A Very Corporate Affair Book 2 (The Corporate Series) (12 page)

                When the gates closed behind us at Conniscliffe, I breathed a sigh of relief. The castle looked solid and safe, rather like Oscar at that moment. Jones took my bag, and we followed him in.

 
              "I put you in the room next door to mine, just in case," said Oscar, steering me into the drawing room. "Mothers gone to a women's institute meeting, but said to tell you she'd see you in the morning."

 
              "Ok, so what's the plan for tonight?" I asked. Oscar looked quizzical.

 
              "Whatever you like. I can show you more of the castle, we can play billiards, watch a film, you tell me what you'd like."

  
              "I'd love to see more of the castle, if that's ok."

  
              "Sure. I arranged to eat quite early, so I'll take you on the guided tour afterwards. Now, glass of wine?"

"Please." Oscar went and found Jones to ask for our drinks. "Do you want me to get changed for dinner?"

                 "Not tonight, it's only the two of us, so no need to stand on ceremony."

  
              "Do you eat in the big dining room when you're here alone?"

  
              Oscar laughed, "no, I eat in the snug with a tray on my lap, watching television. Did you think I put a suit on and sit in silence at the table all on my own?" I shrugged. "Is that where you'd like to eat this evening?"

  
              "That would be lovely. I feel like I've not relaxed all week. A soft sofa, and some trashy telly sounds wonderful"

"Your wish is my command madam," said Oscar with a smirk. "Besides, I like Friday night TV." He took my hand, and led me down a corridor, and into a small sitting room, with three large, slightly scruffy sofas, a big, low
, coffee table in the centre of them, and a flat screen TV perched on a cabinet, which looked decidedly non antique. It was the cosiest, most informal room I'd seen at the castle. I curled up on the sofa, and sipped my wine, as Oscar flicked through the channels, before settling on the one show.

Before long, Jones arrived with some food on a trolley, along with two lap trays, and a bottle of wine. It was quite comical seeing a butler serve dinner on trays as if he was serving at a dinner party, but I kept quiet. If it was Oscar's idea of relaxed, I didn't want to mock.

 
              Our roast chicken was delicious, and I was starving. "You pack it away don't you?" Oscar remarked, "I don't know where you put it. I like a woman who eats."

 
              "I was starving. I've not eaten at all well this week. With James away, I've lived on ready meals and sandwiches, plus I've been a bit stressed."

 
              "Can't you cook?"

 
              "Oh yes. I'm quite a good cook, but I've not had much in the house, no time to shop, and I hate cooking for just myself. James is really good at keeping the fridge filled up, and he loves to whip up nice meals. It's a sort of hobby of his. What about you? Are you domesticated?" I'd never asked Oscar how he managed during the week in his apartment before.

 
              "I'm not bad, can manage simple stuff. My cleaning lady usually shops for me, so considering I grew up with servants, I'm quite housetrained really."

 
              We were interrupted by Jones, who cleared away our plates, and served profiteroles for desert, with a small glass of desert wine to accompany, then returned twenty minutes later with coffees. I decided having a butler was extremely cool. After dinner, Oscar showed me around the wine cellars. I had kind of expected one room, with some wine racks and bottles, but the cellars were vast, and lined with thousands of bottles.

 
              "Why are there so many bottles down here? You couldn't drink them all in a lifetime," I said, marvelling at the sheer scale of it.

 
              "Investment mainly. A lot of these wines appreciate in value, so it's just another way of holding assets. My father built a lot of this collection. I add to it every year by buying fine wines, and laying them down. It means I get to drink good vintages, plus add to the family fortune, so it's a win win." He took my hand, and led me back up a small, stone staircase to the back of the cellars. "These used to be the dungeons. I used to love it down here when I was little, although my sister refused to venture down here again after I dressed up in a bed sheet and jumped out at her. It's quite a spooky place at the best of times."

 
              I shivered slightly. Even in the heat of mid June, it was dank and chilly. "I wouldn't fancy being locked up down here, it's eerie now, let alone in the days before electric lights."

 
              "I would have thought the entire castle was spooky back then. It's a bit scary even now. We have several resident ghosts, and lots of the servants have reported strange happenings over the years."

 
              "Have you ever seen anything?" I asked. Oscar nodded.

 
              "I used to see a young girl, dressed in a sort of maid's dress when I was a child, but not recently. My sister used to see her too. Some of the staff have seen a Tudor man, but I've never seen him. I hear odd noises all the time, but I suppose I'm used to them, so they don't bother me. It's such an old place that it's bound to knock and creak a bit."

 
              "Thanks for that Oscar. I'm gonna be sat up all night with the lights on now." I said, shoving him gently.

 
              "You're not scared of bumps in the night are you Elle?" Oscar smirked.
Bastard.

             
"Course not. I'm far too rational for that."

 
              "Good. In which case, I can show you the west wing."

 
              I followed Oscar through myriad corridors, lined in ancient wood panelling. "This wing is pretty much disused, so it's really creepy." He opened a door, and stepped aside to allow me to enter. The furniture was covered in dust sheets, and in the twilight, it looked like the setting for a horror film. He lifted a sheet to reveal a cabinet full of stuffed animals, their faces frozen forever, and their bodies posed stalking, sitting, or mid flight. I shuddered, feeling a chill despite the heat outside.

