The Power of Sunday Rose

by Angelina J. Windsor

  “I know that you and Adam have a business arrangement. He’s paying for a week of your time. I want to do the same, only I’ll pay you double—to warm my bed. What do you say, sweetheart? I’m twice the man Adam is.”

  Shocked, I stepped back from the counter; the bills fluttering like confetti to litter the floor around us.

  “Don’t worry—your secret is safe with me. I just want to buy some of your ‘time’ too.”

  “The answer is no, a definite no.”

  My voice rose higher on the last no and he gave me a warning look before bending down and picking up the forgotten bills.

  “You might want to reconsider your position. You’re in a precarious situation, Miss Stark. If word of this arrangement leaks out, it wouldn’t look good for Adam or his so-called green company with its high moral tone, now would it—the high-and-mighty Adam paying for a hooker to satisfy his, well, let’s call them needs.”

  He handed me the money, which I accepted as I was frozen in shock.

  “There, was that so hard to take my money?”

  He smirked at me and I went from freezing to boiling, wanted to smack it right off his disgusting face. I’m not used to a murderous rage invading me. I bit my lip hard and a metallic taste filled my mouth. The cost of not lashing out.

  “Everything all right?” Adam walked up to me and put his arm around me, gave me a searching look.

  “Sunday just won money and I was helping her collect it,” George said.

  My face was frozen in place. Fortunately he walked away with a shrug and Adam and I were left alone.

  “Are you feeling well?” he asked, looking concerned.

  “Yes, no, just a little dizzy,” I said. It was true.

  “Come,” he commanded and sat me down at an empty table for two. He left my side for a few seconds and brought back a glass of water. “Drink,” he said.

  I held the glass between shaking fingers and swallowed a large gulp.

  “Better?”

  “Yes, thanks.” I managed a weak smile and finished the water.

  I wanted to change the subject so I asked the obvious, “How are things going with Jonathon?”

  “Good,” he grunted. “I’m more concerned about you. Did George say anything to upset you?”

  I frowned. No good could come of my sharing the information with Adam. And why did George come to the conclusion? Did I give off that much of a sexual vibe? Well, I guess we hadn’t done a very good job of trying to be professional around our guests. We were too hot for each other to be as careful as we should be. But to think he thought I was for sale to the highest bidder. I shuddered, feeling slimed. I forced myself back to the present. The highs and lows of life were fucking with me.

  “No, he helped me win some money.” I gazed down at the soiled bills. “Here, please give the money away. It wasn’t my money that won it and I have no right to it.” Not to mention I did not want to touch it again.

  “Certainly. We can use it to tip the staff tonight. Would you like a glass of champagne?”

  “Please.” I smiled weakly at Adam, feeling more relaxed, knowing he was in my corner. My protective nature reasserted itself. I felt a change come over me as I realized a profound truth. I wouldn’t let anyone harm Adam or his company. But how I was going to arrange that was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. A Latin phrase jumped to mind. Aut viam inveniam aut faciam. I will either find a way or make one.

  And really, all I had to do was keep quiet, certain now that George wouldn’t be sharing his information with anyone else. That had to be pure bluster, right? I desperately tried to convince myself. His company had as much to lose if Adam went ballistic over his slimy dealings with me and their business endeavors fell apart.

  Adam invited me to try my hand at some other games. It was kind of fun, though I wouldn’t be making a habit of it. Fly-fishing sounded better. Having Adam all to myself. That sounded best of all.

  On the short drive back to Dragonstone, my mind retied itself in knots, worried about George spilling the beans to others—but he wasn’t that foolish, was he? And worrying if Adam found out, all hell would break loose and business could quite possibly be lost if he reacted the way I thought he might. Tomorrow was Friday and the final night scheduled for this week’s business events. I just had to hang on a little longer. Adam was one of the good guys. He’d more than proved it to me tonight with his ex. Only a little more time and we would be home free and Adam would never be the wiser on what had transpired this evening. And I would get over it in time. Reminder to self—don’t mix business with pleasure in the future.

