by Abby Gordon
“That is so romantic,” sighed Mary.
“You think he loves her?” Anna wondered.
“He just wants her in his bed,” sneered Andy. “All she’s good for.”
“You—” Pippa swirled and glared at him.
“Yes?” He gave her knowing, mocking look.
“Pippa, can you take these trays to each station?” Tom interrupted.
“Sure, Tom,” she replied, turning and picking up the stack of round platters.
In New York City, Tony stared at the TV screen in his office. Beside him, Bronson Franklin pounded the coffee table. Tony hit rewind a few times. Sean’s expression was intent, glaring at the reporters, solicitous and worried for Jessica.
“Johnson’s there,” muttered Bronson. “He’s one of the fuckers that drove the family insane. He really went after Heather.”
“Look at Sean’s face,” Tony pointed out, pausing the replay. “He’s fucking pissed.”
“He should be,” commented his friend. “Look at the glare he gave Johnson.”
“Look at the way he’s holding her.”
“Has he kept up the martial arts he learned a few years ago?” Bronson wondered.
“Pretty much,” Tony replied.
“I’m surprised he didn’t whip out a few moves on these assholes. Especially Johnson,” came the growl as they watched the burly man shove past two bodyguards.
Nodding, Tony glanced at Bronson. Nearly a decade ago, the Franklins had been at the center of a maelstrom for several months when Bronson’s older cousin Grant’s ex-girlfriend had accused him of abandoning her when she told him she was pregnant. Grant had maintained that it wasn’t his and insisted on a paternity test as soon as it could be safely performed. The woman had balked and finally dropped her claims.
The way he held her, cradling her, quick steps to the car, holding her as he got in. Tony clicked a button and the screen went live.
“Fucking brilliant,” Bronson said, leaning back.
“Holy fuck,” Tony breathed, forearms on his thighs as he took a few deep breaths. “He did it. He really did it.”
“I didn’t think he had it in him,” Bron admitted, patting Tony’s back. “But by God, it was absolutely fucking perfect. Straight out of some romantic movie.”
“Yeah? And when’s the last time you saw one of those?” Tony laughed.
“Last spring when Sean’s movie came out,” he answered. “There were a few explosions.”
“I think he got those added just for you.”
“See what a pal he is?”
Tony’s phone rang and he grinned, showing the screen to Bronson, who laughed. It was the studio behind Sean’s upcoming movie.
“So, Maury, what do you think of that bit of heroic romanticism?” Winking at Bron, he waited for the executive producer’s response.
“I would have preferred it a few days ago, but, damn, the man is good. All we needed was a suit of armor and a glass carriage.”
“Next time,” Tony promised, grinning broadly.
“No next time needed. This was perfect. Especially since a new script just landed on my desk. How do you think Sean would feel about playing an actual knight in shining armor?”
“I think you need to send him the script and ask him,” Tony replied, winking at Bronson.
“We’ll do that.”
Tapping the screen, Tony and Bronson high-fived each other.
“Thank God,” Tony breathed. “I didn’t know what to do with him.”
“Better call Javick and let him know.”
“Maury probably already did, but good idea. He’s been crazier than I have the past week.”
Tony tapped his phone and pulled up Sean’s agent. Javick confirmed that Maury had called him and would be sending the script. The relief in the man’s voice was palpable, as was his excitement when Tony mentioned the songs Sean had told him about.
“He said he’d done a song a day since London, love songs of a sort.”
“Oh, perfect,” Javick was practically swooning. “We’ve been after him to do love songs. But an entire album? What does he have down there? Guitar? Piano? Mm, scaled back, minimal, focused on the words, on the mood,” he murmured. “Oh, that will be perfect. And if he completes a few more, we can get it polished up and out in late January for Valentine’s Day.”
“Sounds good. And I’m having the European press come to London, since he’s not going anywhere else.”
