Covet (Splendor Book 1)

by Janet Nissenson

  ‘Probably anxious as hell to get her back home and into his bed,’ thought Ian darkly. ‘God knows if she was mine I’d want to lock her inside my room for days at a time.’

  But as he continued to observe the married couple – with extreme discretion, of course – it didn’t seem that they were overtly affectionate with each other. Peter in particular never made an attempt to touch his wife, neither holding her hand or putting an arm around her shoulders. Occasionally Tessa would place her hand lightly on his arm to get his attention, and Ian could swear that Peter had actually flinched at the contact once or twice. He noticed that Peter drank only water, while Tessa had nursed the same glass of chardonnay throughout the entire meal. Both of them seemed more than a little uncomfortable in the presence of Tessa’s co-workers and their guests, especially since most of the group looked to be drinking rather heavily.

  ‘She should be here with me,’ he thought rather sullenly. “Here as my date, seated by my side, acting as my hostess this evening. And wearing a gown that’s far more worthy of her beauty.”

  Not, of course, that Tessa didn’t look as lovely as ever this evening. The dress she wore had a sleeveless, wrapover top of cream lace, and a black fitted skirt that ended a few inches above the knee. The short hem showed off more of her long, shapely legs than any of her office dresses or skirts did, but the effect was somewhat spoiled by the plain, flat black shoes. Presumably she’d worn the unflattering footwear so that she wouldn’t be even taller than her husband, who was already an inch or two shorter than she was. And while the dress showcased her tempting curves to their best advantage, there was little doubt that the garment had been inexpensive and was nowhere near as elegant or formal as most of the other women’s gowns this evening.

  At the office she often wore her hair pulled back into a neat coil or a thick braid, but tonight the thick blonde curls tumbled about her shoulders and more than halfway down her back in glorious abundance. She wore a bit more makeup than usual, but still had that fresh-faced glow that only the very young – or the genetically blessed – possessed. Her cheeks were flushed, likely from the wine, and her full, kissable mouth glossed over in a shiny mocha shade. Ian longed to wrap a thick strand of that beautiful hair around his fist, enough so that he could tug her head back and then claim that lush mouth in a deep, possessive kiss.

  He shifted a bit awkwardly in his seat, very much aware of his growing arousal as he continued to sneak furtive peeks at the girl who haunted his dreams far too frequently. He finished his glass of wine, thought about pouring another, and instead motioned a waiter over to order a brandy. Ian was already well over the amount of alcohol he normally permitted himself to consume in one evening – as disciplined about that as he was about every other aspect of his life – and he was grateful that he’d arranged for his chauffeur to drive him home this evening.

  His date – or more accurately, his escort – this evening was Kimberly Beaumont, a local news anchor. Kim was a few years older than he was, striking and stylish as opposed to classically beautiful. Her reddish blonde hair was cut in a short, feathery style, her makeup expertly applied, and her tall, slender frame clothed in a sophisticated evening gown of jade green silk. Kim was extremely witty and engaging, very much at ease in social situations like tonight, and Ian enjoyed her company very much. She was also very happily married to a close friend and associate of his – a man who had been battling Parkinson’s disease for several years now.

  Ian had met Charlie Beaumont soon after moving to San Francisco, and taken an instant liking to the affable, jovial older man. He and Charlie belonged to the same private club, and had golfed together a few times before Charlie’s disease had progressed too far along. They were both on the board of several local charitable organizations, and Charlie and Kim were fellow patrons of the arts. Over the last six months Charlie had become confined to a wheelchair, and it was both physically exhausting and demoralizing for him to leave the house very often. He had always been a physically fit and active man, and he was having a very difficult time in accepting the limits he now had to place on himself.

