I just couldn’t tell him.
Chapter One
I was brought up to be a good Catholic girl. My mother died when I was young and I was raised by my father. Instead of attending prep school like many of the daughters of my father’s colleagues, I went to a strict Catholic girls’ school in the heart of Manhattan. Every Thursday I was required to attend mass. I went to weekly confession and was watched over by ruthless nuns ready to strike me down for the smallest infraction.
My father raised me to marry a wealthy, proper man prominent in New York society. All my boyfriends were to be carefully screened by him. Before I could even go out on a date my father demanded to know the boy’s name, his parents’ name, and their occupations--practically their whole family history.
I complied. I went on ‘proper’ dates with high society young men, even though I didn’t have the slightest interest in any of them.
My dates would drop me off at my father’s home promptly at eleven pm as required by my father.
Then at midnight when my father retired for the evening I would slip down the back staircase to hop in Rick’s Camaro and speed off into the night. Finally, after many months of sticky fumbling in the backseat of his car, I found myself pregnant.
Pregnant at seventeen.
As I gazed at myself in the mirror, I could still recall the rage on my father’s face when I told him.
“You’re what?” He screamed. My father, normally a quiet and reserved man, was yelling at the top of his lungs. His glasses fell to the floor and shattered as he shook with rage. His eyes bulged, his face bright red, and his breath came in angry gasps.
“You…you…how could you do this to me? What will everyone think, Veronica?”
Sitting in an easy chair in his office, I shrank down low. Feeling so ashamed that I wanted to die, tears began to trickle slowly down my cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” My voice emerged as a whimper.
“I’m sorry, too, Veronica. What the hell am I going to do now? I’ve been planning to take you to the International Debutante Ball next year. You know that! That was your mother’s dying wish for you. How could you do this to me?” He paced angrily back and forth his footsteps quiet on the priceless Oriental rug.
I ran my hands through my thick honey colored hair. I, too, had been looking forward to the ball, not because I wanted to marry some stuck up, blue blooded asshole, but because it was my mother’s dream for me.
Now I’d ruined my chances of ever being invited to the ball.
All because I couldn’t control my restless, demanding libido.
“Daddy, I could…I could end it. Sarah Michaelson got pregnant last year. Her mother took her to a clinic out of state.”
“Sarah Michaelson? Randolph’s daughter?” His eyes lit up briefly.
“See, you didn’t even know she’d been pregnant.”
My father sank down in his chair thoughtfully. We were a devout Catholic family and to even suggest an abortion was an abomination; however, my father put some things above faith.
Like his precious reputation.
Randolph Michaelson was a highly respected man in New York high society. He and my father played golf at least once a week. My father had grown up with Randolph. Sarah attended the same school I did and my father knew we were friendly with each other.
But what my father didn’t know was that Sarah had never been pregnant, at least as far as I knew. I just thought that would be a good way to introduce the solution I’d been thinking about.
The thought of ending my pregnancy sickened me, but at this point I didn’t know what to do. Before I had ever even had sex, I had wanted to go on the Pill, but my father forbade me.
Anxiously, I watched my father’s face. I could tell he was deep in thought. I gazed out the window watching the snow fall over the ground covering it in a thick blanket of white.
“Daddy?” I whispered.
He waved his hand.
“We can’t do that, Veronica. Despite my desire to keep this quiet, I can’t allow you to end this pregnancy. As you know, I was brought up a devout Catholic. Even the suggestion of such a thing is sinful. I will make some calls. There’s a Catholic boarding school in England that deals with problem girls like you. My sister, Shannon, volunteered there for a few years. I will send you there. You may have the baby and then they will find a good home for it. You can return next fall and no one will be the wiser.”
I sat on my hands rocking back and forth. I had a miserable, aching feeling in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t want to leave my home, my friends.
“Daddy…I want to stay here,” I whispered. The huge portrait of my mother hanging on the wall behind him caught my eye. She had been so beautiful and so young when she died. I didn’t want to leave the place where we’d all lived together.
“Veronica, there’s no other way I can fix this. You’re the one who spread her legs and got pregnant. If you hadn’t been seeing that filthy boy from the Bronx none of this would’ve happened. If you had been ladylike and dated the nice, upstanding young men you said you were, this wouldn’t be happening!” He slammed his fists on his desk.
“Upstanding young men? Really, Daddy? Do you know who these ‘upstanding young men’ really are? For one, Jonas Goodman likes to fuck girls in the ass. Michael Thomas has had threesomes with girls and guys. Harry Roberson wanted me to rim him before he fucked me doggy style in the back of his daddy’s Maserati. So there, Dad, these are the ‘upstanding’ young men of the Upper East Side!” I couldn’t believe I’d just said those words to him.
His face turned even redder. He clutched his chest as he bent over trying to breathe. I jumped up prepared to call 911.
He struggled to find his words.
