Attraction (Love & War, Part I) (2 page)

Scanning his
collection of cologne bottles, lined up neatly along his white
marble bathroom counter, and opted for Aventus Creed. He applied a
few generous dabs, to the base of his throat and behind his ears.
Then he sprayed the sports strength deodorant enthusiastically, and
took a deep breath of the strong fumes. He was sure he was addicted
to the damn stuff. He looked in the mirror at himself. His hair
needed its usual fixing up. Picking up the hair gel, he squeezed
some out of the tube and fingered it through so it stood up,
perfectly straight. When he was finally looking his absolute best,
he returned to the bedroom to get dressed.

He actually
felt enthusiastic in his mood. This was a welcome sign, because
despite his monumental success in his business life, of late he'd
been feeling unfulfilled, under challenged and dissatisfied in some
inexplicable way, and his professional enthusiasm had taken a
distinct nosedive as a result. Perhaps he'd accomplished too much
too soon?

His phone
bleeped, as it did dozens of times during the day. He ignored it
normally, or he'd get nothing done. He answered his messages in
batches, and only those that really needed answering. He was highly
disciplined, in all areas of his life.

He knew who
this text was from. It was his usual eight o'clock 'I'm here'. He
didn't even bother to look at the message.

Placing the
phone in his shirt breast pocket, he picked up his jacket and left
his bedroom, passing through his inner hallway, and entering his
kitchen. He heard the front door open and click shut and Adrian
appeared in the kitchen a moment later, with a cardboard holder
containing their liquid lifesavers.

“Mornin' Ash,”
his deep voice rumbled in Ashton's ears.

“Good morning,
Adrian,” he replied, casting his eye over him. His slate blue Dolce
& Gabbana suit looked particularly good on him. Adrian was a
smart and modern dresser. Not quite as smart as Ashton, but that
was understandable as Adrian didn't have the funds he had access
to.

Adrian Anthony
Quilter was his right hand man. His go to man for everything he
needed outside the office. At thirty two, he was an amusing, street
wise character who seemed to know everything and everyone, just
about everywhere. He knew he had a very shady past, Adrian had
admitted to that, but his pluses outweighed that minor point. He
was employed as his chauffeur, his man Friday and his
bodyguard.

In truth,
Ashton was more than able to look after himself in the physical
sense, but by having Adrian around, he knew his back was covered,
at all times. And he was far more than just his aide. He felt he
was a friend. He trusted him implicitly, with his life, and
everything else that belonged to him. After six years they had a
developed an understanding of each other. Adrian was his living
shadow. He took him everywhere he went.

“One vente
latte for me … and one vente Americano for you... there 'ya go.” he
said, removing them from the tray with his long fingers, putting
them down carefully on the grey granite worktop. He hauled himself
onto the black and chrome stool where he took a sip at his drink
and blew out a long puff of breath noisily.

Ashton could
feel a moan coming on and it didn't take long to appear.

“Another crap
day, blanket cloud again. Where the hell's the sun gone? It's been
days and days of fucking grey skies,” he grumbled.

Ashton snorted
out a small laugh. “It's England not Spain, my friend.”

“I know, but
it's fucking July. The weather's depressing me.”

Ashton gave
him one of his looks. He wasn't up to talking about the piss-poor
state of the weather in the morning. Or ever, for that matter. The
weather was irrelevant, unless it affected his plans in some
adverse way. Adrian took the hint and sat quietly sipping his latte
while Ashton swallowed his multivitamin pill, chasing it down with
a glass of water. He retrieved a carton of Greek yoghurt, granola
and honey from the fridge and spooned it in his mouth rapidly. Then
he picked up his extra large coffee and took a sniff. His mouth
watered with the pleasantly acrid, roasted aroma that reached his
nostrils through the hole in the lid.

Mm mm, coffee,
one of mankind's greatest, most wonderful discoveries.

He stood there
silently savouring it for a while.

“
How's Caroline?” he enquired of Adrian's ex wife, who was
currently in hospital having a minor operation.

“
She's fine. Everything went without a hitch.”

“
You can visit her this morning, if you like? I don't need
you.”

“
Nah, she's okay, she's got him now, ain't she?” he said, with
a fair degree of bitterness in his tone, “Fucking dick-head Caleb,”
he muttered under his breath. “I'll catch her after she comes home,
next week, take a half day off maybe.”

