I swiftly look to the doors. Where the hell is Nathan? I need help here, now.
The man introduces himself as Mr Adrien Knight, and shakes the hand of all the men around the table. My eyes are still on the door. The door is a lot less daunting. It’s the wine, it has to be. It has gone straight to my head and is making me irrational. Get a grip Liz. He’s just another well to do bigwig.
“Excuse me,” a voice extreme and silky makes my heart bound.
Be normal Liz. Just say hello, then when this is over you can go and strangle Nathan.
I exhale and turn. I grin faintly, seeing his strong clean shaven jaw, his perfect cheekbones, and wavy styled brown hair. He’s holding out his hand. His pale fingers are well moisturised, and there’s a hint of light arm hair poking out from his brilliant white sleeve.
I reach out and gulp. I know I look ridiculous. I bet my face is pillar box red; I can feel it. Damn my insecurity. It doesn’t help that he’s staring at me so keenly.
A quick handshake, you can do this Liz. He may be a striking creature with a mind-blowing odour, but beneath he’s probably the same as them all.
I touch his sleek palm and curl my fingers around his unusually cool hand. I release fast, before I turn all gooey.
“Hi, I’m Liz Lovell.”
He takes his seat while altering his jacket, still staring at me. I don’t think it’s normal to hold eye contact for so long. I think he’s discourteous for making me so uneasy. Maybe it’s my fault. He’s the hottest guy I think I’ve ever been this close to, and my eyes keep flicking on him and off him. Perhaps he thinks I have an eye problem.
“Short for Elizabeth?” he asks, his jaw tensing. “Elizabeth is much better, Miss Lovell.”
All the men around the table look on like they’re witnessing some mating ritual. I drink the last drop of wine in my glass, but my mouth is still so dry. I do hope he doesn’t feel the need to talk with me further. I won’t be able to reply with this cotton mouth.
I move my eyes back to the doors while Mr Knight talks business. His view repeatedly falls on me, and it sears the side of my face. If I look I will liquefy in this heat. Nathan is going to pay for this. I think I might actually punch him in the face when he’s done out there.
“All work and no play.” One of the men cackles loudly, rising from his seat with the others.
“You all have courtesy chips. Enjoy, and I will join you shortly,” Mr Knight says, remaining in his seat.
They all leave the table to go and play big boy games in the casino room. So now, it’s just me and the kind of man I will never be able to be normal around. This is a shot for me. I could interview the infamous Mr Knight. But why has he got to be so damn unapproachable? He wants to be alone with me; it’s clear in the way he’s still staring. I don’t know what to make of it. Is he just some dirty pervert? Or does he want to tell me that I don’t belong at an event such as this?
“Your friend is outside enjoying the company of one of my employees.” He flicks his fingers at the bar and orders some posh foreign wine. “So, you’re here to gather information for an article. How’s that working out for you, Elizabeth?”
It’s not, but I’m not going to tell you that, Mr Knight.
“Fine thank you.” I shyly grin.
He folds his arms across the table and arches a little. “I don’t bite.”
“Sorry.” I huff, pulling in my gut. “It’s been a long night and I have work tomorrow.” My eyes dance around the room. “And an article to come up with for my lecturer.” I catch a breath.
He thankfully gives me a break from his observations to pour himself a glass of red wine. Then he begins to pour into a second.
“Here.” He holds out the glass.
“Sorry, I don’t like red.”
I really don’t mind the taste. It’s the feeling the next day I don’t care for. Not the atypical hangover for me. I feel dreadful off the stuff.
His jawbone clamps and his brow sinks low. He seems genuinely disgruntled that I won’t take his offering, and is still holding the glass out for me.
“This, you will like,” he says adamantly, not giving me the option to refuse. “It’s from my own personal collection.”
I don’t like being forced into anything, but I take the glass and sip, merely to stop him pressurising me. It’s smooth and refreshing, unlike the cheap bottles of plonk I’m used to. I hum out, surprised by the taste, and he seems pleased by my reaction.
