By Invitation Only- The Series

by Zane Michaelson

  Zander would fuck me like the horny bitch I was, but Jensen would take his time, open me up like a delicate flower and discover every part of me. Our bodies would collide in an explosion of orgasmic energy.

  Feeling my cheeks flush, I stopped myself, as much as I didn’t want to.

  He looked at me through the rear-view mirror, and I knew he could see what I was doing, but as ever, he was professional to the core.

  I would bet every single possession I owned, his cock was rock hard.

  Jensen opened my door a few minutes later.

  I could feel my face flush.

  “Your plane awaits, Miss Childs.”

  I give up trying, Miss Childs it is.

  He offered his hand and I took hold and stepped out of the car, just like a movie star.

  I was dressed to kill in a little black dress I’d designed myself. It was truly one of a kind. Black Jimmy Choo’s, retro Cat Eye sunglasses and my favoured stylish chignon completed the look. I’d applied darker, more dramatic tones of shadow to my eye lids and the blood red shade my lips were painted would show Zander Shaw I meant business.

  Red stood for danger, and it suited me perfectly.

  Forgetting Zander for the moment, I was determined to wow the French Riviera.

  I ascended the steps gracefully and stopped at the top, turning to look at the view. Jensen was behind me, this time, not escorting me. A far cry from yesterday.

  A steward carried my cases from the car.

  “Welcome aboard, Miss Childs,” the steward said.

  Shit, he’s gorgeous. Probably gay though.

  “Thank you…”

  “My name is Alain, and I will be with you for the duration of the flight. I am here to tend to all of your needs.”

  I wonder what kind of needs he is referring to?

  “Good to meet you, Alain.” I offered a gloved hand. “Just a small glass of wine and I’ll be fine,” I said.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” he said, shaking my hand. I was certain he winked at me.

  I’ve always wanted to join the Mile High Club and this guy has the most inviting eyes.

  Jensen stood by the aircraft door, not taking his eyes off me for a moment.

  Deciding flirting with the aircraft personnel wasn’t the best course of action, I strapped myself into my plush leather seat and was handed a menu to read.

  “Thank you, but I won’t be wanting any food.”

  “If you change your mind.”

  “It’s only a short flight, and I’ll eat once we arrive.”

  “Very well, Miss Childs.”

  Jensen took a seat behind me.

  I turned to look at him.

  “Do I smell?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Why are you sitting there? Do I make you nervous?”

  “That’s the second time you’ve asked me that question.”

  “Only because you’re staying away from me. You do know I see you as a person, and not the hired help, don’t you?”

  “It is not professional to overstep boundaries.”

  “Boundaries?” I’d woken up in an abrasive mood, and he was about to know about it. “Is jacking off in my bathroom not overstepping those boundaries?”

  His face flushed. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Yesterday, when I invited you in for coffee. You got yourself a little flustered.”

  “I had stomach flu.”

  I laughed, impressed at his quick thinking. “If you say so.”

  Well, if that’s the way he wanted it, fine. I grabbed a magazine from the table and opened it. I’d amuse myself for the duration of the flight.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The atmosphere on the jet was frosty.

  I hadn’t spoken a word to Jensen for a while and felt quite uncomfortable in his company.

  I looked forward to arriving in France, meeting up with Zander and getting some much-needed space away from Jensen.

  “Please fasten your seatbelts,” the captain advised. “We will be landing shortly.”

  “Thank God,” I said.”

  Jensen finally spoke. “Did you not enjoy the flight, Miss Childs?”

  “The company was most disappointing,” I snapped.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied.

  “Don’t be.”

  “Have I said or done something to offend you?”

  “Are you kidding me? You blow hot and cold–I never know where I am with you.”

  “I am sorry you feel that way, but I have a job to do. I can’t allow my personal feelings to cloud my judgement.”

  “What personal feelings?”

  “I like you, Miss Childs. A lot more than I should.”

  “And I like you too, Jensen.”

  “But you are en-route to meet with Mr Shaw. Surely, you see the conflict there.”

  He was right. I liked Zander, but I liked Jensen too. “Yes, I get it.”

  “It is nothing personal, but my loyalty will always be to Mr Shaw.”

  I was behaving like a trollop. I was here to see Zander and fawning after the hired help. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise I’d put you in such an awful predicament. From now on, strictly professional.”

  “Thank you.”

  I walked down the steps of the jet and didn’t need anybody to tell me how good I looked.

  This lifestyle suited me perfectly, and now I had more money than sense at my disposal, I could live the high life.

  Well, a fleet of private jets was out of my price range, but I could afford one maybe, at a push.

  Who was I kidding? I wasn’t that girl. I’d built up Rich Bitch from nothing and sold it for millions of pounds.

  Yes, I had money in the bank, but I was still the same person. For years, I’d had zero financial worries, so a few extra zeros to my bank balance shouldn’t make a difference.

