The British Billionaire Bachelor

by Maggie Carpenter

  “Important?” she asked.

  “Every call is important, and you,” he declared, standing up and pulling her to her feet, “go and get changed.”

  Grabbing the back of the bathrobe he lifted it quickly, landing a sound swat.

  “OW!” she cried.

  “That is for distracting me,” he grinned.

  “I’m going, I’m going,” she giggled, and scurried from the room.

  Entering her bedroom to dress she realized she needed to make a trip home to pick up some clothes, but stopped mid-thought. She didn’t know if she’d be back at the suite again that night or not, and she didn’t want to assume anything.

  Feeling a bit perplexed, she dressed in the clothes he had bought her, applied her makeup and brushed her hair. Thinking about the day ahead, she made a mental note to call Susan and ask if Sean’s office had yet assigned a new realtor to finish the deal.

  When she walked back into the living room he was still on the phone, but smiled his greeting and ended the call abruptly.

  “Before we head off to breakfast,” he stated warmly, walking towards her, “let me see your handbag.”

  Puzzled, she handed him her large, designer bag, the bag that had given Sean Harrington the first blow on the head, and watched him place a white envelope inside.

  “What...?”

  “You have an errand to run. I don’t know what you have planned for your day but there is something you must do for me.”

  “Okay,” she said, wondering if he needed some office supplies, or some minor thing that Cecil was too busy to tend to.

  “Please go to a high-end lingerie boutique and find a very glossy, slippery, silky something. It can be anything, a slip, a night gown, anything like that, but it must have very thin shoulder straps, drop to mid-thigh, and be a size too big. I want it to float around your body.”

  Belle felt the familiar crimson flush rise up from her neck, and couldn’t help but move from foot-to-foot under his penetrating gaze.

  “Then you must have a manicure and pedicure, and use polish to match the color of the lingerie,” he continued, “and find a lipstick that matches as well.”

  She could feel herself grow wet with every murmured instruction. Awash with an unexpected need to sit down, she braced herself, waiting for him to finish.

  “When you’ve done that, you’re to go to a tack store and buy three riding crops, each one different of course, and they must be black or brown, and I want you back here by six. Any questions?”

  “Um–no–but here–I don’t want this,” she said as firmly as she could manage, pulling the envelope out of her bag and thrusting it at him.

  She looked up at his cool blue eyes, and felt a little shiver as a slight frown sank into his forehead.

  “Excuse me?” he said, his voice low and even.

  “I’ll just buy the stuff myself,” she replied, doing her best to stand up to the warning glare now emanating from below his furrowed brow.

  “Belle–please put that envelope into your purse and do as you’re told.”

  “I–uh–I mean–it feels...”

  Reaching forward he took the envelope and shoved it firmly back in her bag, then taking her by the hand led her across to the couch, pulling her down with him as he sat.

  “Are you going to...” she was about to say–spank me–but before she had a chance to finish the sentence, his lips were against hers, devouring her mouth, his hands moving across the smooth, silky softness of her cashmere sweater, lightly pinching her nipples.

  “Ohhhh,” she moaned. “Simon...”

  “Yes, sweet girl?” he crooned, his hot breath in her ear. “What...?”

  “It feels soooo good,” she moaned, feeling goose bumps as his teeth lightly nipped at her neck.

  “Hmmm, it does,” he murmured, moving his hand between her legs, running his fingers across the milky skin of her inner thighs.

  Pushing her legs apart, he deftly slipped his fingers under her skirt and up to the crotch of her panties to press against her clit. She slithered down the couch to offer greater access, moaning as he continued the fingering dance. His free hand lifted her sweater, and his mouth dropped down, enveloping her breast just as he had done in the limousine. She cried out in heated happiness, then groaned in disappointment as his lips moved away, traveling up to her neck.

  “You love this don’t you my dear?” he crooned in her ear.

  “Yes, yes,” she breathed.

  “You want to please me don’t you?”

  “Yes, yes,” she repeated. “So much.”