“So, Miss Lovell,” he says, relaxing back in the chair so his jacket parts, enticing my view to his chest.
“I prefer Liz, Mr Knight.” I blush, glancing down at my hands.
I’m cut from a different cloth to him. Though, I do like the way my name rolls in his sleek deep American tone.
“Elizabeth,” he says, ignoring my request. “Tell me.” He draws in his red lips and it’s a sight that makes my butt shuffle. “What do you know of what we do?”
Shit. I know nothing other than he buys and sells properties. What the hell do I say?
I stare blankly for a moment, and he can see me thinking hard. Lines on his forehead appear, and his lids expand due to my lapse in dialogue. He must be only a few years older than myself. I’d say twenty-seven, maybe eight. He’s obviously rich and knows what he wants. And he seems to be able to wrap the more mature businessman around his little finger. Now how do I come up with an answer from my observations, without being rude?
He knows I’m dying here. He rubs his temple briefly, bored by my silence.
“So...” He smiles idly. “Where is it you work?”
This is a much more agreeable question. One I think I can actually answer. That is if I don’t look directly into his eyes.
“I basically make coffee at a small coffee shop called Aroma. The best coffee in the city.” Oh shit, that sounded like a cheesy advertisement. “It’s just to help me get through uni. Rent and food... you know.” How could he possibly know? Liz, you should be quiet now.
Nathan arrives back with a spring in his step. I scowl from his waist, right up to his fulfilled eyes. He glances at Mr Knight then back to me. He can tell from my face that he’s in for it. I’m giving him my best pissed-off scowl. He reaches across the table and I notice his shirt is half hanging out, and his belt buckle not fastened correctly. I scream at him inside my head, you dirty shit. Couldn’t wait could you!
He shakes Mr Knight’s hand and receives a curious glare of disapproval, because it’s so obvious what he’s been up to.
“Nice to meet you...?” Mr Knight queries.
“Nathan.”
“Well Nathan, you should never leave a lady such as Miss Lovell to entertain herself.” Mr Knight releases Nathan’s hand. “There are many who would take advantage of such a situation.”
Nathan subtly rolls his eyes. He thinks I can take care of myself. I thought the same, until I met Mr Knight and have now become a sweltering bag of nerves.
“Miss Lovell.” Mr Knight stands and glides around the table. The closer he gets, the faster my heart booms. “Until next time.”
He takes my hand unexpectedly. His touch causes an icy blast to surge through my veins. He stoops and his blood red lips brush against my knuckles, while he gazes intensely from beneath his brow. I gulp and gulp to rid the lump in my neck as he releases and walks away. I inhale audibly, watching his perfect backside you could bounce a penny off, move across the room. Jeez, I need a damn hose down.
“What the fuck was all that about?” Nathan squeals.
I thrust out my chair, stand, and push Nathan in the chest for leaving me to deal with that sizzling encounter alone.
Chapter 2
Adrien
Finally the last guests have gone and I can think of something other than entertaining assholes. To be frank, I can think about that short heated encounter with Miss Elizabeth Lovell.
I sit at the bar alone, shaking the ice in my whiskey before finishing the last drop. I pour myself another with an unusual feeling
in my trousers. A stiffness and tension. I am a creature who enjoys fucking as much as any man. But it takes a special kind of girl to make me go hard at just the thought. The thirst I have to see her again is overwhelming.
Why?
What made her so special?
For one, her scent. She smelt like sweet honey and roses. She smelt like life. She also gave off subtle tones of desire and fear. She feared desiring me. And that is any man’s Achilles heel, to see a woman trying to hide how turned on she is. It’s a game of foreplay to me.
Secondly, she was out of her depth. She didn’t belong here, she didn’t want to be here, and she intrigued me; made me smile.
And last of all, but most importantly, her beauty. There’s nothing more impeccable than a woman who has no idea of her beauty. She looked like she had come for a job interview, but was the most stunning thing in the room. She didn’t need to wear a gown and fine jewellery like the other women. Just her presence was enough. She is the old school natural kind of perfection, which is rare for me to find now. And I need more of her. Much more.