“Veronica Lynn James, how dare you speak such language in this house! You’re seventeen years old not a forty year old hooker. Obviously, I haven’t been strict enough with you. Your mother and I tried to raise you to be a proper young woman. You talk worse than a drunken sailor. I cannot believe what you’ve just told me. You will NOT be dating anyone until you leave this house when you are eighteen. You are going away to the school in England. It’s run by very strict nuns which is exactly what you need. Never in my life have I heard such filth uttered by a young woman!”
My shoulders sagged in defeat. I knew there was no changing his mind.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Six months ago
A familiar vibrating noise startled me. I glanced down at my phone.
Ash!
Trembling, I picked up the phone.
“Ronnie? What the fuck is this business with Vitalife?” The anger in his voice caused me to fall back on the bed.
“Ash? What are you talking about?” I feigned ignorance. I knew he’d be upset, but not this upset.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Ronnie! You’re the one who bought those shares from Martin Stahli. I traced it back to you and your father. How could you? You knew how much this would mean to me!”
“Ash, this isn’t personal. Business is business. Vitalife is a great investment. That’s all.”
His stony silence reverberated through me.
“Ash?”
He sighed.
“Is this about us? Are you doing this to get back at me?”
“Not at all.”
“Then what is it, Ronnie? You and your father don’t have the slightest interest in keeping Vitalife alive. You just want to sell it off piece by piece.”
I was at a loss for words. He was right. If we kept those shares, that’s exactly what my father would do.
“Look, Ash, I told you this was business.”
“No, Ronnie, it’s not! I want you to sell those shares to me. I will make it worth your while, I promise you that. You know why I want Vitalife! That drug will help so many people. Don’t let your petty feelings get in the way of that.”
Holding the phone to my ear, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My face was streaked with m
uddy streams from my mascara. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.
“Ash, I can’t do that. I’m sorry.”
There was silence then a click.
Throwing my phone down, I laid back in the bed clutching the sheet to my chest.
Oh my God, Ash. I’m so sorry. Staring up at the ceiling, I thought about the first time I’d met Ash. It was the first day of my first class in graduate school at Harvard.
Fall 2004
Feeling eyes upon me, I glanced up to see the most intense hazel eyes staring at me. To say he was handsome would be an understatement. He was tall, with a lean, but muscular frame. His dark brown hair was styled to perfection. He was wearing khaki pants and a blue button down shirt emblazoned with a designer label. His lips were sensual and full curling into a broad smile as I caught his eye.
“Is this seat taken?” His voice sent shivers down my spine. In an act of uncharacteristic shyness, I blushed slightly.
“No.”
He sat down his eyes fixating on my sizable breasts in my tight pink sweater.
“I’m Ash. What’s yours, beautiful?”
I rolled my eyes inwardly. I’d heard that same line a million times. I had expected better from him.
“I’m Veronica. Ash—that’s an interesting name.”
“It was my father’s name as well. Actually, his name is Ashler. I’m Ashton.”
“Ashler Blackthorne?”
He nodded, his gaze still lingering on my breasts.
“He’s in the real estate business, right?”
“That’s right,” he replied, still smiling.
“He sold my father his office.”
“Who’s your father?”
“Ronald James.”
He nodded.
“I’ve met him briefly. I interned with my father this past summer. I’m surprised we’ve never met.”
I shrugged clicking my long nails on the desk.
“Small world. Well, Veronica, I’m very pleased to meet you. This must be your first year here as well.”
“In graduate school. I got my undergraduate degree here as well.”
“Nice. You must be quite intelligent.”
“I do just fine, Ashton.”
He leaned back spreading his arm over the back of the chair.
“I’m sure you do, Miss James. You can call me Ash.”
“Really? Who says I want to call you?”
He laughed, his eyes twinkling. God, he was hot. I could envision his hands running over my body pulling me to him. His lips pressed against mine. As his gaze traveled my body, I ran the tip of my tongue over my lips. I could only imagine how it would feel to have him slip his hands into my bra tugging my nipples until they tingled.
“Oh, Miss James, I must say I’ve never seen anyone fall so hard so fast.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“What? What the hell are you talking about?”
He smirked.
“You. You’ve totally fallen for me.”
I nearly fell out of my chair. At first, I was offended. Who the hell did this guy think he was? Then a terrifying thought.
Was I that transparent?
With no other way to save face, I began to gather up my books.
“You may have this seat, Ash. I believe I will move over there. I have never heard a man with such nerve before.”
As he grabbed my wrist, I felt the warmth of his hand on my flesh. Electricity cackled between us like a live wire.
His expression softened and I saw desire for me burning in his eyes.
“Please, Veronica, stay. I’m sorry, I was having a bit of fun at your expense. You are a fiery one and I’d love to get to know you better. How about we have dinner tonight?”
Closing my eyes slightly, I could still feel his hand on my wrist. All of a sudden, the air felt stiflingly hot and I could feel perspiration throughout my body. A tiny bead of sweat trickled between my breasts.
Slowly, I sat back down. He removed his hand from my wrist.
“I’d like that, Ash. I’d love to know just how you got so damn cocky.”
He laughed merrily.