  Kim’s profession, however, called for her to make frequent public appearances and attend numerous social events. When Charlie had become unable to accompany her, he’d pleaded with several of his single friends – Ian included – to act as Kim’s escort on occasion. Ian had been happy to assist, especially since Kim was willing to reciprocate and accompany him to various events – such as tonight’s party. It was a very satisfactory arrangement for both of them, and Ian was grateful to have Kim’s company this evening. Her witty conversational skills provided him with a much needed distraction from his continued obsession with a certain off-limits blonde.

  He took a sip of the expensive brandy before letting his gaze drift Tessa’s way yet again. Mentally he re-dressed her in a stunning ball gown – in pale pink or champagne, he thought, or perhaps a jewel shade – garnet, emerald, sapphire. The gown would showcase her perfect figure – displaying a tasteful amount of décolletage, nipping in at the waist, draping over her long legs. He would discard those flat shoes for a pair of sexy, high heeled stilettos. He couldn’t decide if he would leave all of that glorious hair down as it was now, or have it pinned up into some elaborate cascade of curls. And of course she would be wearing jewels – nothing too showy or overwhelming, but just enough to complete the total package. She would look even more irresistible than she did now, like a princess, a queen – his queen.

  The dancing began just after dessert and coffee had been served, and as Ian guided Kim smoothly about the floor he couldn’t help imagining another female in his arms. He shut his eyes briefly, wondering how Tessa’s soft, curvy body would feel pressed against his, his arm holding her possessively and far closer than Kim was at present. He wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation of burying his face in her thick curls, inhaling deeply of her sweet, intoxicating scent. And then, not particularly giving a damn who noticed or what anyone thought, he would usher her out of the ballroom and up to the owners suite.

  Every Gregson hotel and resort featured an ultra-luxe suite, the largest and grandest of all the lavish accommodations available at each property. The owners suites were typically only used by one of the family, though exceptions were made from time to time for a dignitary or celebrity. Ian kept a card key to the local hotel with him at all times, largely for the purposes of entertaining out of town business associates or friends. He did not use the suite for one-night stands or other romantic assignations, always determined to uphold the family reputation.

  But he would certainly make an exception for his golden girl, wouldn’t hesitate to sweep her upstairs and lock them away from the rest of the world for an hour or so, and it would take a super-human effort to summon up the will to return to the party eventually. As he chanced another quick glance in Tessa’s direction, he pictured her spread out on the suite’s enormous king-sized bed, her glorious hair spilling over the pillows like liquid gold. He would take his time with her, undressing her slowly and savoring each caress, each kiss. Ian had never considered himself a particularly passionate man, had always taken a somewhat clinical approach to sex, and had most definitely remained in total control of his reactions at such times.

  With Tessa, however, he sensed that maintaining any semblance of control would be an impossible undertaking. He would turn into a wild creature, desperate to possess her, and he feared that once he’d had her it would never be enough. She would become his obsession, the one thing he would covet beyond anything else, and he would never consent to let her go.

  But she wasn’t his, he realized grimly, and so long as she was married to the boy seated beside her he had no chance of claiming her for his own. How Colin would laugh uncontrollably were he to learn about Ian’s fixation for a girl so much younger than he was – and a married one at that. He would tell Ian that it was a case of fate biting him in the arse – payback in a way for Ian being so picky about the women he dated. Ian, in fact,
could hear his irritating but extremely perceptive brother now.

  “Serves you right, old man,” Colin would drawl in that lazy voice of his. “Here you are – good looking, rich, successful – and you could have most any woman you wanted. So what happens, hmm? You wind up falling for the one woman you can’t have. Rather poetic, don’t you think?”

  And for the first time in his life, Ian felt powerless – helpless, even – as he realized that this was a situation he had no way of controlling. No matter how much money or power he might have at his disposal, the one thing he longed for the most was destined to remain firmly out of his reach.

  Late January

  Tessa’s eyes were wide with shock as she watched Kevin, Gina, and Shelby down yet another round of shots. She’d lost count some time ago of how much all of them – including their dates – had had to drink this evening. Alicia, too, had been drinking quite heavily, though she’d declared taking shots to be on the uncouth side and had stuck to whatever type of martini she preferred.