“See if you can talk him into a couple more cities. It would be good to do considering the past week. Especially Paris. This clip and him in the city of romance would be perfect to run with.”
“I’ll do that. Talk to you later.”
Bronson got to his feet. “We need to celebrate. Let’s go to the club.”
Wide, pale blue eyes came to mind along with the sound of her breath. Tony shook his head. “No, I think I’ll actually get some sleep tonight.”
“That’s the point,” laughed Bronson, clapping him on the shoulder. “Come on, man. You’ve been tense all week. Work it out with a submissive and you’ll sleep like a baby.”
“Not this time.”
Bronson frowned, studying him. “You’ve got someone in mind?”
“Yeah,” Tony admitted. “And if I’m not careful, I could do to her what Sean did to Jessica. Her name is Pippa, and she’s a waitress at the nightclub at the Lincoln.”
“Damn, maybe I need to go to the Lincoln,” Bronson commented. “Is she that good?”
“I haven’t had her yet.”
“But you’re so hung up on her that you don’t want to go to the club? You’re serious?”
Tony pulled up her picture on his phone and held it out. “That’s her. You tell me.”
The lawyer took the phone and sighed. “Very nice. All right, man. But, I don’t get it. You haven’t been with her yet. You don’t know if she’s submissive material, and you know damn well that you can’t give up being a Dom.”
“I actually think she’s the perfect submissive material. At least for me.”
“Well, all right.” Bronson returned the phone. “Good luck getting her.”
“Thanks, Bron. I think I might need a bit of luck.”
Chapter Four
“What are you doing?” Tom hissed. “Andy’s getting ticked.”
“The man’s become a bloody octopus,” Pippa replied, glancing around for the manager. “I’m either going to kill him or get a lawyer and sue for harassment.”
“And be out of a job?” Tom asked. “You sure you want that?”
“Tom, some of his ‘extra security’ people have been following me. They said he told them to and that Sir Lincoln knows and approves. Andy told Sir Lincoln it was because of the incident the other night. His ‘men’ follow me home and to the market.” Pippa shivered. “I feel like I’m being stalked, like prey for a hunt.”
“Bloody hell,” muttered the bartender, shaking his head. “I don’t know what to tell you about that, girl. But you know that suing the likes of him won’t work.”
“I have to do something,” she fretted. “It’s gotten worse the past three days since Jessica left with Sean.”
“Call in sick a few days,” Tom suggested. “Let things cool off a bit.”
“And have them outside my building the way the paps were with Jess?” Pippa shook her head. “At least the paps weren’t going to physically hurt her.”
“You think they would hurt you?” Tom sounded skeptical.
“I don’t think any of that lot were choir boys, Tom. Do you?”
“No, no, I don’t,” he admitted with a reluctant nod.
“I’ll think of something,” she vowed. “I’ll think of something.”
“Think later, scoot now,” Tom said, his gaze going beyond her. “Here he comes.”
Pippa grabbed her tray of drinks and slipped away. Serving the guests and gathering the empty glasses, she realized what she could do. And grinned. It was perfect. She just needed to work out a few
details.
Three days later, Pippa packed carefully—toiletries, a couple bra and panty sets, her favorite leotard and tights, three tees, a pair of corduroys, her nightshirt, and socks. Those and her laptop filled her backpack. She didn’t dare take a bigger case, so she pulled on her favorite sweater. And every bit of cash she had. She glanced around her flat, wondering if she dared take anything else. Her gaze fell on a picture of her family. Swallowing, she turned her back on it and walked out.
It was fitting, she thought. And closed that bloody circle.
Getting on her usual bus, she saw the pair sitting in the blue car. Straining her neck as the bus went around the corner, she watched the car pull in behind the double-decker. Tense, she faced forward, counting off the stops. She had to get the timing right or her plan wouldn’t work. After four stops, the man two seats in front of her hit the stop tape and she stood, moving forward but staying in the middle of the crowd. As soon as the door opened, she and several others got off. Ducking low, she prayed no one saw her. The next bus pulled up and she slipped on, crouching in the seat, peeking out the window. With a smile, she saw the blue car follow her original bus. Relieved, she relaxed, a little. It wouldn’t take them long to realize she wasn’t on it. She figured she had maybe an hour, two if she was lucky. She had to get completely off the streets and not leave a trail.