  “Then you must do as I say. It’s really quite simple,” he continued. “Will you obey me? Will you buy that which I have asked you to. No more nonsense?”

  “Ooohhhh, yes, Sir,” she moaned.

  “Good girl. In that case you will be rewarded when you return,” he finished, sitting up and withdrawing his hand from between her legs, “and now you’ll be able to focus.”

  “I don’t understand,” she panted, leaning her head back as she attempted to catch her breath. “Why wouldn’t I be able to focus?”

  “It would be a bit distracting to shop with a stinging, well-spanked backside,” he replied, staring directly at her.

  “Oh,” she gulped.

  “I have many ways to help you see reason, and if I absolutely must spank you to get you there, I will. Fortunately for you, today I did not have to.”

  Oh my gosh. He really is the real deal, she thought. It’s not just a game. He’s really a Dom...

  “Now,” he announced, breaking into her thoughts, “we must get some breakfast. I don’t know about you but I’m famished.”

  “Starving,” she admitted. “Totally starving.”

  He helped her to her feet, and as if on cue his phone rang.

  “Cecil, hello. Yes, been busy,” he said into the receiver, winking at her. “I’m heading to the dining room now. I’m having breakfast with Belle. You’re welcome to join us if you wish, but remember we can’t use cell phones there. Yes, that’s fine.”

  Dropping his phone back in his pocket, he turned and smiled at her.

  “Ready?”

  “I am, but Simon, my car. It’s still at the house.”

  “No, it’s not. I had it brought back here.”

  “You’re amazing,” she grinned.

  “Not really,” he replied, taking her hand and heading for the door. “Oh–by the way, I have hired Joseph Cardinelli. His first task is to find me an office building.”

  “Wow. That’s great,” she beamed. “Besides the fact that he punched Sean Harrington in the nose, I like him. He’s a neat guy.”

  “Yes, he’s neat, as you put it, and smart and very savvy,” Simon answered, closing the door behind them. “I think he’ll be a real asset.”

  Taking her hand, he headed out the door, and they followed the meandering path to the dining room.

  Later that morning, after a scrumptious breakfast, still aglow from the night before and her new beginning with Simon, Belle drove her Lexus from the hotel, twisting and turning down the winding road towards Sunset Blvd. There was a lot to do, and she decided her first stop would be home. She’d pack a small bag, just enough for a couple of days. If her stay with Simon continued she could always return for more.

  Simon Sinclair. What a force to be reckoned with. Just thinking about him made her squirm in her seat. Justin seemed like a fumbling amateur in comparison, and while she didn’t wish to be unfair, Simon was just so much more...she searched for the word ...it wasn’t worldly, though it was fitting, and it wasn’t charismatic, though he was certainly that...

  “Accomplished,” she blurted out, surprising herself. “Of course. He’s completely and brilliantly accomplished.”

  So consumed had she been with her search for ‘the word’, she found herself pulling into her garage with no memory of the drive. It felt a little strange, stepping back inside her abode. The coffee cup she’d so hurriedly left in the sink was still waiting
to be washed, and it seemed like a month ago that she’d left it there; the air had a musty smell and the place was a little messy, which took her by surprise. Generally she wasn’t an untidy person.

  Moving around she opened the windows to let in some air, then checked under the mail slot at her front door to see what had been awaiting her return. Carrying the envelopes into the living room she sat at her desk, throwing away the junk, opening the bills, and then she saw it, the familiar scrawl of her mother’s writing.

  “When are you going to learn to email?” she said out loud.

  The fact that her very smart mother refused to join the 21st century made her a bit crazy, and the last thing Belle wanted to do was read the letter. She already knew it contained nothing but news about Lucinda’s latest and greatest achievements, or glowing reports about Josephine’s baby, probably something along the lines that the toddler was a prodigy, already inventing some brilliant new widget that would make the family a fortune.

  “Not right now, thank you,” she stated emphatically, roughly it shoving into her bag.

  Pulling her checkbook from the desk drawer, she quickly wrote the few checks needed, stuffed them into their envelopes and stamped them ready for mailing.