  “What is it, beautiful? You’ve gone completely white,” Adam asked with concern as he pulled my hands into his comforting, warm ones. “And your hands are like ice. We need to get you into bed right away.”

  The limo pulled up in front of Dragonstone and he helped me out before James could come around. Soon we were in my bedroom and Adam was undressing me down to my underwear. He tore off his outer clothes and joined me under the covers, pulling me in tight to his body in his efforts to warm me. My teeth were chattering loudly. It was a few minutes before his body heat transferred to me. Foolish to make so much of George’s horrible suggestion. After all, I was not going to go there. Having Adam near just made me want to could conquer the world.

  “Did something upset you tonight?”

  I hesitated. Nothing good could come of it. But was it a lie of admission?

  “I want to know,” he persisted. “I think what most often gets between people is the lack of words and the lack of trust. I need you to tell me things, Sunday. I want this thing—whatever this is—to work out between us. Not just for this week or tonight, but for many nights to come. And if we’re to stand a chance, you need to be completely honest with me. What happened tonight to upset you?”

  I took a deep breath. It helped that we were spooning and I could not see his face.

  “I can’t accept the money.”

  “What are you talking about? I’ve taken up a week of your time. It’s only fair that I pay you. And it’s not that much money,” he protested, obviously startled by my words.

  “You are paying me and we’re sleeping together and everybody knows it. It makes me look like some kind of call girl.”

  “Is that what this is all about? Someone’s said something to upset you about my paying for your time? And you are far from a call girl. As far as any woman can get.” He hugged me tightly and asked in a terse tone that suggested refusing to answer was not an option, “Who upset you? Tell me their name.”

  I took a deep breath. In for a pinch, in for a pound, came to mind, an old expression my grandma had a fondness for. I wanted complete trust between us too.

  “George knows that we’re going to bed together. He accused me of being a hostess and an escort. He threatened to expose it if I didn’t spend a week with him at double what you’re paying me. But it’s pure conjecture. He’s just being a sleazebag and really can’t do any harm. I see that now. His company has as much to lose as anyone’s if he goes public with it.” The words sounded worse than I expected.

  What I didn’t expect was the explosion.

  “Fuck! That makes me mad as hell!” Adam pulled away from me and punched the bedclothes.

  “Please, I don’t want to be the cause of any problems with your business dealings this week. I can handle myself. Can’t we pretend this didn’t happen?” I shouldn’t have told him. The thing I was being paid to do wasn’t panning out like it should. Keeping my mouth shut should have been part of the deal, I realized too late. It superseded the truth.

  He turned very quiet and I could see his mind churning with the information. Then his face cleared and he gave me a very charming smile, gathering me to his chest and hugging me tight.

  “I have the solution,” he announced smugly.

  “Spill it,” I insisted. How had he gone from angry to fine in sixty seconds flat? My psychology teacher would really want to know.

/>   “No, I’m not ready to share,” he teased, his eyes alight with good humor. “I’ll send you a new fantasy instead.”

  I lightly punched his biceps, relieved the storm had passed, but very surprised he had changed his thinking so easily. It was just a little too out there to be believed. But a man who could do that was riding high in my opinion. Most men would have stayed angry for hours and spoiled what precious little time we had left together.

  “What about the one you sent me earlier today? We haven’t even gotten to that one yet!”

  “Well, if you’re feeling better, I’m game.” His hands ran enticingly down my body and I squirmed with instant need.

  “You’re not in jeans at the moment, but I think I can improvise.” I grinned at him as I slid seductively down his body to tug at his boxers. He didn’t stop me but smiled wickedly as he lay back against the pillows and let me do with him as I wished. And I wished…

  I kissed the smooth velvety tip and licked off the salty pre-cum glistening at the perfectly carved slit in the plump end. Taking the silky head into my mouth, I sucked him fully into my mouth and right to the back of my throat. He tasted amazing, a combination of sweet and salty. I increased my tempo, sucking up and down the rigid shaft until it begin to pulsate. Groans escaped him. I fondled his firm balls and he fisted my hair with his hands, holding me against him. He gave one last lustful moan and ejaculated into my waiting mouth. Heaven. I was filled with lust. I needed more, so much more. I ached for sweet release.