“Oh, Veronica, I just bet you would. Get ready to have your mind blown.”
Despite my determination to not let him win me over so easily, I found myself beaming. My pussy clenched tightly as I felt myself getting wet.
This was going to be one hot night.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Sitting down at the long conference table in my father’s office, I nervously awaited the meeting with my father. He wasn’t going to be happy with what I had to say.
After graduating with my MBA from Harvard, I had gone to work for a prominent investment banking firm, Phillips and Hartman, in London. I had learned the ropes--how to recognize a great deal, how to negotiate terms, etc. After securing several multimillion dollar deals for my company, my father began to respect me as a savvy businesswoman. When I met Bryce Leedham the III from London, the son of a British ambassador, my father warmed to me even more. He adored Bryce and when we announced our engagement he was beyond thrilled.
So when my father’s company bought out my firm in London, I came to work for him. He was ecstatic. It was a careful calculation on my part as I was plotting for ways to get back in Ash’s life. I’d watched him from afar for many years. When Vitalife starting showing signs of trouble, I immediately brought it to my father’s attention. He allowed me free reign and I arranged to have the shares purchased.
Now Ash was right where I wanted him. He needed something and I was the only one who could give it to him.
>>>>>>>>>>>
For our first date, I selected the Valentino dress my father purchased for me last Christmas. I stepped into the revealing gown. It had a sweetheart neckline revealing much of my enormous cleavage. It hugged my curves in all the right places emphasizing my tiny waist and hourglass figure. I painted my face with care dabbing on a bit of lip gloss at the last minute. My long honey colored hair was softly curled and lay gently upon my shoulders. Ruby and diamond earrings hung delicately from my lobes.
At precisely 7 PM, a black Aston Martin pulled up outside my apartment. I raced to meet him at the door.
As I swung the door open, I could hardly keep my mouth from falling open. He looked even more handsome dressed to kill in a black Italian suit with a deep red tie. His hair was styled with even more precision. He looked like a GQ model.
He gave a low whistle when he saw me.
“My God, Veronica, you look breathtaking.” He took my hand and pressed it to his lips.
What a fine gentleman thing to do!
“Thank you, Ash. You look quite nice yourself.” That was an understatement.
He pulled out a single red rose.
“For you, lovely.” I brought it to my face and inhaled the scent. So perfect.
I quickly placed the rose in a Cloisonné vase.
“Thank you.”
Suddenly, he pulled me close to him. I shivered with excitement and a tiny bit of fear. What was he doing?
“My lovely, get ready for the night of your life. I’m just full of surprises,” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear.
As my full breasts pressed against his chest, I could feel every inch of his muscular frame. A familiar hardness pressed against my thigh. Oh, I wanted him. I couldn’t wait to have his hands run up my legs inch by inch, his fingertips roaming ever further to reach my aching, wet pussy.
“I can’t wait, Ash.”
Quickly, he whisked me away to the restaurant in his elegant Aston Martin.
Unlike most of the dates I’d had since I’d been at Harvard, Ash didn’t take me to a fine local restaurant. As we passed all the familiar elegant dining establishments, I became a bit nervous. We had been driving for a while and I recognized we were nearing Hyannis.
“Ash, where are we going?”
His face was obscured in the darkness. I could just make out his perfect profile.
“Someplace ve
ry special. Don’t worry, you’ll love it.”
He reached over to squeeze my thigh. I could feel the sexual tension building between us. I didn’t know how long I would be able to hold out. My lacy red panties were soaking wet already.
Suddenly, he turned the car down a long private road. There at the end was a dimly lit huge building. It looked like someone’s home not a restaurant.
I could hear the roar of the ocean waves crashing onto the surf. We were right on the beach at Hyannis.
“Why are we here, Ash?”
Smiling, he gave me a wink.
“You’ll see.”
Rushing around to my side, he threw open the door in a gentlemanly gesture.
The briny scent of the sea filled me as he led me up a long walkway. Suddenly, a house loomed large before us. It was an enormous gray shingle covered house with huge bay windows. It was absolutely breathtaking. The house was situated on a rare and elevated harbor front with a private staircase leading to a gorgeous private beach.
“Ash, who lives here?”
“I do on the weekends. It used to be my grandfather’s. When I was a child, I used to come out here to go fishing and boating. When he passed away a few years ago, he left it to me.” Throwing open the massive door, we walked into what seemed to me to be a palace.
A wraparound staircase provided a captivating center to the home. The flooring was made of the finest dark wood. Following Ash around, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Everything was so beautiful with such intricate attention to even the smallest details. The fireplace in the main room was a masterpiece composed of gray stones and an enormous mantelpiece.
“I’ve done some redecorating since taking ownership. I had Nicholaeff Architecture design a more modern look for the kitchen and bathrooms. You should see the 400 bottle wine cave downstairs! It’s amazing if I do say so myself.”
“It’s absolutely beautiful.” I gazed in awe around me. The upscale Manhattan penthouse I’d been raised in was a shack by comparison.
Insatiable Series Box Set Page 14