  She paused, thinking about the tantalizing errand ahead of her, and the store she would visit to buy the negligee. It was certainly expensive. Even on sale the bras and panties were beyond her budget, but much of their stock came from Paris and the quality was undeniable. She shivered in delight, then focused back on the jobs at hand, one of which was to call Susan Caldwell. Not surprisingly she had to leave a message, then she hurried to her room to pack.

  Finally ready to leave, she closed the windows and locked the patio doors. Scanning her home she wished she had the inclination to tidy up and perhaps even vacuum, but all she could think about was getting to the lingerie boutique.

  While Belle was setting about her tasks, Simon was inundated with his usual phone calls and emails. Over the years he had recruited diligent and conscientious managers, and while he was excellent at delegating, he was still the King of his Kingdom, and as such was constantly steering the ship.

  Late in the morning he received a call he had not expected.

  “Scott Morris for you, Mr. Sinclair,” Cecil informed him.

  “Who is Scott Morris?” Simon asked.

  He had an excellent memory for names and it rang no bells.

  “The manager of Sean Harrington’s office,” Cecil said, wincing a little when he spoke the evil man’s name.

  “Ah. Thank you.”

  Simon picked up the phone on his desk.

  “This is Simon Sinclair,” he announced.

  “Mr. Sinclair, Scott Morris here. I just wanted to let you know I have assigned a new agent to represent the sellers of the house you’re buying. It’s been a bit difficult. They’re in France, and with the time difference and...”

  “I’m sure,” Simon responded quickly, cutting him off. “I’m very familiar with the challenges involved in dealing internationally.”

  “Ah, yes, quite,” Morris stammered.

  Simon could feel the man’s embarrassment, and a wry grin curled the corners of his mouth.

  “Well, anyway,” Morris continued, “the new agent is a woman. Her name is Harriett Steinberg. I’m sure you’ll find her proficient and more than willing to do whatever she can to...”

  “I’m sure,” Simon repeated, “but Mr. Morris, I’m glad you called. I have another matter to discuss with you.”

  “Yes, Mr. Sinclair. I’m happy to help any way I can.”

  “It seems to me that Ms. Somers has been put through a tremendous ordeal. I find it extraordinary that you could work so closely with someone for years, and not be aware of his true character, or at least have some inkling of it.”

  “He was always a...”

  “I understand another young woman has come forward,” Simon interrupted, continuing his intimidation, instinctively feeling the man cowering on the other end of the phone.

  “Ah, yes, she has.”

  “I do wish to complete the purchase of the house, but I have a condition,” Simon stated firmly.

  “I see, and what would that be, Mr. Sinclair?”

  Simon could feel the man sweating. A multimillion dollar sale didn’t walk in the door every day, especially one that didn’t involve a loan.

  “I understand the full commission is six percent, with your office splitting that fifty-fifty with Ms. Somers’ company. I think Ms. Somers should receive an additional 1% from your side to compensate for all she’s been through.”

  Simon waited. He could hear the man’s brain working overtime, but it didn’t take Scott Morris long to reach the obvious and only conclusion.

  “I understand your feelings, Mr. Sinclair, and I think it’s only fair. I’ll have to talk to my higher-ups of course, but I think that can be arranged.”

  “Excellent. I’ll speak to Ms. Caldwell.”

  “Very well. Thank you, and Mr. Sinclair, I believe the minor repairs at the house will be completed tomorrow.”

  “Speak to you another time, Mr. Morris. Thank you for calling.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Sinclair.”

  Simon placed the receiver back on the phone and smiled to himself, then asked Cecil to get Susan Caldwell on the phone. The conversation went as planned, and Susan Caldwell agreed that Belle would receive the extra 1% without any deductions from the company.

  “Just make sure she doesn’t know this was initiated by me,” he insisted. “I don’t want or need the credit.”

  “Mr. Sinclair, I find your generosity of spirit most refreshing. Clearly Belle has made an excellent impression.”

