Stroked by my Dad's Best FriendA Billionaire Secret Baby Romance

by Natasha Spencer

  The man gave her a courtly bow, turned, and walked back into his limo which drove off more slowly. As there was no injured or dead body to gawk at, the other cars had already done the same, but some pedestrians were upset.

  “He just drove off? Just like that!?” squawked an indignant female voice in a New Jersey accent. “Sure you’re ok, honey?”

  Amanda simply nodded as she tried to make her way back to work. The small crowd parted for her, but the Asian couple were harder to get rid of. Perhaps feeling responsible for her near miss, they insisted on walking her to her office. It was only when staff took her in hand that the couple finally let her go – but only after they’d both given her a badly needed hug.

  *****

  Arnaud heaved a sigh of relief. It had taken all of that morning, but the first part of the deal had gone through despite the fact that he’d arrived more than half an hour late. It was that Carl Decker, fellow. The man was a pig who practically finished the food all by himself. And since Decker was in charge... Arnaud made a note to give Marie and Olivie a bonus.

  “Marie? Cancel the rest of my appointments for the day. I’m heading up to the roof deck.”

  Marie heaved her own sigh of relief as she watched Arnaud leave the room. Once the door clicked shut behind him, she slowly counted to a hundred then called reception on the ground floor.

  “Front desk,” came the disinterested female voice on the other end.

  “It’s Marie. The bird flies north.”

  Down at the front desk, the woman heaved an audible sigh then passed the information on. The boss was in a very good mood now. No more tip-toeing around the building. At least for today. Word spread quickly, but this time, quietly.

  Up on the roof deck, Arnaud gazed at the city around him. With the most important part of his day over, he allowed himself to think about what had happened that morning.

  Thank goodness he hadn’t killed anyone. More specifically, thank goodness Guillaume hadn’t killed anyone, as his lawyer insisted. Then he grinned. That redhead had quite a nice ass as she bent over the bridge’s railing. Nice tits, too, as she heaved and panted before him, come to think of it.

  But what really seared itself into his brain were her eyes. Green. They were a deep green that turned pale when the sun shone on them – like the precious Chinese jade ornaments his mother loved to collect. Splashes of light brown marred the perfection of that green, radiating outward from dark gray irises surrounding the deepest black at the center of her eyes.

  Arnaud felt a little annoyed with himself. He should at least have asked the woman for her name.

  Chapter 2

  The Muséum National d'Histoire Naturelle, or MNHN to everyone else, is a marvel of architecture set in another marvel of landscape gardening. But it’s not just a museum. It’s also a park and a college – part of the prestigious Sorbonne Universities group.

  It’s also where Amanda worked in the Ecology and Biodiversity Management department, which she enjoyed. But not today.

  “I’m a scientist!” she hissed as she fussed with her hair.

  “More like a glorified gardener, you mean,” Savitri replied as she fussed with her sari.

  Despite receiving government grants and private donations, all was not well with the MNHN. The continuing effects of the Global Economic Crisis and the Eurozone Crisis following the upcoming Brexit meant that the MNHN needed more money. Hence the fundraising gala. And as an employee, Amanda was required to attend.

  “I still have so much work to do, and here I am...”

  “Here we are,” Savitri corrected. “Listen, luv. It’s part of the job, yeah? Hobnobbing with the rich and undeserving, an’ all. Besides, when was the last time you relaxed, hey? And think of it this way – it’s all for a good cause.”

  Amanda sighed. Savitri had been her best friend since high school and the person who helped her get this job, so she owed her. Big time. But while her Anglo-Indian friend was a natural at socializing, Amanda was not. She was happier dealing with plants, soil, and bugs than she was with people, so the party thing was never her shtick.

  Worse, they’d be meeting the top of the food chain and Amanda didn’t know how to deal with that sort. Crepes, canapes, and champagne? She was more of the take out curry and pizza with a side order of Coke, sort of girl.

  Savitri flashed her an excited grin. “Ready?”