  He rested a moment and then grasped my thighs and pulled them wide apart in one smooth erotic motion. Incredibly sinful, the way he applied himself to my pussy. His masterful tongue lapped away at my inner lips. He used his fingers to pull the lips farther apart and applied himself to my clit, nibbling and circling it with his tongue. So fucking good. My climax hit hard and high, thundered through me, centered on my throbbing clit. I bucked right off the bed, captured. Holy shit! He was very, very good at eating my pussy.

  As I was trying to regain control of my limbs, Adam hauled me up and turned me over, ready for more. His rigid cock stormed into me, pushing all the way up inside me, rubbing against my G-spot and enticing it to respond. I moaned. My orgasm began to build again. He slammed into me over and over, his hand reaching around to rub rhythmically against my clit, making it grow stiff with excitement. My body soaked his with my juices. He thrust himself deeper, in and out, sending me spiraling higher and higher.

  Our bodies slapped noisily together. I rode him as hard as he rode me. I shuddered as another climax thundered through me. My yearning fulfilled, I slumped down, Adam on top of me. It took a long, long time for the aftershocks to cease.

  “So, was it good for you too?” he deadpanned and I was too tired to even give him a light punch on the arm. I could only grin and whisper a definite, “Yes!”

  “I want to surprise you with my next fantasy,” he began and I interrupted.

  “I thought it was my turn?” I also thought he had a lot more important things to worry about.

  “No, I want to send you the real thing this time. Exactly what I want to have happen between us. Think you’re up to it, beautiful? Can you play it exactly by the book? Trust me?”

  “Duh!” I smirked. I was surprised we were still going to play the fantasy game, but happy about it nevertheless. It meant he was feeling better about what had happened tonight. Though my stress had ratcheted down a few notches and I no longer obsessed about Allison returning to Adam’s life, still, it hovered in the back of my mind that the Russo brothers could yet cause Adam and his company grief if George wasn’t as smart as he thought he was.

  Like he had read my mind, he said, “You let me worry about George Russo, beautiful.”

  And then he took my mind away from all things Russo with another round of fun and fantasy. I finally fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning, pulled in tight against Adam’s chest, exactly where I wanted to be.

  Chapter Thirteen

  We breakfasted together at seven.

  “Tonight’s the fantasy ball. I’ll be home at six to help you prepare,” he said before kissing me goodbye.

  My final day at Dragonstone. Would I ever be back here? I drifted from room to room, unable to settle down this morning. I called Julie from the conservatory where I finally landed mid-morning. I should have been working out in the fully furnished gym, but my heart wasn’t in it.

  “Sunday!” Julie picked up right away which I took as a good sign. “How are you?” She sounded breathless.

  “What have you been up to? You sound like you’ve been working out.”

  “Well, yes and no. I’ve been running round this morning—getting this and that done,” she answered, rather mysteriously for Julie.

  “Well, well. I’m kind of at a loose end—”

  “Oops, sorry, someone’s knocking at the door. No time to talk. Can I call you later?”

  “Um, sure. Okay.”

  She hung up and I was left staring at the dead cell phone. That was strange. Feeling even more discombobulated, I drifted back toward the kitchen to check in with Martha.

  “Sunday, my gosh, I’ve got a lot to do this morning!” Martha seemed flustered. She added to my sense of unease. Martha did not seem the type.

  “Can I help?”

  “Oh no.” She was firm but relented as she looked up from working on transferring some freshly baked trays of puff pastry to wire racks and saw my need. “Okay, if you really want to?”

  “I do. I need to keep my hands busy. And I’m sure you could use help with our fancy costume ball being tonight.”