  “She has. She is one of the best real estate agents I’ve worked with, and believe me, I’ve worked with many,” Simon replied.

  “I’m not surprised to hear you say that, Mr. Sinclair. She is one of our shining stars. I think she has all the qualities to make it to the very top of our profession, and this sale is going to go a long way to propel her forward.”

  “To the top, did you say?” Simon asked.

  “Oh yes. She is very talented”

  “I see. Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Caldwell. Goodbye for now.”

  “Goodbye, Mr. Sinclair.”

  Placing the receiver back on its cradle, he walked to the small table that held a decanter of coffee and poured himself a cup.

  All the way to the top. Do I have the right to ask her to leave such a promising career? To put it on hold to come to London?

  Cecil’s voice announcing another call pulled him away from his pondering, but even as he picked up the receiver, he knew his concerns would continue to swirl around in his head like a pesky mosquito at midnight.

  When Belle returned late that afternoon she found the suite empty, but a note had been left on her bed. Dropping her purchases she ripped it open and unfolded the piece of paper.

  Be waiting in my room at 6 pm, dressed in the article of clothing you purchased, standing with your eyes closed. Place the three crops on my bed.

  Belle glanced at her watch. A little after 5:15. She had plenty of time to take a long hot bubble bath and get ready. Moving into the bathroom she started her tub, sprinkling in the hotel’s bubble bath crystals. She was about to undress when she heard the telltale sound of her cell phone. The caller ID told her it was Susan Caldwell.

  “Susan–hello,” she answered.

  “Hello, Belle. I have some news. First, Harriettt Steinberg has replaced Sean Harrington.”

  “That’s great. I really like Harriett. Quite honestly I feel as if I’ve been completely out of the loop these last two days. I’m ready to get back to work.”

  “Not to worry,” her boss reassured her. “I’ve been handling the paperwork myself and everything has been going smoothly. The repairs will be finished tomorrow so if you want to do the inspection you can. Harriett will be there around 3.”

  “Yes,” Belle said quickly. “Def
initely.”

  “There’s one more thing. Scott Morris called. He’s giving up one percent of the commission and it’s going straight to you, we won’t be deducting anything. It will be like a bonus, cash in your pocket. It’s to compensate you for the horrendous time you had.”

  “What?” Belle exclaimed. “Seriously? That’s incredible. Why would Scott do such a thing?”

  “Well, it’s possible he’s trying to avoid a lawsuit. The fact is, Belle, Sean has had somewhat of a reputation for a while, and it could be argued that Scott Morris was not diligent in his position as Manager.”

  “Oh–I see. I guess it does kind of make sense,” Belle replied. “Regardless, that’s wonderful news. Thanks, Susan. I’ll call Harriett tomorrow and let her know I’ll meet her up there.”

  “You sound good. I’m glad you’re back to work. We’ve missed you and everyone’s been very concerned.”

  Belle felt herself blush. She hadn’t considered that she would become the subject of gossip, and the thought made her very uncomfortable.

  “Okay, thank you. Now I must run. Back in touch soon,” Belle promised, and ended the call.

  Disrobing slowly, she thought about the next office meeting. Everyone would be very conciliatory and kind, but she wished she could have kept the whole thing under wraps. The last thing she wanted was to be the center of all that attention, and the inevitable looks and whispers that would surely follow.

  Shaking off the unpleasant thoughts, she sank gratefully into the relaxing, warm, aromatic foamy water, losing herself in anticipation of the evening ahead.

  When Simon entered his suite a few minutes after six, his member was already happily standing at attention. Though he had been busy throughout the day, as the afternoon wore on he had found it increasingly difficult not to think about Belle. He could imagine her cloaked in something sexy and sultry, waiting for him, no doubt filled with erotic suspense.

  Simon was a quality nut. He had a passion for buying expensive and beautiful things. If they did not live up to their price tag however, he would come down on the retailer with both barrels blazing, but when the item proved to be all it promised, he would feel a great sense of satisfaction, and sometimes even jubilation.