  Amanda simply took a deep breath as the other woman pulled her out of the ladies’ room and dragged her into the Grand Gallery of Evolution. Despite herself, she was impressed. The cavernous room with three sets of balustrades on three sides rose magnificently around them like the interior of some fantasy palace.

  For tonight, the central exhibits had been moved to make way for the caterers and guests. It felt like a fairy tale and she was there to witness fairies granting three blessings to a newborn baby girl. All that was missing now was the evil witch who... she recognized one of the guests and nearly choked as she froze in awe.

  “Oh my god! That’s... Sav, that’s...”

  Her friend snorted. “Her!? She’s a has-been, luv. Hasn’t released a new album in years. Don’t even know why she’s here. I hear her third husband’s really cleaned her out with the latest divorce; meaning we won’t get much from her, if at all. Now mingle!”

  Amanda panicked as Savitri let her go and vanished in the throng. She stood there looking for a face she recognized, but the few colleagues she knew by name looked busy socializing and none met her gaze.

  “Champagne, madame?”

  “Why thank you.” She automatically reached for the glass. “How kind of...” She squinted at the man, wondering why he seemed so familiar. He was dressed much better than the other servers milling about.

  “I’m glad to see you’re doing well, madame...?”

  “Oh. Amanda.” She was taken aback by his familiar tone. “Amanda Sorensen. I’m sorry, but have we met, monsieur...?”

  “Arnaud. Arnaud du Lac,” he said with a meaningful pause as if he expected her to know him. It wasn’t just his expectant look that threw her off, it was also his strange accent. It was definitely French, but with an undercurrent of an upper class British accent. When she still looked puzzled, he added, “We met... aah... about two weeks ago?”

  She shook her head, wondering why he seemed embarrassed.

  He gave her a cheeky grin. “I nearly ran over you.”

  Her mind clicked. Milliseconds later, she was choking on her champagne and spluttered. To her horror, she’d sprayed some of the expensive liquid on Mr. GQ’s formal jacket. Worse, trying to stop choking while trying to apologize at the same time only made things worse.

  He put a hand on her shoulder to steady her, his smile giving way to concern as her throat tried a yoga maneuver to get rid of enough liquid so she could get enough air. To make things worse, she was attracting a crowd again.

  “Amanda!” Savitri came out of nowhere to give her a few good whacks on her back.

  “Gaah!” she wheezed. “I’m oh (cough-cough) kay (gasp!), really.”

  “What’s the matter, luv? Ooh, you spilled stuff all over your bodice, poor thing,” the Anglo-Indian woman crooned. “Well, hello there, Mister...?”

  “Arnaud,” he replied distractedly, still looking at Amanda.

  “Why am I such a klutz?" she wheezed.

  Disappointed that the choking woman wasn’t going to die, the crowd broke off into tiny clusters and babbling filled the great hall, once more. Amanda was grateful at her return to anonymity, but felt sure they were giving her surreptitious looks, nonetheless. And the front of her green dress was wet.

  “Perhaps you need some... air?” Arnaud offered.

  Savitri looked at him with a slight, knowing smile. “Why, yes! Yes! You need some air, luv. Why don’t you let Arnold here take you out to the garden? Go on, then. Some fresh air is just what you need. You’ll take care of her, won’t you, Anthony?”

  “It’s Arnaud.”

  “Sure. Whatever. No
w go on then, you two.” She made shooing gestures at them. “Garden’s that-a-way.”

  Savitri always took charge, so the two made their way out of the gallery and into the perfectly manicured gardens that were such a tourist draw.

  “I’m sorry about my friend.” Amanda chuckled, feeling better not just because of the fresh air, but also at being away from a crowd. The fact that he was hot as hell, helped.

  “And I’m sorry I nearly ran you over. What were you doing running across the road like that?”

  “What were you doing speeding?”

  “Touché, madame,” he grinned. “Touché! But I wasn’t speeding. It was my driver.”

  “Who wouldn’t have been speeding if you didn’t order him to?”

  He shrugged. “I’m a businessman. Places to go and people to see, yes? And you? What do you do, mada...”

  “It’s Amanda, remember? I work here. As a botanist. I’m with the MNHN in the conservation department.”

