by Angela Blake
Danielle shook her head, “Yes, well.”
“What did the boy do to piss you off?” Thomas demanded.
“He outbid me on something I had my eye on. And then he gifted it to me.”
She deliberately skipped some of the finer details.
Thomas studied her carefully, before clicking his cane on the wooden floor, “Well, good. I want you two to get to know each other. He doesn’t have any friends here. And I want him to settle in.” And not leave him.
Danielle heard what he didn’t say and her heart ached for the elderly man.
“That’s nice,” Danielle finished, lamely. She ran a hand through her hair, “I can be friends with him.”
“He’s a good boy.” Thomas insisted.
“He’s your grandson. I’m expecting him to be a playboy, to be more precise.” Danielle said dryly.
Thomas looked smug, “Yes, well, attractiveness and charm runs in this family. Now,” he leaned forward, “I dropped by to take you to lunch with me. Sean will drop by as well.”
When she winced, Thomas gave her a pleading look that was very uncharacteristic of him, “Give him a chance, Danielle.”
Danielle sighed and got up to grab her coat.
***
The restaurant was a fancy, high end one.
As, Danielle engaged Thomas in conversation, she saw him glancing at his watch and the hope in his eyes fading.
When twenty minutes passed and Sean didn’t show up, Danielle gestured towards a server.
To Thomas, she said, gently, “Maybe he’s busy today. We can always go some other day. For now, I want to enjoy a nice lunch with you. It’s been two weeks since we went out for lunch. I missed you.”
That was apparently the right thing to say, because he nodded, but the tautness left his shoulders.
They were still looking over the menu, when a rich Irish accent beckoned Thomas, “Grandfather!”
Sean strode towards the table, a black trench coat that screamed class and money, hanging off his arm.
“I’m terribly sorry. There was a sudden meeting with the East Rye Group, and I want something they have, so I had to play nice. Miss Walter.”
He had a hand on Thomas’s shoulder and his body language indicated a level of protectiveness that Danielle wouldn’t have assumed from him.
Her lips curved in a polite small, “How nice of you to finally join us, Sean. Please call me Danielle.”
Sean found himself amused at the blatant disapproval in her voice.
“Yes, well. I could hardly avoid a lunch date with you, now could I, Danielle? How did you like my gift?”
His smile was easy, but his eyes sharp, watchful.
Danielle sipped at her drink before replying, “It was…thoughtful.”
Sean found his lips quivering in suppressed mirth at her casual remark, as if she was discussing a piece of furniture and not an item worth thousands of dollars.
Danielle Walter had class down to an art. Even now, as she sat across from him, her white blouse exuded elegance and that black pencil skirt that hugged her hips jealously, showcased her cool attitude.
Sean leaned back and studied her as his grandfather engaged her in conversation. There was something about how she presented herself. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he really wanted to see her lose all that composure. He wanted to see her on his sheets, writhing in pleasure, as she lost herself in him.
He would like nothing better than to have her begging for his cock and then some.
After all, he was a Dom, and all that cool composure that she wore like a second skin was something that needed to be aired out every once in a while.
He wondered what little Miss Walter would think of his sexual kink.
A small smile touched his lips as he imagined her in his bed, her pale skin wearing his marks. Now, wouldn’t that be a beautiful sight.
Danielle shivered and looked up to see Sean watching her with barely hidden heat in his eyes, like he wanted to eat her up. Meeting those eyes, her own dropped when she found herself unable to handle the dominance in his.
Scowling down at her food, she stabbed a piece of the steak rather vehemently, annoyed that she was letting him get to her.
Thomas glanced at her, “You don’t like the steak?”
“What?” Danielle blinked, and then looked down at her plate at the mutilation of her beautiful steak, and pursed her lips, “I’m just not very hungry today.”
“Nonsense. Finish your food; don’t play with it.” The conversation turned to his grandson, “Who are you taking with you to the Gala?”
Danielle looked up, knowing which event was being discussed. After all, her aunt was throwing the Society Gala this year. All the hotshots showed up.
She smiled, secretly.
She already had a plan to get out of it.
And it was rock solid.
Absolutely foolproof.
“I was hoping to ask Danielle, as it is.”
“What? No.”
“Excuse me?” Thomas stared at her, a little taken aback by her outburst, and she quickly retraced her steps.
“I meant that as much as I appreciate the invitation, I have some office work to handle that evening. Meetings and like. It just wouldn’t be possible for –“
“I’m sure your friend can handle that.” The older man interrupted, blinking. “Surely you do not plan to miss this year’s Gala as well?”
“I’m not- Jenny is-“
“Ah, Jenny; that’s her name. She handles all your meetings when you’re not there, anyway. You told me she is very capable.”
Danielle blamed all these lunch meetings with Thomas. He extracted details out of her like the older matrons at these Galas did.
Gritting her teeth, she smiled, “I can probably ask her.”
“Well, call her now and ask her.”