  “Thank God tomorrow isn’t a work day,” Peter whispered to her. “Because I’ve got a feeling you and Marisol would be the only ones to show up. The rest of them are going to have one hell of a hangover.”

  Marisol and her husband had politely declined the invitation to go out clubbing with the others tonight since they didn’t have a babysitter. As for Tessa, she’d been torn between accepting the invitation to go out and have fun like most people her age did all the time, and making some excuse to avoid socializing with her co-workers. She had already turned down a few such invitations, but this time Peter had been the one to urge her to accept. And since he was even more introverted than she was, she’d been more than a little startled at his suggestion.

  But, really, she thought now as she sipped the glass of white wine she’d been nursing for the last half hour, it shouldn’t have been such a surprise when Peter had pushed her to go out with the others tonight. For weeks – months, now – he’d been encouraging her to make friends, take up a hobby or a class of some sort, most anything to help fill the lonely hours when he was out of the country working. And he had been especially persistent on the subject since returning from his most recent trip, when he’d walked inside the apartment in the middle of a Saturday afternoon to find her curled up on their bed, the covers pulled up over her head. She hadn’t been ill, per se, but rather suffering from a bout of depression. She had returned home from work the previous evening, and hadn’t left the bed since.

  Peter hadn’t been able to hide his alarm at finding her in such a state, and had gone out of his way to cheer her up – insisting they go out for a late lunch and then a walk. And even though he’d been jet-lagged and clearly worn out, he’d stayed up to watch a movie and make ice cream sundaes with her. She’d felt instantly better just from being around him, knowing that she wasn’t alone any longer. Or at least until the next time he had to leave on a multi-week trip, and she would once again have to fight off the melancholy that plagued her.

  When she had rather off-handedly mentioned the invitation to go out with her co-workers on Saturday, his agreement to join them had been the very last thing she could have expected. Peter detested the whole bar-hopping, club scene, and he was the only one of the group this evening to abstain from alcohol. Kevin had teased him about ordering a soda at the first club they had visited, until Peter had rather bluntly mentioned that both of his parents had been chronic alcoholics and he had no desire to follow in their ill-fated footsteps. That had shut Kevin – and all of the others – up for awhile, but Tessa hadn’t missed the way Gina and Alicia had giggled together and she knew they’d been making fun of Peter.

  As the evening had worn on the rest of the group had become progressively drunker and rowdier, and Tessa and Peter more uncomfortable. She had also fretted silently about how much money this was costing them – the cover charges, drinks, the cab they had taken here. There were now at their fourth stop of the evening, and she was more than ready to call it a night and head home after this.

  “We should go,” she whispered to Peter. “I’m kind of tired. Not used to drinking so much, you know?”

  Peter grinned at her knowingly. “You barely touched any of the drinks you ordered, Tess. But we can leave whenever you want to.”

  They made their excuses soon after that, and compromised between taking a taxi or a bus by using Uber. During the drive back to their apartment, Peter was quick to caution her about going out again with any of her co-workers.

  “I know I’ve been pushing you to go out more and make new friends,” he acknowledged, “but from what I saw tonight none of those people would be good friends for you. And it’s not just the drinking and crazy partying. I – well, frankly, Tess I don’t trust any of them. All four of them seem like the sort who’d give you a hug while figuring out a good spot to stick a knife in your back.”

  She sighed. “I know,” she agreed sadly. “I’ve pretty much known from the start that Gina and Alicia can’t be trusted for even a minute, but after I went out to lunch with Shelby a couple of weeks ago I had hopes of being friends with her. But that was before I overheard Kevin giving her hell for telling the other girls something he’d sworn her to secrecy on. So unfortunately I can’t trust her, either. As for Kevin, well - “

  “No.” Peter shook his head firmly. “He would definitely not be a good influence on you, Tess. I know you can take care of yourself, and that you’re not the sort to make stupid decisions, but your buddy Kevin there would do his very best to try and corrupt you. And you can’t trust him, either. When you and Shelby went to the ladies room at that last place, I overheard him talking about you with Gina and Alicia. So my advice to you would be watch what you tell any of them, okay? Keep your private life just that – private. Otherwise those gossipy bitches will make sure everyone in the office knows all your secrets.”