  “Mmm... so you’re the one asking for money?”

  She laughed. “I guess you could say that. I hope it was all worth it?”

  “The party?”

  “No. The speeding.”

  Arnaud laughed. He was enjoying the repartee. Very few people ever spoke with him, only to him, so this was a delight. And what a remarkable transformation she’d gone through with her makeup and formal dress. Pity it covered her cleavage, though.

  Not sure how to reply, since he didn’t like to mix business with pleasure, he gestured to the garden. “I haven’t been here in a while even though my office is close. Perhaps you can show me?”

  It was exactly the right thing to say. Amanda was proud of her work and believed that the more people understood how valuable and fragile the ecosystem was, the better they’d appreciate the planet’s biodiversity. Besides, tonight’s gala was a fundraiser and she had to do her part. Or so she told herself. It had nothing to do with the fact that the man was super-hot. Really!

  “I can’t possibly show you everything, of course...”

  “Pity,” he replied with a teasing smile.

  Her heart skipped a beat. Was he flirting with her? “But I’d like to show you an area I like to visit. It’s this way. Have you ever seen the Wallaby Enclosure?”

  “I don’t even know what a wallaby is.”

  “Well, it’s time you learned. This way, please.”

  They walked quietly on the packed gravel road hemmed in by tall trees. Except for the sound of passing cars beyond the gated compound, they might as well have been out in the country on some grand estate.

  Amanda felt self-conscious as Arnaud quietly followed her. He was such a bulky figure despite his formal wear. Nor did his courteous manners belie the sheer alpha male persona he exuded. Plus he really had great hair!

  “I don’t see anything,” Arnaud said, not sounding at all disappointed when they finally arrived at an area enclosed by a chain-link fence.

  “Well, they don’t perform on command. Wallabies are marsupials related to the kangaroo family; only they’re a lot smaller. They only exist in Australia and New Guinea, so these plants you see had to be imported especially for them.”

  “Like you?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You were imported here from Britain for them?”

  “Not exactly. But the ones you see... well, ok. So you can’t see them now. But the ones here are on the endangered list.”

  “Why?”

  “Over development. Deforestation. And they’re fussy breeders. If conditions aren’t right...”

  “What conditions?” he teasingly asked.

  Amanda ignored the tone, beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea. “Well, I’m a botanist, not a zoologist. But all flora and fauna are interdependent.”

  “Would you have dinner with me?”

  “What!? I... I was giving you a lecture about wallabies.”

  “But you’re a zoologist. And I’m hungry.”

  She stiffened at the emphasis he put on that last word. “Correction: I’m a botanist.”

  “I stand corrected. And I want to make amends for nearly running you over.”

  She arched her brows. “You’re driver did that. So shouldn’t he be the one to make amends?”

  “But as you said, I was the one who ordered him to drive fast.”

  Amanda knew it was a bad idea, but she suddenly felt hungry, as well. And not just for food. Aloud, however, all she said was, “Touché, sir. Touché!”

  “It’s Arnaud, remember?”

  *****

  Dinner was great. The restaurant was fantastic. Unfortunately, the waitress was another matter entirely. The impudent hussy kept brushing up against Arnaud’s arms and shoulders while completely ignoring Amanda. Fortunately, he made up for it by being the perfect, attentive gentlemen to her. Even better, he completely ignored the waitress.

  He then insisted on giving Amanda a guided tour of Paris. She told herself it was a terrible idea, even as she got into the limo. In her defense, she’d never been in one and wanted to know what it was like. Also in her defense was the fact that he did insist.

  Despite the darkness of the interior, the streets were so brilliantly lit that she could see his face perfectly. So when she asked him about a building they were driving by and he leaned toward her to get a better look, she couldn’t resist staring at his lips. They were so full they looked bruised despite the stiffness of his upper lip. It gave him a sort of permanent-looking pout. She couldn’t help wondering what it would feel like to be kissed by such lips.

  “Uh-huh,” Amanda nodded, mesmerized by how deep his voice was and how it reverberated out of his chest, ricocheted over her, and made her feel all fluttery inside. “I see,” she continued when he paused.