Danielle stared at him and then looked at the smirking man, sitting across from her. Sighing, she picked up her phone and dialed Jenny’s number.
It took all of five minutes to wrap up the conversation, and by the end of it, Thomas looked entirely too pleased with himself.
She showed Sean her teeth, “I will see you at the Gala then.”
He smiled at her, “Let’s make a date out of it. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
Once again, the decision had been taken out of her hands, and Danielle studied the two of them, “Is this what is going to happen from now on? I’m going to be tag teamed by the two of you?”
Thomas smirked, “I’m an old man, just trying to put two young and attractive people together. Can you blame me?”
“You’re a meddler, Mr. Arton. Don’t use that old man story with me.”
He shrugged and asked for the server to bring the dessert menu. Sean waved the waiter off, asking for the bill instead.
“The doctor told you not to indulge your sweet tooth.” He chastised the older man.
Scowling, Thomas took out his wallet, but Sean had already handed his credit card to the server.
Danielle protested, but he cut her off with a look, “This was my treat. Call it penance for showing up late.”
Not wanting to get into an argument, Danielle checked the time on her watch, and stood up, “Well, then. I should be leaving. I have a meeting within the next half hour and I can’t be late.”
Sean stood up, “I’ll walk you out.”
“Oh, there’s no need.” Danielle waved him off, wanting to spend as minimal of time with him as possible. There was something about the way he watched her, like a predator would. And the more time she spent with him, the more off balance he threw her.
His beautiful lips curved, and he held out his hand, “I was raised with more manners than I can count. I’ll escort you out.”
She could say nothing as she was steered gently to the door after saying her goodbyes to Thomas.
Once out of the restaurant, she turned to say goodbye to him
, only to find him watching her with a gleam in his eyes. Taking her hand, he touched his lips to the back of it, “I’m looking forward to Sunday evening.”
The jolt of electricity that surged through her at his touch, left her a little breathless, but she nodded, “I’ll try to feel the same way about it.”
Watching him throw his head back and laugh at her snide comment, she found her attraction to him growing, and wished she could find some way of squelching it.
“You are oddly endearing,” He murmured to her, helping her into her car. “Until Sunday then.”
Watching her leave, he fingered the three small golden eggs that rested in the pocket of his pants.
They have been recovered from the treasure combs of one of the Pharaohs in Egypt, but unlike all the rest of the treasures that had been found, these were the ones that held the richest history. Blood, deceit, betrayal. These tiny gold eggs had been at the root of some of the harshest legends in Egypt.
And now they would rest in his private museum, never again to be seen by another eye.
He smiled, the brilliance of it making a woman passing by catch her breath.
As he strolled back to where his grandfather waited, he thought about the ‘meeting’ that had delayed him.
More like three security alarms and a bullet proof glass shield.
“Ready to go?” He asked.
His grandfather studied him and the gestured towards the seat, “Sit down.”
Smiling, he did as asked, “Am I in trouble?”
“What are you up to, boy?”
Sean widened his eyes, innocently, “What do you mean?”
Thomas eyed him, “I mean that every other woman I introduce you to, you don’t even glance at, but when it comes to my Danielle, you look at her like a wolf.”
His Danielle?
His grandfather was attached to the young woman. He knew the elderly man regarded her as his family and was very protective where she was concerned. It didn’t take a genius to know that.
“She’s interesting.” He shrugged.
“Don’t hurt her,” His grandfather warned. “God knows she’s been hurt enough.”
“What?”
But Thomas refused to elaborate on that, instead, changing the subject, “How long do you intend to stay here, in New York?”
Sean shrugged, and leaned back in his seat, hands settling in his pockets as he played with his new acquirements, “Most of my businesses in Ireland don’t need me there to keep a constant check. And I am working on a new project here which needs me to be present. So, for quite a while. Plus, I have a house here as well.”
“Did your mother ever talk about me?” Thomas asked, a soft quiver in his voice.
Sean’s jaw tightened, “She looked for you. And by the time she found you, the cancer had barely left anything in her. She just gave me the letter, the one I showed you.”
His grandfather blinked rapidly to push back his helpless tears as he slowly got up, “I wish Janice had told me. I could have – I would have liked to-“
Sean saw in front of him a man broken by the grief as he struggled to bring himself back and his chest tightened, “Grandmother was a harsh woman. I think she knew that you would have liked to have had a child. It was her way of punishing you.”
His smile was sad as he helped the man up, “You would have loved Mom.”
Thomas gripped his hand so tight that Sean feared that his blood flow had been stopped, “I’ll look out for you, okay? You’re my Rina’s boy.”
“I know, Gramps. I know.”
No matter what anyone thought, his affection for this man, who had come rushing to say goodbye to the daughter he had never known at just a phone call, grew every day. He had fulfilled his mother’s dying wish.
He had seen the older man cry when she finally died. Even though he had not known her, the fact that the chance had been stolen away from him had broken Thomas Arton in a way that nobody could understand.
