by Pamela Ann
“How far along are you?”
“A little over four weeks.”
“Sex on the stairs worked like magic, I take it?” Happiness consumed me as I took her hand in mine and kissed her palm. “Don’t you worry about anything, love. I’m going to take care of you. I won’t be leaving your side until you’ve given birth to our baby.”
“And after the baby? You’re not dumping me, are you?”
I shrugged noncommittally. “Well, that depends…”
She playful hit my chest again before I kissed her senseless. “I would never leave you. Especially not now. Not when I can’t function without you.” It was true. “I might have to lessen my trips to a week if I can’t take you with me. I can’t stand being this far from you.”
The soft, intimate mood was interrupted by the loud, growling sound of her belly.
“We’re starving, in case you haven’t heard.” She made a sheepish grin. “Your baby’s a little demanding.”
It was a Knightly trait, one that would drive the mother a little crazy. In approximately eight months’ time, our little bean would be ready to say hello to Mama and Papa.
Mrs. Knightly
Two weeks later
Blake
I went over to see Sienna at work. It was nine at night and I was suddenly consumed with this profound need to see her, even if it was from afar.
It had been two weeks since I had seen her last, when she had made a surprise visit to Australia. It would’ve been nice to come home to her waiting for me after being so far apart for so long, but she was busy with her studies and work. I respected that about her—that she still wanted to pave her way even though I had more money than Croesus, and she was more than welcome to do as she pleased. The woman was stubborn. She still paid her own shopping sprees and other stuff women enjoyed with her own money. The credit cards and the savings account I had opened for her remained untouched.
I had never thought I’d rue the day I wished a woman wasn’t after my money. Regardless, this was not the case with my wife. It would’ve been nice if she took a little from me. Something was better than nothing. It merely proved she was highly independent and didn’t need me at all. I wanted her to need me, though, like I needed her. However, my incessant nagging made her threaten me with not using any of the cards to decorate our baby’s room. Subsequently, I took the hint and left her be.
Even in pregnancy, she was still gorgeous as ever, and my desire for her only burned brighter.
Life was the same, even though we were expecting. She continued to be quite active in all of her endeavors, and I admired her spirit, even though she was boggled with doubts about parenting. But with my assurance, we would cope together.
~
The next day…
It was a Saturday, and I noticed she was all geared up to head somewhere.
“Where are you headed to?”
“The farmers’ market around Marylebone.”
“Can I come?” I inquired lightly, hoping she’d say yes.
She looked doubtful. “Are you sure your multi-billion dollar empire can survive without you for a day?”
“A few hours won’t make a difference, no need to worry.”
She rolled her eyes before taking a recycled bag out of the drawer. “We need these.”
“So, what do you plan to shop for? Eggplants and a few tomatoes?” I smirked, loving the whole domesticated exchange we were having. Who would’ve thought I’d be going to a farmers’ market on a bloody Saturday? Surely my grandfather would be amused once I told him the story.
I strode over to her, lovingly memorizing her face. My wife. “I love you, Sienna.” I just had to say it.
Every day, without fail, I’d tell her just how much she meant to me.
Baby Blues
Blake
We had just come back from a doctor’s appointment where we saw how our baby was doing when Sienna started to cry like someone had died.
Cautiously closing the front door, I took a moment to look at her and wondered if this was purely hormonal or if it was much more than that.
“Cara?” I asked gently as I strode towards her.
Large tears streamed down her lovely face. “This is becoming all too real, and I’m scared, Blake. I’m fucking terrified.”
I immediately went and held her, soothing her by smoothing down her hair as I softly told her comforting things. “We’re not going to lose our baby, poppet. This one’s a fighter. Trust me on this one.”
She shook her head, truly inconsolable. “That’s not what I meant. This child, with my luck… it’s petrifying. Don’t get me wrong, I love children. I’m just scared that the past will repeat itself and my child will be helpless like I was.”
This was more about her, not the child per say. It was about her past experiences. Poor darling.
“Oh, Sienna…”
“I grew up frightened, Blake. Hiding from my aunt and uncle and my cousins became normal to me. I don’t want that for my child. We could just die any day…” Her fears were visible in her eyes. She truly was terrified.
“I could die tomorrow, but I’m comforted by the fact that we have friends that will help you and the baby. Toby, Lucy, and Chad will do everything in their power to help raise our son or daughter.”