****
“Jessica, good to see you again,” Tony greeted the young woman as she and Sean joined him and Adam in the waiting car.
“Good to see you, Tony,” she smiled, then raised her hand to cover a yawn. “Oh, sorry about that.”
Smiling in sympathy, he gave Sean a dour look. “You couldn’t have just come into LaGuardia.”
“And make things easy for you?” The actor laughed, holding Jessica close to him.
“God forbid.”
“LaGuardia?” Jessica wondered.
“I’m heading off to London to finalize his promo spots,” Tony explained. “He and Maisie will only be at the London premiere, but he’ll be doing interviews with reporters from all over Europe.” He glanced at Sean. “Think about doing one or two more, please.”
“I’ll think about it,” conceded Sean.
“What hotel are we staying at? I’m assuming not the Lincoln.”
“That would be correct,” Sean agreed, his voice hard. “I don’t want Jessica anywhere near that place. Especially around Andy.”
Lifting his head from his tablet, Adam spoke up. “I’ve made reservations according to Sean’s call two days ago at the Armitage. I had no idea you’d be going over earlier, Tony, so I didn’t make any for you until next week.”
“I can manage…”
“Stay at my flat,” Jessica suggested quickly, pulling a key ring from her brown leather tote. Swiftly, she worked a key free and handed it to him. “There’s no fresh food,” she glanced at Sean, who grinned back at her, “but the market is just at the corner. And,” she retrieved her phone, tapped for a moment, then looked up at him with a smile. “I’ve emailed Mr. Jenkins, the landlord, that you’ll be there. That way he doesn’t call the police thinking someone broke in.”
“Thank you,” Tony replied, glancing at Sean. “Now, see, this is how you treat people.”
“And spoil you?” Sean grinned. “’Sides, you’d think someone had taken over my body.”
“So very true,” agreed Tony.
Jessica quickly fell asleep in Sean’s arms and the three men got down to business. The car got through the slow-moving traffic for departures and they dropped him off. Checking in, Tony went through security and to the first-class lounge. And realized he had missed the perfect chance to get Pippa’s number or address. He knew who he could contact, probably convince for a monetary compensation to give it to him, but that thought churned his stomach.
“Dammit, Tony. You’re a fucking idiot.”
****
Still frustrated, Tony made two trips up the stairs to get his luggage and then the bags of food up to Jessica’s flat.
“How have the Brits not discovered elevators yet?” he groused, finding the key he’d put in his wallet.
Putting his garment bag and carry-on that doubled as his briefcase just inside the door, he looped his hands through all the bags and carried them in. Closing the door with his elbow, he turned and frowned. In the far left corner, behind a closed door, light shone through the cracks and water was running. A glance around the small room showed him that someone was clearly living there—an open laptop on the coffee table, a rolled up yoga mat and two blocks against the entertainment console. But no lights on.
Don’t want anyone to know you’re here, is that it?
The water stopped and Tony quickly carried the bags across the room to the kitchen area. Setting them on the counter, he turned. Sean hadn’t been exaggerating about how small it was. Removing his heavy coat, he laid it on the back of the couch and turned to face whomever came out of the bathroom.
As he waited, he frowned. Was that humming? Singing? His cock hardened as he recognized the voice. Pippa. Pippa is here. And with an early winter storm predicted to shut down London for a couple days. Tony smiled wickedly. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Jessica had to have known, and given him her key on purpose. Standing behind the bar that night, she’d probably seen every interaction between him and Pippa. The woman was good, he decided. Sean was going to have his hands full with her.
