waited quietly in line, surveying the room. Most people were dressed in business attire, with the men in suits and women in pencil skirts and fabulous blouses. I assumed they had come directly from the office. Sixty or seventy people must have been present, and I wondered whether they all worked for Chambers. A sexy jazz beat hummed through the party, and small clusters of people chatted conspiratorially over their cocktails.

  “Champagne, please,” I told the bartender.

  As he filled a tall, thin flute with bubbles, a woman elbowed her way from the line gathered behind me, banging her empty glass on the bar. She wore an ivory silk shell and wide-legged wool pants, rich brown hair swept elegantly into a tight chignon. Tiny diamonds glittered in her ears, complementing her sparkling wristwatch. Chanel. I could tell from her plump pout that she’d had a bit of work done, and I guessed her to be in her early forties, although it was difficult to tell. A Restylane grin, my mother would say meanly, making the two syllables rhyme, but I suspected she began the augmentation process herself. Everyone over thirty in Dallas had her plastic surgeon on speed dial.

  “Excuse me!” she laughed warmly. “I didn’t mean to bump into you like that, but I just got off the phone with my mother and couldn’t wait another moment for a refill on my Scotch. The woman is a nightmare!”

  I smiled politely as I stepped to the side with my champagne, making room for the bartender to pour her a drink. Tipping her glass toward the bartender, she turned back toward me. “I’m Juliette Andrews, Director of HR for Chambers Funds. I haven’t seen you before.” She had a blunt, no-nonsense way of speaking that somehow didn’t come off as rude.

  Swallowing my champagne, I extended my hand, “I’m Sabrina Clarke. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Juliette shook my hand firmly. “Likewise. Are you new to the company?”

  “No,” I began. Calvin hadn’t instructed me on how to address our relationship, so I wracked my brain for an appropriate answer. “Calvin is a friend of the family,” I said lamely. “I’m visiting from Dallas for a few weeks.”

  Juliette eyed me quizzically but didn’t press the issue. Instead, she reached out and gave my arm a little squeeze. “Well, welcome to the city. First time?”

  I laughed. “Is it that obvious?”

  “I recognize a kindred spirit,” she said, smiling. “Another lifetime ago, I was young and wide-eyed like you are, fresh off the bus from Indiana.”

  She sighed, lost in thought. “I called my mom after three days, crying, begging her to send money for a flight home. She didn’t, thank God. Otherwise, who knows where I’d be. Probably barefoot with eight kids, making mac ‘n cheese and Hamburger Helper with a fat husband.”

  We both laughed, and I took another sip of champagne. Already my glass was almost empty. “How long have you worked for Calvin?” I asked.

  “I’ve worked for him for seven years,” Juliette answered. “Before that, he worked for me for two.”

  “What?” I laughed. “I can’t imagine him working for anyone.”

  She chuckled. “Which is why it was so short-lived. When I worked at Goldblatt Financials, I recruited him right out of college. Right off the bat, I knew he would do amazing things. You can’t hide that kind of brilliance. He spent every waking moment of those two years in the office, soaking up every bit of information he could find. When he put in his resignation to start his company, he asked me to head his HR department. I accepted on the spot.”

  “He was that convincing, huh?”

  “I’d already watched him powerhouse his way through Goldblatt the two years prior. He didn’t have to do much persuading. His work spoke for itself,” she said, smiling.

  “He is pretty… intense,” I agreed. My glass was now empty, and I wanted another. That’s the problem with really excellent champagne… it disappears too quickly.

  Juliette nodded in agreement. “But don’t let him intimidate you, Sabrina. I don’t know whether you’ve seen it yet, but there’s another side to him. A sweet, kind side. He has a heart of gold.”

  I flushed as I remembered how his eyes softened when he looked at me. “He’s been very generous so far,” I said.

  “Good,” Juliette said. “If he decides to give you a tough time in any way, you come right to me. OK, doll? I hate to be the type to say, ‘I knew him when-‘” she paused, laughed, and continued,” No, actually, with someone as impressive as Calvin, I like saying it.” Her smile was warm and full of straightforward good humor.

  “Deal.” She was a far better ally than Du Cheval was.

&
nbsp; “Excellent. Come on, then, Sabrina. Let’s snag a refill, and I’ll introduce you to some others in the company.”

  As if on cue, a tuxedoed waiter appeared with a tray of champagne flutes, followed by two dapper-looking men.

  “Brent, Eli! There you are!” Juliette exclaimed. “I was just coming to look for you.”

  The older of the two, a broad ex-military type with graying temples, extended his hand first. “Sabrina Clarke, I’m Brent Stokes. Pleased to finally meet you.”

  “Finally?” I asked. “It sounds as though you already know who I am.”

  He nodded, his weathered face stern. “I’m Head of Security. It’s my job to know who you are. I’ve been keeping a close eye on you since you arrived in New York. I’m working closely with Du Cheval to monitor your safety.”

  I was taken aback. I had no idea that Calvin had arranged for me to be under a protective watch while I was with him. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Stokes.” How long had he been monitoring me?

  Stokes nodded and adjusted his earpiece. “If there’s anything you need during your stay, I’m available.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I guess. I still didn’t know why Calvin thought it was necessary to have his Head Security waste his time on me.

  “And I’m Eli Lambert, Financial Director.” Eli grasped my hand and shook it enthusiastically. He reminded me of an overeager schoolboy with his curly back hair, mischievous grin, and red cheeks. “Glad to have you here with us this evening, Sabrina,” he said, grinning at me. I smiled back, pleased to see that Du Cheval seemed the only one who openly despised me.

  “Welcome to the Boys’ Club,” Juliette said, rolling her eyes affectionately. “Don’t let their suits fool you, Sabrina. They’re just big goofs.”

  As the evening continued, Juliette was a perfect hostess, introducing me to Calvin’s staff, making sure my glass was always full. My mother would have been impressed. I enjoyed myself immensely, letting my guard down and bantering with various guests.