She made a small hiccupping sound before she hugged onto me tighter. “I’ve been getting these weird, frightful dreams…
“I love you,” she whispered, shaking a little with tears in her eyes. “I love you so much, a And the thought of losing you forever terrifies me more than you know. There are times that I’m distant. It’s because of that reason. If I lose you, I’m going with you, Blake.”
I was glad she was opening up to me about her fears. I had actually been starting to worry that she had easily accepted being pregnant without any major emotional upheaval. However, if I died tomorrow, I’d never forgive her if she decided to go with me.
“No, you won’t. I won’t let you.” I sought her eyes. “You will move on and live a long, happy life. If it does happen, I would want you to find another man that loves you the way I have loved you. A man that’s willing to put you ahead of his needs. I don’t want to see you pining for me; I want you and the baby to have a happy, enriched life. That’s why I’m working so hard to build a future for you both.”
“How could you say that?” She was aghast at the thought of it. “If I died, I wouldn’t want you to move on. I’m terrified about everything—the future, losing you. Maybe I’m just being hormonal, but I can’t stop thinking about all these awful things that could happen to us.”
I laughed, knowing she meant it. “I’d mourn you until I joined you…”
I never wanted to part with her. Even in death, I’d stay close by her side. And that was a promise.
The Beautiful Life
We had just found out that we were having a baby girl, and we were lounging on the couch, eating Chinese while we brainstormed baby names.
“How about Cara?” she suggested as she gobbled on the Lo Mein noodles, looking happily satisfied.
Definitely not. “I already call you cara as one of my endearments. I don’t want our child to confuse herself whilst growing up.”
She sighed before belching out loud. “Ooops. That seriously just came out of nowhere.”
“Uh-huh,” I said incredulously. “I guess the same goes with your gastrointestinal problem?”
She smacked my head with a pillow. “Hey, you were the one who asked for this baby, so back off with your little remarks, buddy.”
I snorted, laughing out loud. “It’s okay that you’re gassy and you fart when you least expect it.” I was referring to her “incident” at Stella and Callum’s baby shower.
“Blake Knightly!” She reddened from embarrassment.
Bending over to kiss her burgeoning belly, I whispered to my daughter, “That, my dear love, is your mother. She’s a tad wonky, but we’re going to love her either way. But I’m warning you, she’s quite
a handful, this beautiful, gorgeous mother of yours.”
“Mock me all you want,” she said in a warning tone, “but I’m not giving you sex for a week. Now how’s that for wonky?”
Bloody Hell. “I get hard when you lie, cara.”
“Try me,” she taunted.
“You bet your lovely arse I will. I’m going to devour you all night long.”
THE END
Falling For Ava (British Billionaires) coming September 2014!
Clive Barrington’s story will also be in the British Billionaires Series, Falling For The Siren. Coming 2015
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Read a special preview of Pamela Ann’s next novel, Bartered, the first book of The Encounter Trilogy.
More books by Pamela Ann
The Torn Series Order:
Scornfully Yours
Scornfully Hers
Frayed
Blasphemous
Undeniably Yours
Scorned
Fixated On You
Christmas With You
Unveiled November 19
Crushed TBA
Damaged TBA
The Chasing Series:
Chasing Beautiful
Chasing Imperfection
Chasing Paradise
Chasing Forever (Lucy & Toby)
Chasing Mrs. Knightly: Epilogue
Lily’s Mistake
Loving Drake
Loving Lily
British Billionaires Series:
Falling For My Husband (Callum & Stella)
Falling For Ava (Reiss & Ava) September 2014
Formula Men Series:
Monza Luca di Medici Coming June 24
Nice Jacques Bertrand TBA
Barcelona Andrès Franco TBA
Pieces: A Duet
Pieces of You & Me
Pieces Of Us
Havoc (Dark Erotica)
+ Upcoming Novels +
My Summer in Venice Coming May 2014
Bartered Coming August 2014
Breaking My Vows TBA 2014
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Bartered (A Trilogy)
A woman could be… Everything. Anything. Nothing.
I was a connoisseur of beautiful things, women included. I didn’t just have one, but three—all exotic, stunning and would do anything I asked.
My life was grand. It was perfect and I was content with it all, until a little minx came along. The second our eyes clashed, giving me a glimpse of her violet blue depths that had a mixture of stubbornness and will but with a hint of something else…
Choices were made. Decisions were done.
And for the very first time in my life, I was challenged with something risky, merely igniting the animal in me.
Bartered
(The Encounter Trilogy)
Copyright © 2014 by Pamela Ann
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without a written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
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Chapter 1
Hugo
“Mr. Xavier, your presence is needed sir.” Benoît, my head security, prompted me the second I hung up the conference call I had from England.