The door opened and Pippa walked out, wearing a thick white cotton robe, her damp blonde hair combed and loose. Her eyes popped wide when she saw him and she stumbled back into the bathroom.
Tony darted forward and kept her from closing the door the most expedient way—with his foot to keep his hand from being smashed. He pushed it open and she backed up nervously against the shower stall. Steam swirled around them.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said softly. “What are you doing here, Pippa? And so quiet? You don’t want anyone to know you’re here, do you?”
“Jessica knows,” she said quickly. “I have a key and called her as soon as I got here.”
“Why are you here?”
“I can’t stay at my place.” Her arms wrapped around her middle as her voice shook. He could see how frightened she was. “Andy’s thugs are following me…”
“What the fuck?” Tony got pissed and was in front of her in a heartbeat. His hands caught her upper arms. “He’s threatening you?”
“You saw what he was like that night,” Pippa whispered, terrified eyes meeting his. “After Sean carried Jessica out of here, Andy used that as an excuse to convince Sir Lincoln to hire extra security for some of us. Because the paps were waiting outside that night.” He nodded. “I didn’t want it, but no one would listen to me.”
“What’s happened?”
Pippa couldn’t believe this. The man of her dreams appeared before her and she was fresh out of the shower wearing only a bathrobe and not a scrap of makeup.
“Just little things,” she started. “The looks, the sneers, the whispers. Just a feeling in my gut that I don’t want to be alone with any of them. And at work, Andy’s always finding a reason to pat my shoulder and ‘miss’ so that he ‘accidently’ touches my breast. Or he’ll…” She shivered. “It’s done. Jessica said I could stay here while I job searched.”
“Job searched? How is that going?” he asked.
“Can we talk somewhere besides the bathroom?”
Slowly Tony nodded and left the small steamy room.
“I need to put the food away,” he told her.
Hanging up the towel, she followed him to the kitchen where he’d started emptying the bags on the counter. Pippa reached into another.
“There’s a storm coming in a few hours,” he commented, opening the fridge.
“I was about to go to market,” she added, putting away the cans.
“We might need some more,” Tony observed.
The casualness of the conversation, along with her awareness of him, had her nerves stretched. T
ony reached over her and studied the contents of the cupboard, then put away the meat.
“Or maybe not,” he shrugged. “I think we’ve enough for a few days.”
“We?” Pippa managed, not daring to turn around and face him. He’d said “we” twice.
He didn’t give her a choice about looking at him. His hands on her shoulders turned her, then his fingers went under her chin and tilted her face up. She closed her eyes.
“You have any idea how many times the past two weeks I’ve wished I’d done what Sean did,” Tony whispered. “Wished I’d come up with a way to get you to my bedroom, sweet Venus?”
“No,” she breathed and felt relief rush through her. He’d thought of her. Still wanted her.
“I lost count after a hundred. Even when I realized we were going to be back here in London for the premiere, I damned myself for letting the opportunity pass by. I could close my eyes and see the look in your eyes when my thumb brushed your lips.”
His thumb did it again and her breath caught.
“And you did just that,” he added with satisfaction. “I saw the expression on your face when the boys brought Deedee in. I’m sorry for that, Pippa. I thought I could pass that moment off and focus on another woman. I was wrong. Did you notice I moved her quickly?”
Nodding, she squeezed her eyes shut. That had meant a lot. That and the expression of disgust on his face when Deedee had tried to crawl back on his lap. Tony moved closer, pressing her against the counter and she could feel the warmth of his body.
“Then, as we were leaving, do you remember that, my pocket Venus?”
“Yes,” whispered Pippa. “You said you were too old for me.”
“Did you know I could see down the front of your dress?” he said quietly. “I could see your soft breasts. They gleamed, all perfect and round. I could see the way they swelled up, and I’d swear I saw a bit of soft pink. A pebbly pink as if your nipple was tightening. Were you aroused, Venus? Did my being so close to you get that kind of reaction from you?”