“Adrien,” Sara interrupts my thoughts. “You have a guest in your room.”
What Sara actually means, is paid pleasure. Not a hooker, but a dedicated shameless employee, who understands that we executives need to wind down after these events.
“Not tonight Sara.”
“Well I’m not telling her to go. Besides, you look hungry. You should take advantage of this. You don’t often get to fuck and feed.”
“Sara, your being vulgar. And what was all that about with that jumped up little dick, Nathan. You can do better than that.”
She strolls behind the bar and pours herself a shot of gin.
“It’s none of your business.” She shrugs her shoulders. “He was cute.”
“Cute.” I snicker. “Since when did you go for cute?”
She drinks her gin and smiles. “He was accommodating, and you have no room to talk. I did see you. Is that why you want to take a rain check on what waits for you upstairs, that little piece with no dress sense you were flirting with? Poor girl.” I don’t smile back at her, I’m feeling too protective of the memory I have of Miss Lovell. “Fucking hell, you like her. Adrien, not once have I seen that look on your face. You know in our line of work and life that’s a dangerous thing to feel. Look at what happened to me.”
“Sara, who I show interest in, is no concern of yours.”
“So you’re interested to the point of what, screwing or something else?” I refuse to answer. My answer is written on my face, irritation. “You should have just fucked her.” She continues to rile me. “Now you’ve got this look in your eyes. Like you’re drifting off into some fantasy land where you can be normal. We don’t fall in love.”
“Do you know what Sara.” I stand up, finish my drink, and head to the doors. “You’re the last person who should offer advice on relationships.”
“Maybe. Just go upstairs, have some fun, and get that Elizabeth out of your head. You’ll feel better,” she calls out as I stroll into the lobby.
I stay here at Churchill’s several times a year after big events. The suite is mine and fully paid for. It’s comfortable, not that I use it for sleeping. I use it to simply pass the time.
I open the door to find what I expected, the bare skin of a woman partially wrapped in white cotton sheets. I sigh, bothered by her being in my bed, not feeling a single thing as she rises up to grin playfully at me.
I’ve been with this girl before, around a year ago. Pretty little thing with a sour taste to her skin, completely obsessed with pleasing me. Every time I go along with the sordid affair until the girl is worn out. That’s when I get my reprieve, when it’s over. Nothing truly gets me, or so I thought until tonight.
I slip my hand into my trouser pocket and take out a clip of fifties.
“Get dressed. Tonight is off.” I drop the money on the mattress by her feet, not liking the look of dismay on her face.
“Why?”
“No, I’m sorry, but I don’t need to explain a thing to you. Take the money and go. Sara will see you get home safely.”
I loosen my tie and turn my back on her, only to hear her approaching me. I can smell her breath, hear her heart, and sense her desperation. Her aura is nothing compared to Miss Lovell’s. It’s like choosing between diamond and stone. This girl has no life in her.
I turn to see her tilting her head, while moving her hair aside. She is trying to entice me, but tonight it’s not going to work. I snigger at her.
“Thanks, but no. I’m not hungry.”
“Are you hungry for this?” Unexpected and fast, she somehow slides her hand down my trousers and begins to stroke my cock.
I growl out. Now I’m angry. I grab her face and show her my fury.
“Take your hand off me.” Quivering and fidgeting she does as she’s told. “Take the money and go.” I release her face, as my intention is not to hurt her.
She scurries away, grabs her clothing, and changes as she rushes to the door. I blow out, listening to the door bang and the frame rattle.
“Fuck!” I run my hand down my face.
I guess Sara was right. I should have stayed with Elizabeth and as the evening ended, coaxed her to my room. Tasted her flesh and felt her skin against mine. But then I wouldn’t have this urge. An urge I’ve not felt for many years which is almost innocent. I see her as a quest, and leaving her tonight might make her desire and curiosity grow. And when I do see her again, it will be uncontainable. I can be a gentleman with great patience, and then I will see if she is really worth it. For now, her being in my mind’s eye entertains me enough.