I considered him a moment, pausing as I raised my brow, before responding to him with a curt question. “In regards to what?”
My life revolved mostly with work. Well, it was the love of my life. The Riviera had been in my family for generations. It was more than a five-star luxury hotel that offered one of Europe’s finest casinos but it was a class on its own. It was a legacy that ran in my blood. It became my soul when I had nothing left going on with my life.
This was all I had.
The power.
The prestige.
The privilege.
Benoît cleared his throat before answering me with a raised brow, doubtful. “It’s about Miss Dana Bateau sir. One of the cleaning ladies found her in your library trying to open your safe.” He paused before sharply adding, “Sir.”
Dana…trying to open my safe… she’s been with me for about over six months and was this her first attempt? Or the first she ever got caught? I met her through Javier. A man I socialized yet never welcomed in my circle of trusted friends. Come to think of it, I didn’t have friends. I had partners, associates, acquaintances…but never friendships. I didn’t trust a lot of people—and the ones I did—it was a puny trusted circle. Dana obviously wasn’t in it. “Where is she now?” I calmly asked as I turned my attention back on the screen, starting at the message that was before me while I waited for Benoît to continue.
“She’s held in the villa sir. We’re waiting for your orders.”
“Hmm,” I murmured nonchalantly before getting up, striding into the vast glass that covered the entire wall looking down on the bright lights that showed the night beauty of Monaco. “Wait for me downstairs. I need a moment.” Gently barking out an order, I didn’t move until I heard the soft shut of the heavy oak door before strolling towards the marbled table for my humidor. Cuban cigars were lined accordingly. Precisely. Just like my life—it was a well-oiled lifestyle…and from time to time one would find some problems. The imperfections. Like Dana…
Plucking one out of the leathered case, I reached for my ivory encrusted cutter. It was a present from one of my lovers. One of the few presents that I truly enjoyed. The ivory tusk that it came from wasn’t from a poacher—or so what Evangeline promised. She said it was from her elephant pet who had became so ill they had to end her life. She loved the pet so much that she wanted me to have something beautiful that had meaning. She was one of the tribal African princesses, so I didn’t question her. Surely princesses didn’t lie? I thought with amusement as I recalled her stating the same thing. She was a woman of beauty and quick wit. I admired that about her. It was unfortunate when we ended our relationship because she was due to marry someone of high ranking from her country.
Lighting my cigar, I thought of Dana and the contents of what was in the safe. The items in there was of value…but it was of no value in regards to anything vital—those were kept in a place where no one could access it but myself.
Taking a long draw, I leisurely exhaled the smoke as I savored the smooth taste it left of my tongue when I heard another knock, angered that someone dared knock on my door when I gave orders not to disturb me other than Benoît. “What?”
I heard the man himself clear his throat before breaking another news. “There’s another urgent matter sir.”
“Merde!” It was barely noon and this day led more surprises than Bastille Day. “Ce qui s'est passé?” What happened? I wasn’t known for my temper nor did I often display it most especially to the people that I employed, but for the past week after that short and curt meeting I had with my father, I’d been on a short fuse, about to explode like a ticking time bomb to whomever stepped on my wrong foot. Father kept reminding me of the oath I took. Each year was the very same s
peech and it wasn’t as if I was going to ever forget my vow. Yet every year, at the very same day he visits to make sure I was in check—that I wasn’t being reckless as he sarcastically put it.
Reckless wasn’t part of my anatomy. Yet the old man persisted. Though I couldn’t lay the blame on him. We both weren’t at fault that we were cursed. It has caused my father tremendous pain and suffering and his “yearly reminder” was done out of love with a hefty amount of caution. It was a curse we both grieved and would endure until we both shall live on this earth.
Benoît came into view seeming undeterred about my outburst. “It’s a matter of a Class A client sir. He was caught counting cards and when security detained him, it showed that he had insufficient funds to reimburse the checks.”
Money made the world go fucking round and round, as it did with mine. “How much does he owe?”
“Three hundred thousand Euros,” he uttered without a blink.
Fils de pute. Son of a bitch. “This man owes me three hundred thousand euros—and he still managed to get inside my casino to gamble some more—and security didn’t flag him?”
“The finance department wasn’t notified until an hour ago. The security team wouldn’t have known that, Monsieur Xavier. Our men follow protocols, never fear of that.”
They did. Of course, he was right. He was the one who made sure that everything was perfect. Batard. “Where’s this man now?”