  “Your car, Miss Childs.”

  “Is that for me?” I gazed at the red open top Rolls Royce.

  “All for you.” Jensen opened the door, took my hand and helped me inside. I felt like Audrey Hepburn in one of those old movies.

  “Thank you.” I settled into the comfy seat. “Where are we heading to first.”

  “I’m to take you to lunch and then onto Mr Shaw’s villa.”

  “Is Zander not joining me for lunch?”

  “He is tied up in a business meeting but will meet with you later this evening.”

  I seethed inside. What was the point in me taking this trip if he didn’t have time to see me? I said nothing until Jensen brought the car to a stop.

  “Is this it?”

  “Yes, I hope it meets your approval?”

  “Am I supposed to eat in a place like this alone?”

  “I will escort you.”

  “But you won’t be eating, right?”

  “Well, I hadn’t planned to.”

  “Then take me to the villa. I’m not sitting in a poncey place like that, dressed up like a dog’s dinner, and eating alone.”

  “But…”

  “No but’s,” I snapped. “Take me to the villa.”

  I pulled my phone from my bag.

  Zander, you might get away

  with this sort of behaviour with

  the other women you fuck but

  not me.

  A minute later he replied;

  Woah!

  What’s the problem?

  Was he really that stupid?

  I’ll tell you what the problem is…

  I spend more time with your

  Chauffeur than I do you.

  I apologise.

  Stuck in

  meetings all day.

  I will be seeing you in a few hours

  and will make it up

  to you.

  Z x

  I wanted to scream.

  If I don’t see you in a few hours

  I’m flying home and you can

  find somebody else to

  play games with.

 
Do you know how much

  it turns me on when

  you put me in my

  place?

  So sexy!

  Z x

  Now, he was really testing my patience.

  GET FUCKED,

  DICKHEAD!

  He didn’t reply.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Zander burst into reams of laughter.

  Geneviève, his Executive Assistant jumped, then glowered at him.

  “Mr Shaw! Is everything okay?”

  “Just fine, Geneviève. Sorry if I startled you.”

  “What’s so amusing?”

  “Miss Childs, if you must know.” He re-read her last text message and chuckled. “She’s quite the spitfire.”

  She peered over her designer spectacles. “I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing?”

  “Trust me. This time it’s a good thing.”

  “If you don’t mind me saying, you seem different with this one.”

  “Oh?”

  “Well, for a start, you haven’t asked me to send the obligatory bouquet of flowers.”

  “Cammie deserves more than flowers.”

  Geneviève arched her eyebrows and removed her spectacles. “I’ve worked for you for over seven years and have never seen this side of you.”

  “I’m not getting any younger.”

  “Is your biological clock ticking away?”

  “Not as such, but the time is fast approaching for me to settle down and have a family.”

  “Should I call your doctor?”

  Zander looked at her with a curious expression. “I’m not ill.”

  She stepped out from behind her desk and approached Zander. “Do you mind?”

  “Feel free.”

  Geneviève felt his forehead. “You’re not delirious, so I assume…”

  He interrupted her. “Haha! Very amusing I must say.”

  “All joking aside, Mr Shaw, if Miss Childs is the woman of your dreams, I couldn’t be happier for you, and anything you need me to do, you only have to ask.”

  “Is everything arranged for this evening?”

  “Her dress was flown in a few hours ago, along with the shoes and mask. I believe they are en-route to Jensen as we speak.”

  “Then let’s hope she forgives me for abandoning her or I’ll be at the ball alone.”

  “She is angry with you?”

  Zander held up his phone and Geneviève put her spectacles back on and read the screen.

  A smile appeared on her lips. “She certainly isn’t backward in coming forward I’ll give her that much.”

  “You’re dying to laugh, admit it.”

  “If you want me to be honest, this smile is one of admiration for the lady who put the great Zander Shaw in his place.”

  “I have a feeling she will keep me on my toes.”

  “Well, before you whisk her away for an enchanting evening, I have something urgent that requires your attention.”

  “What is it now?”

  “Another letter was delivered this morning–but this time by hand.”

  “Have you had the CCTV checked?”

  “Yes, and it seems it was local courier service that delivered the letter. They were paid cash but have refused to give any further details.”

  “Get back onto them. I don’t care how much it costs, but I want more information, what he looks like, what time he requested the delivery, everything. Get onto Michel and have the envelope checked for prints.”

  “Already on it.”

  “Good.” Geneviève hovered. “You have something else to say?”

  “I’m sorry, but I have to ask–this is the third letter in a month regarding Charlotte.”

  “And?” He was angry.

  “Do you know where she is?”

  “Are you asking me if I had my ex-girlfriend murdered?”

  “I suppose I am, yes. But before you answer, whatever you tell me will stay between us, no matter how bad it is.”