Chapter 3
Elizabeth
Where’s the paracetamol? It’s very rare I need some, and when I do they’ve all gone.
I rummage through the cupboard above the microwave. It’s 5a.m., and if I don’t get at least an hours sleep, I’m going to have a major migraine all day.
I rise up on my tiptoes, accidently knocking a glass from the bottom shelf. It smashes against the counter and tiny fragments fall like rain across the floor.
“Shit!” I remain perfectly still, looking at the sea of glass I have to manoeuvre through to get to the dustpan and brush.
I hear the latch on the front door click open, along with hissing and sniggering. It’s not just Cate, she’s brought someone back with her. And here I am, standing with scarecrow hair in my shorts and vest, surrounded by a sheet of broken glass I can’t move from. I should have known; to avoid encounters like this, not to leave my room after 3a.m.
“Lizzy.” Cate staggers with her arms outstretched, then freezes noticing the mess I’ve made.
I see a head pop around the door frame and glare fiercely. “Pete,” I grumble.
Unfortunately, I do know him. He’s been here before. I think if Cate has no luck on the man front, he’s her fall-back plan. He waves at me, so I crinkle my face up some more until he slopes away.
Cate dodges the glass, not very well being tanked up on cocktails, and wearing her five inch wedges. But she fares better than I thought, grabs the handle of the dustpan, and hands it over to me.
I mumble as I bend over to sweep up. She knows I don’t like it when she brings Pete back here. He’s a bit weird; almost obsessed with her. I’ve seen him going through her stuff and sniffing it in the bathroom. I did tell her, but she thinks it’s kind of sweet.
“Sorry.” Her bottom lip curls over. “He’s proposed.”
“What!” I stand on a sliver of glass. “For fuck sake,” I hiss and hop.
“I said no.” She smiles, wobbling against the black tiled surface. “But if I’m still a spinster in ten years, he can try again.”
I breathe in relief. It would have been a catastrophic day if I had to explain to her when she sobers up, that she is getting married to the British version of Norman Bates.
I make myself a safe space to stand in and clear up the remaining glass.
“What yo
u doing anyway? You after some painkillers, because I took the last two this morning,” Cate admits.
I pull a carrier bag out from the drawer and tip in the glass, not really wanting this half-drunken conversation. I tie the top and drop it into the pedal bin.
“There’s something wrong with you.” She stops me from leaving. “Have you and Nathan...”
“God no!” I stop her, and continue on my escape route.
She grabs my arm. “You’re not usually awake at this time, and the only time you need painkillers is when you’re stressed. What happened tonight?”
How does she expect me to act? Happy because I’m so ridiculously tired. I’m certainly not going to tell her that some exceedingly handsome highflier kissed my hand, and I can’t sleep because I’m on edge thinking about it. How he made me feel I wanted to crawl out of my own skin. How he made me so self-conscious, but I found his attention strangely addictive. He’s a multimillionaire and I was just his amusement for a time, that’s all.
“You met someone didn’t you?” she chirps. “Details, or I’ll just go and ask Nathan.”
God, she gets on my nerves when she’s like this. And she’ll do it. If I don’t give her some sort of bait, she’ll be through that door and on the phone to Nathan within seconds.
“Nothing happened. I just sat there and ate, while Nathan flirted with Sara the receptionist.”
I heat up thinking of Mr Knight, and now Cate has her Miss Marple face displayed. She’ll not stop cross-examining me, until she forces the truth from my mouth.
“So, did you get what you needed for your article?” she asks. “Because those bright red cheeks tell me you didn’t.”
“Adrien Knight,” I cringe, blurting out his name. “He was the only one who spoke to me, and he gave me nothing.” I’m burning up, praying she’ll let me go back to bed.
“Shit, you talked to Adrien Knight!”
I purse my lips to the side, wondering why it’s such a big deal. So he’s rich, deliciously good looking, and likes to make girls like me wriggle in my seat. It’s done with now. Our paths will thankfully never have to cross again.
The Executive's Red, #1 Page 2