 
              We explored more of the rooms that made up the west wing of the castle, Oscar explaining what the rooms would have been used for in the days when a vast extended family would have lived there, with dozens of servants. "So is it freezing in the winter?"

 
              "My apartments are centrally heated, as is the apartment my mother uses. My sister's quite hardy, and still uses traditional log fires. I prefer to be warm and comfortable, so have both. The walls are about six foot thick, so it's surprisingly well insulated. We can't have double glazing though, as it's grade one listed, which is a bit of a nuisance."

 
              "Can we go back to the snug? It's unnerving here, and I'm jumpy enough with Dascha's henchmen after me, let alone spectres and ghosts adding to the mix."

 
              Oscar laughed, "oh Elle, I'm sorry. Let’s go get you a stiff drink." We wandered back to Oscar's apartments, and back to the snug, where he poured us each a large brandy. We sat quietly, watching a comedy show, and I had begun to relax, when lightning flashed. "Rains started," said Oscar, "typical isn't it? A few days of hot weather, and we get a thunderstorm. At least it'll clear the air though, it's been quite muggy this evening."

Oh this just gets better.
In a creepy, haunted castle in a thunderstorm, with maniacs after me. Great.

 
             
"I'm never gonna sleep now. Could I have another brandy please?" I wanted to go back to London, where a storm would be a welcome respite to stifling humidity rather than the backdrop to a cheesy horror film. Oscar looked amused as he poured out another large helping of cognac.

 
              "Are you scared of thunderstorms?"

 
              "No. If I was in London, I'd barely notice it. However, I'm hiding from the Russian mafia in an enormous, haunted, and frankly rather creepy old castle, so forgive me for being a touch nervier than normal." I smiled rather wanly.

 
              "Elle, you're totally safe here. Firstly, only Ivan knows you're here, and second, nobody has ever been attacked or killed by a ghost. There's no need to worry. This whole castle is heavily protected, and let’s face it, they'd never find which room you were in. There are 200 to choose from. It would take them all night to look."

 
              I relaxed slightly, "I know you're right. I'm just being silly."

 
              "Look it's nearly eleven. Why don't you try and get some sleep?" Oscar yawned, and I noticed that he looked tense, and a bit red eyed. I nodded, and we headed upstairs. He showed me into the bedroom next to his. It was vast, with an emperor sized canopied bed, covered in heavy, red velvet drapes, and a matching bedspread. Oscar closed the curtains, and turned back the covers, before planting a kiss on my forehead, and bidding me goodnight, adding that he would be next door if I needed him. I brushed my teeth, and changed into pyjamas before clambering into the enormous bed, and turning the light off.

 
              I lay in the dark listening to the storm, timing the lightning flashes, and accompanying thunderclaps, and wished I was at home. Every creak made me tense, and I burrowed under the covers to try and block out the sounds. When I heard a thud, I shot out of bed, and ran into Oscar's room. He was sitting up in bed reading, and looked surprised to see me.

 
              "I heard a thud," I said, feeling rather stupid, "and I can't sleep. Can I stay here?" He pulled back the covers, and I got in, and lay on my side facing him. "I'm sorry, I'm being such a girl," I said, scanning his face to try and gauge what he was thinking. He put down his book, and lay facing me. Grasping my hand, he smiled reassuringly.

 
              "You're more than welcome to stay here, better than laying awake all night. The thud was me dropping my book, so nothing to worry about. Try and sleep, and it'll all seem better in the morning." He turned off the light, and lay quietly, still holding my hand.

 
              I woke up completely wrapped around Oscar, practically clinging on to him. He stirred as I peeled myself off his body, and sleepy blue eyes gazed into mine. "Did you manage to sleep in the end?"

 
              "I did, thanks. I'm sorry I disturbed you last night."

 
              "Don't be silly. It was lovely just to hold you again. You had a difficult week, so it was understandable that you needed a cuddle." We lay there a while, not touching, just each lost in our own thoughts. I felt incredibly torn. Oscar felt comfortable and familiar, as well as solid and dependable. He was still handsome and sexy, yet the knowledge that he'd had sex with a man weighed heavily on my mind, plus his other sexual 'quirks' added to the mix, dampened any desire I had for him.

 
              "What are you thinking?" I asked, as he gazed at me.

 
              "That you look lovely all mussed up, and in your pink pyjamas. This might be the last time I get to share a bed with you, so I'm committing it to memory." My heart broke a little as he said it. Oscar wasn't an emotional man, and rather prone to being suspicious or dismissive of women, so this new, softer side was lovely to see. "What are you thinking Elle?"

 
              "That I wish I'd never seen what I did, and that you didn't have the issues that you do."

 
              "I wish that too. I've never wished for anything more than to rewind time to the night before, so that I could have done everything differently. I would have said no to Darius, held you tight, and never let you go."

 
              "There were other issues too. I struggled with some of your quirks. I hated the fact that you seemed to find me distasteful, you know, down there." I blushed as I said it, but his refusal to do cunnilingus had made me feel as though I had been unclean.

 
              "Distasteful? Is that what you thought? Oh Elle, I've never found any part of you less than beautiful. The truth is that I've never tried it, never actually licked a pussy, and like anything, it becomes a habit. Like I said before, public school fucks you up."

 
              "I see. Oh well, I won't take it personally then. So, changing the subject, what shall we do today?"

 
              "There's something I'd love to do, but I'm not sure you'd let me..." Oscar looked apprehensive.

 
              "Go on."
Please don't ask me for a shag.