So when he had asked Sean to come back with him, Sean had said yes.
He was a billionaire in his own right. He had a multitude of successful businesses under his belt. He was known as ‘The Fixer’ in most of the companies he had acquired at their bankruptcy and then rebuilt from scratch.
He really liked that nickname.
It fed his ego.
He liked challenges. Running through the streets of Dublin, when his mother and he had been living in a shelter, his nimble fingers had often brought home the bread. But now, those days were past him.
His one gamble in his late teens had struck gold and his clever mind had built an entire empire within a decade.
“I’ll see you at dinner,” he told his grandfather.
His own house was a half hour drive and entering the huge mansion he called a house, he made his way into the wine cellar. The room was dimly lit, but he didn’t need light to show him the way.
He knew exactly where he was going.
Pushing aside a tapestry revealed a door, painted the same colour as the cemented wall. There was a small lock, barely visible.
Taking out a silver key, he put it in, twisted, and the pushed the door open.
It revealed a brightly lit room, filled with treasures he had stolen over the years.
The thrill was what drove away his boredom. He enjoyed outwitting those poor rich fools that had no respect for the priceless artifacts that they had held on to. Nobody knew this room even existed and he had gone the extra mile to create legal documents for each and every item in the room.
A satisfied smile on his face, he carefully wiped the golden eggs clean and then placed them in a glass case.
Taking a step back, he admired them before his eyes moved to the other door, across the room.
An image of a naked Danielle came to mind again and he smirked.
He would love to bring her to his playroom.
Of course, he would use the other door so that she didn’t come across his private collection, but having her on his bed, screaming his name as he dragged out her orgasm would be a nice moment.
He started walking towards the exit, his long coat flapping at his knees.
Having her on the marble floor of his museum would be even better.
Chapter Four
“Jenny, do you have those diamond earrings I lent you last week?”
Danielle walked into the bedroom, clad in red underwear.
Her friend’s distorted voice came from her phone’s speaker, “You lend me all your stuff. Wait, let me check.”
“Can you hurry it up? I’m already late. And I don’t want to answer the door wearing only my panties.”
“You have magnificent boobs; nothing to be ashamed of.”
Danielle crossed her arms over her boobs, “Stop it. Perv.”
“Please, bitch. My boobs can take your boobs, any day.”
Danielle sighed and wondered if she would ruin her makeup if she slammed her head against the wall, “Earrings. Please. You can trash talk me later.”
“I can’t find – Oh hello,” Jenny suddenly sounded delighted, “I didn’t know I had these. Oh my God, Danielle, I’m sending you a picture of these. They’re like tiny cow earrings. So cute! I didn’t even know I had them!”
“Jenny!”
“Right!” Came the chastised tone, “Earrings. Yes. I have them.”
Danielle scowled, “Meaning you can’t get them to me in time.”
“Wear the pearl ones. They look fabulous with that black thing.”
“I’m wearing the sapphire dress. And this is a gala. And that means glitter.”
A short silence.
“Why don’t you wear the ones your grandmother left you? They’re beautiful.”
Danielle glanced towards the inbuilt wall safe and pursed her lips. Walking over to it, she opened the safe and took out the set.
Her heart pounded at the glittering set that was worth millions.
&nbs
p; She had never worn it after her grandmother had passed away.
Sighing, she set it aside, she started wiggling into the dress.
Hearing the buzzer of the front door, she moved towards it, trying to zip herself up and failing.
When it buzzed again, she gave up and just opened the door.
A bouquet of Calla Lilies blocked her view of the holder, till they were lowered and Sean looked at her.
“I’m not too early, am I?” He asked, knowing he was not.
“Hi. No. Come in.”
He handed the flowers to her, “These are for you. They signify beauty and magnificence. I couldn’t help myself.”
“Thank you.” Danielle stared at the flowers.
When was the last time someone had given her flowers?
“Do you need some time?” He asked her, looking at her dress, “You look devastatingly beautiful though so I shouldn’t imagine you do.”
The reluctant smile that forced itself on her lips had her shaking her head, “A few more minutes would be nice. Would you mind?” She bit her lip and turned around, revealing her bare back to him.
Sean swallowed at the smooth curve of her back and wanted to run his hand over it and then cup the bottom, but he took a step forward, smoothly, “Of course.”
However, he took his time zipping it up, and they both knew it because her cheeks were flushed when she stepped away.
However, that didn’t mean she was flustered by any means.
“Make yourself at home.”
Oh, he intended to.
As she walked into her bedroom and closed the door, Sean wondered at her choice of habitation. She could have afforded any place, knowing her net worth, but she chose this small apartment.
It wasn’t uncomfortably tiny, but compared to what he knew of most of the women he had met, they lived in huge condos, with three floors.
His eyes fell on the small bronze statue that stood on her mantel, as the centerpiece, alone. A woman with a young child wrapped around her knee, looking up at her.
He stuck his hands in his pockets and studied it with the intensity that only a collector knew.