  “I appreciate your loyalty, Geneviève, and as much of a bastard as I have been, and can be, assassinations aren’t my thing. I loved Charlotte and also want to know why she vanished.”

  “Then, that’s all I need to know. I’ll keep you informed of any updates.”

  “Thank you.”

  He left the room and made his way to the private suite upstairs.

  Closing the door behind him, he sat on the bed and rubbed at his temples.

  Guilt over Charlotte crushed him, but with Cammie, he had a fighting chance of a future.

  The past could be finally laid to rest.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I was miserable. I was in the Côte d’Azur for God’s sake and Zander’s villa was palatial, so I should have been having the time of my life, but I’d never felt so alone.

  I wanted to go home and had decided to re-pack my cases and book a taxi to the airport when Jensen knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” I called out, knowing he wouldn’t treat potential girlfriends in such a way.

  “I have something for you,” he said.

  In his arms were three different sized boxes.

  “If they’re from Zander, he can shove them up his arse.” I knew I was behaving like a spoiled brat, but his behaviour was inexcusable too.

  “They are a gift from Mr Shaw.”

  “If one of those boxes doesn’t contain his head, I don’t want to know.”

  Jensen laughed. I was surprised. Bringing himself into line, he coughed a few times. “I’m sorry.”

  I laughed too. “Don’t be.”

  “Are you going to accept the gifts, or should I, as you so delicately put it, shove them up his arse?”

  The gift packaging hadn’t escaped my attention. It was the same type my red dress came in.

  “Does he buy those boxes in bulk?”

  “No,” Jensen replied.

  “What are they?”

  “I’m not privy to the contents, so open them and see for yourself.”

  I took one of the smaller boxes from him, put it down on the bed, and opened it.

  There was a card inside;

  Castles Aren’t Just For Princesses

  What the hell did that mean?

  Delving into the box, there was a gold masquerade mask and a brand-new pair of Nicholas Kirkwood Lola faux-pearl sequin-embellished sandals.

  “They’re gorgeous.” I was annoyed Zander was winning me over with material possessions.

  “And the rest?” He put the other boxes on the bed.

  I opened the next largest box. What did I need a hooped skirt for? It was the kind used to go underneath ballgowns. “Am I going to a ball, or something?”

  “Open the last box.”

  I did, and gasped. Inside was the most exquisite gown I’d ever seen in my life. It could have been taken straight from a Disney movie.

  The dress was made of duchess satin, ivory with a delicate gold stitching throughout. The bodice was corseted, and the bottom half of the dress would flow beautifully over the hoop skirt.

  “This is just gorgeous,” I said.

  “Mr Shaw has been busy with meetings, but found time to plan a party, just for you.”

  “For me?”

  “Yes. He even had the orchestra that played for you a few nights ago flown over for the event.”

  “Why would he go to all that trouble and expense simply for me?”

  “Because he likes you, I would imagine.”

  “I can’t believe it.” I wanted to cry. Nobody had ever made me feel this special before.

  “You have two hours to get ready.”

  “I’ll never be…”

  Jensen held a finger up. “I have a team of dressers, make-up artists and hairstylists on standby.”

  “Where are they?”

  “In the room next door.”

  “I’m amazed he thought of it.”

  “Mr Shaw leaves nothing to chance.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The ba
llroom doors opened.

  She handed her invitation to the gentleman standing at the top of the stairs.

  “Madame Caressa Delacourt.” He announced her arrival with a booming voice.

  She’d almost forgotten etiquette for these types of events.

  A servant handed her a program of dancing. That certainly wouldn’t be required. She wasn’t there to kick up her heels and dance the night away with the snobs of French society. She felt more comfortable with the hoi polloi.

  Caressa manoeuvred the steps with grace and poise, despite the ridiculous costume she’d been forced to wear.

  It was a masquerade ball, which was ideal for her sole purpose of sneaking around and garnering whatever information she could.

  She didn’t have an escort, but one wasn’t required.

  Caressa needed no man on her arm.

  I wonder where you are?

  Her eyes swept the room, but she could see no sign of Zander Shaw or his latest concubine.

  Phones were strictly forbidden, but Caressa was never going to step foot into the lion’s den without means of calling for back up and had slyly stuffed it into her garter. She could feel it vibrating against her thigh and guessed it would be Arnaud, frantically trying to dissuade her from attending the last-minute ball.

  It was risky, but what was life without taking risks?

  The phone continued to vibrate.

  Caressa spied Gerhardt Koln, the caretaker of the castle, walking toward her.

  “You made it, Madame Delacourt?”

  “Of course–I paid enough for the invitation.”

  “The pitfalls of gate-crashing Mr Shaw’s event.”

  “Quite.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, why were you so keen to be here? One hundred thousand euros is a lot of money to pay to attend a last-minute party.”

  “Some things can’t be missed, and this event is one of them.”

  “Are you and Mr Shaw acquainted?”