  “... because in truth, Mickey Mouse founded Paris.”

  “I see,” she replied. It took her a while to realize he was chuckling.

  “Wait, what?” she spluttered, trying to focus on what he was saying. “What’s so funny?”

  “You haven’t heard a word I said!”

  “What was that you said about Mickey Mouse?”

  Arnaud went from a mild chuckle to a full-blown guffaw. Gone was the calm, composed, dignified gentleman who’d played the perfect host at the restaurant. He was laughing so hard his face was turning red as he thumped the seat repeatedly with his fists. Seeing her puzzled look only made him laugh harder.

  She smiled reluctantly, realizing she’d been the victim of a joke. But his hysterical laughter was infectious so she started laughing, as well.

  “Wait a minute!” she gasped, trying to regain her breath. “What are we laughing about again?”

  Arnaud chuckled weakly as he drew breath. “I’ve been talking and you just sat there going, ‘I see.’ Then I made stuff up and you kept on doing it. But the last straw was Mickey Mouse. I assure you, he wasn’t the founder of Paris.”

  “I see,” she replied calmly.

  Arnaud gave her a sharp look. She fought back a grin. That set them off again. It took them long minutes to reach the gasping stage, followed by outbursts of weak chuckles.

  “Enough, please,” she wheezed. “I haven’t laughed like this in ages.”

  “Me too. And it’s been a while since someone completely ignored me,” he finished with a teasing smile.

  “I wasn’t ignoring you!”

  “Then how come you missed the Mickey Mouse bit, eh?”

  Bullocks, she thought. And busted. How the devil do I explain?

  She didn’t have to. Arnaud leaned forward and rubbed a fingertip gently across her lips. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she could feel the heat of him. She could also smell his need – a musky, salty, tang that cut through the scent of his expensive cologne.

  “I was distracted by your lips,” she admitted shakily as his finger lazily traced its way down her throat.

  “Ah. Then allow me to address that...”

  They were soft as they rubbed against her
lips. It had been so long. Amanda leaned forward, wanting more of them, but he pulled away and grasped her head gently in both hands. He smiled teasingly at her, letting her know that he was in charge.

  She moaned as his lips touched hers, once more. But it wasn’t a kiss. He gently rubbed his against hers: lightly, softly, as if he was afraid of hurting her. Amanda held his shoulders to steady herself as he prolonged the pre-kiss.

  Just as it became unbearable, his mouth finally claimed hers more firmly. She moaned as his tongue slipped wetly between her teeth. Amanda sucked on it gently then spread her legs as his hand moved up her leg and found its way beneath her dress.

  She was about to rip off her panties, but Arnaud broke off the kiss, grabbed her wrist and held it firmly against the seat beside her. Wagging a finger at her with a mock stern look, he reached down once more and found his way beneath her dress. Amanda wanted him to kiss her again, but he easily kept her pinned to the back of her seat as he leaned over her.

  She gasped when his fingers honed in on the wet fabric of her underwear. Still watching her face intently with a teasing grin, he gently rubbed his thumb over her engorged clit. Amanda closed her eyes and leaned back as she spread her legs wider, hooking her right leg over his left one to give him full access to her privates. She wished she’d worn silken ones instead of cotton, but it felt no less good.

  After a seeming eternity, Arnaud’s mouth claimed hers again. His tongue probed her mouth just as his middle finger finally slipped beneath her underwear. Amanda gasped. The touch of his bare fingers on her wet pussy felt so good!

  She grabbed his head, sucking his tongue as he fucked her opening with his finger. She loved the way his palm rubbed her rosebud as his thick finger moved slowly, deeper inside her. She arched her back, moving against his hand as he met her thrusts by going in even deeper.

  It had been so long that she no longer cared about restraint. Amanda fumbled against his zipper, wanting more than just his tongue in her mouth and his hand between his legs.

  Arnaud pulled away, grinning at her need as he breathed heavily. “Madame,” he said with a chuckle. “This is my tour, remember?”