  “Yes, this is going to be some night!” She sounded excited and then bit her lip. “That reminds me. Adam left word that you have an appointment at Prestige Spa this afternoon for the works, to prepare for the party. James is to take you over at twelve thirty.”

  “Fine, funny Adam forgot to tell me. I can help you for an hour then,” I said as I checked the kitchen clock.

  “Sure, you can fill these pastries. The filling’s in the refrigerator.”

  “Okay.” I collected the bowl filled with the golden cream and worked alongside Martha until all two hundred pastries were stuffed and deposited on trays in the walk-in cooler. The space was packed with all sorts of delicacies for the party.

  “Mind if I have one?” I asked, my mouth watering. Cream puffs were a personal favorite. My grandmother’s specialty.

  “Heavens no! Go right ahead and then you’d better get your things together. James will be out front in fifteen minutes.”

  I bit into the crunchy, sweet and cream-laden puff and rolled my eyes in delight. “My tummy thanks you, Martha. Exactly like my grandmother used to make.”

  She gave me a look of satisfaction. “Good, a taste of home is always appreciated.”

  I finished my treat and hurried to my room to retrieve my purse. I hoped the spa people were throwing in a massage—anything to relieve the tension in my muscles.

  * * * * *

  The afternoon flew by. I got my massage and the whole works. Polished and fluffed from head to toe by five o’clock. I glanced in the mirror on the dressing room wall as I changed back into my clothes in the spa’s dressing room. Sweet. I was looking my best.

  I rode back to the mansion a whole lot less stressed but that was before George Russo came to mind. He would be in attendance tonight and be expecting an answer to his disgusting proposition.

  I walked into the hall.

  And stopped dead in my tracks. It was as if a fairyland had come to life. Sheer fabric in rainbow hues streamed from the vaulted ceiling in waterfalls of cascading ribbons that twisted and turned and obscured the edges of the room. Thousands of tiny white lights backlit the fabric. Magical. I wondered how a team had managed it in just a few hours. Money of course. Once more the chasm that separated Adam’s and my life was starkly visible. I sighed. But couldn’t help enjoying the beauty of the room and thinking how wonderful it would be to dance the night away with my
dream guy under the starlit canopy.

  “Ah, Miss Stark, I’m here to help you prepare for the ball.” A man who looked kind of familiar walked toward me across the large room, apparently excited to see me.

  “Um, sure,” I said, surprised I needed help. Of course, I hadn’t seen what I was wearing yet as the costume store had been supposed to deliver the gown this afternoon. A last-minute change, apparently, according to Adam who’d texted me about it during my spa visit. I was over the moon about wearing a fancy ball gown even though I had been dressed to the nines all week long. One more selfie in the new dress and this would be my last. That thought was deflating. Remember who you are, Sunday Rose Stark. You are not Cinderella.

  “How long have you and Mr. Drake known each other?” the young designer who called himself “just Rudolph” asked as he chatted me up on the way to my bedroom.

  “Not long, just this week,” I replied truthfully.

  “Oh that’s just sooooo romantic!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together in glee.

  What’s so romantic? My working for Adam? Rudolph was hard to figure if he thought working as a hostess this week qualified as romantic. Maybe falling in love would qualify.

  I stopped dead in my tracks for the second time that day. Between the word love and the first glimpse of what awaited me in my bedroom. Oh—My—God. Rudolph bumped into me from behind.

  “What the fuck!” I exclaimed in the midst of my muddled quandary. “Oops, sorry, Rudolph!”

  “It is magnificent, is it not?” He rushed ahead of me to touch the off-white satin gown embroidered with thousands of tiny crystals and pearls. It hung on the outside of the closet door, probably because it wouldn’t fit within. Magnificent hardly cut it. My breath hitched.

  The gown was strapless and featured a corset-style bodice that cinched in tight at the waist before flowing into the most amazing full skirt. It actually brought to mind one word. Cinderella. Was that who I was dressing like tonight? I had forgotten to ask in all that had gone on in the last twenty-four hours.