  Tessa nodded. “Agreed. And no more of these nights out with them, either. Even if you’re with me. I think we can both agree that this wasn’t a very fun evening for us.”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be having fun, Tess. You’re only twenty-two years old, way too young to stay home every night. Most girls your age are still in college, going to parties, dating a bunch of different guys. And you could still have that life. I’d help you apply to schools, get financial aid, settle into student housing. You could get a degree, get a better job so that you don’t have to be someone’s secretary all your life. And,” he added more soberly, “you could finally have a normal relationship, instead of being tied to someone as messed up as I’m always going to be.”

  She squeezed his hand tightly, fighting off the sense of panic that she always felt whenever Peter talked about a future without him in it. “I don’t care about that,” she protested. “I’ve told you that over and over again. Please, Peter. Let’s not talk about it again tonight, okay?”

  Peter hesitated, and she knew that as far as he was concerned the matter was far from closed. But instead of pressing the matter further, he did as she asked.

  Tessa knew, however, that it would only be a matter of time before Peter broached the subject again. And that one of these times he would stop listening to all of the reasons they should stay together and go his separate way. She only hoped that before that day came she would find the strength she’d need to be on her own again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  February

  “Should I pick you up at the usual time tomorrow morning, Mr. Gregson? Or will you be going into the office a bit later?”

  Ian gave a tired sigh and shook his head at his chauffeur’s question. “I’m afraid not, Simon. I need to be at my desk bright and early for a conference call so it will be the usual pick up time.”

  The tall, silver-haired Welshman, who had worked as Ian’s personal chauffeur – and unofficial bodyguard – since he’d moved to San Francisco, gave a brief nod of acknowledgment. “Very good, Mr. Gregson. I’ll see you here then. At least it’s already Fr
iday tomorrow, sir. Hopefully you can rest up over the weekend.”

  Ian smiled wearily. “One can hope, mate. Thank you for picking me up so late tonight, though I should have arranged for a taxi once I knew the flight was going to be delayed.”

  Simon shook his head. “It’s never a problem, sir, and no need to thank me. Just doing my job, Mr. Gregson. Have a good night’s sleep.”

  “You, too, mate. See you in the morning.”

  Ian disengaged the house alarm using an app on his smartphone before unlocking the front double doors. Both the exterior and interior lights of his Georgian style, red brick home were on a timer, largely for security purposes since he traveled so frequently. He left his suitcase and laptop bag in the spacious entryway for the moment as he made his way through the big house to the kitchen. He turned on the lights before grabbing a bottle of water from the cavernous Sub Zero refrigerator and drinking half of it down thirstily. He wasn’t the least bit hungry, given the lateness of the hour, and the fact that he’d eaten an expertly prepared meal during the flight home from Washington D.C. on the corporate jet.

  One of the perks he enjoyed as the Regional Director was having a private plane at his disposal for the frequent business trips he made. Not having to wait in long security lines, or deal with checking baggage saved him precious hours. But unfortunately, private planes were still subject to all manner of weather related delays, just as commercial flights were, and the trip home from the East Coast had been delayed by nearly three hours.

  He’d dozed a bit on the flight but was still exhausted by this time of the night, and he didn’t waste any more time before stripping down to his dark gray briefs and pulling back the covers of his custom made king sized bed. As he did so, however, he couldn’t help running a hand over one of the pillows, envisioning long, silky blonde curls spread out over the soft cotton sheets. He was bone tired, but not so completely exhausted that he couldn’t picture a naked, willing, and responsive Tessa waiting in the bed for him.