“
Sure, just let me know when.”

“
Got much on today?”

“
Not too much today, but I'm starting a new project, in Paris.
It'll likely mean an afternoon flight tomorrow.”

“
Paris, eh?”

“
Yasmin will let you know the schedule later.”

“
Okie dokie, got a little bit of excitement brewing now. It's
been a while since we've been up.”

“
Mmm, it'll be good,” Ashton smiled with understanding.
Indulging his passion for flying was one of his great loves.
Unfortunately he didn't have enough time to devote to it. Keeping
his flying hours up for licensing was a struggle at
times.

“
There's nothing quite like the rush I get having all that
Rolls Royce powered thrust under my control. I'd take that over
fucking a Playboy model any day,” Adrian said, dreamily.

Ashton was
quite sure Adrian had never fucked a Playboy model. But he had had
plenty of experience in that respect, and knew which he preferred.
He had to demur.

“
I don't agree with you on that point, but I do appreciate
your enthusiasm. And you're coming along very well as my unofficial
co-pilot.”

“
I'd be even better if someone actually gave me some lessons,”
he added pointedly.

“After the
French project is completed, we'll devote some proper time to it. I
need to get some serious air hours in or I'll lose my PPL,” he
turned his head to look at the time on the kitchen clock and
Adrian's eyes followed his gaze. It was getting late. “We'd better
be going,” he announced. After picking up his iPad from the glass
console table, they left the apartment, descending the six flights
of stairs down to the basement car park. Ashton never used an
elevator if he was going less than ten floors. Every opportunity to
exercise helped boost the metabolism, especially being desk-bound
as much as he was.

He slipped
into the back of the Mercedes, got himself comfortable and started
to go through his appointments for the day on the iPad. As issues
sprang to mind he put some notes in his diary for later reference.
Soon his
mind was whirring away over his new
deal.

I need a
specialist lawyer. One who knows commercial French law. Someone who
can speak French well, because my French skills are pretty rusty.
Schoolboy rusty. Or, to be completely truthful, non existent.

Fifteen
minutes later the car arrived outside the rear of the small four
storied GIG building. It was a very unassuming old building. He
liked that fact and it amused him every day he arrived there.
Adrian pointed the remote access device, keyed in the pass-code and
the metal gate rose enabling them to sweep down the ramp and into
the underground parking bay. Ashton rubbed the back of his neck. He
felt a little knot of tension had formed. He was so in tune with
his body. Too in tune at times. He couldn't ignore what it was
telling him. And the message he was receiving was that he
desperately needed to hit the gym today. He missed out for two days
and his excess energy was dying to escape.

“
Let's hit the gym at eleven,” he said.

“
Cool with me,” Adrian replied.

They left the
car and walked up small rear staircase to the third floor. The
fire-door opened with a soft swoosh and they left the stairwell,
and entered his domain. His kingdom.

It was here
that he ruled supreme.

Ashton Michael
Gates, the CEO of Gateway Investment Group, his own private stock
acquisitions company. He was a millionaire, many times over, solely
as a result of his astute business acumen.

The well
educated son of a titled mother and an American movie producing
father, he had had the best start in life that anyone ever could.
His father had set him up in his company by providing the initial
capital, and he'd gone on to make a great success of it, and paid
him back every penny he had borrowed within three short years.
Although they got on very well, he didn't see his father very
often. Sadly, his parents were not suited to stay together for
life, and were now happily divorced, and living on separate
continents. This arrangement seemed to work so much better for
them, and the rest of the family.

“
See you downstairs at eleven then,” Adrian said as he
wandered off to the end of the corridor, to his 'poky old hole', as
he jokingly called it. In actual fact, his poky old hole was a very
decently sized, dual aspect office. One where he sat in front of
his CCTV monitoring system on a comfortable black leather reclining
sofa, watching SKY sports and questionable videos on the
internet.

“
Good morning Ash, how are you?” Yasmin looked up from her
desk with her beaming whiter than white smile as he arrived in his
office reception area. She always seemed so pleased to see him,
which he found quite touching. He was particularly pleased to see
her this morning, because she looked absolutely
stunning.

“
Up to scratch and you're looking very sweet today, is that a
Jaeger?” he complimented her on her feminine pale pink suit. It
made a welcome change from the severe, dark colours she normally
wore and suited her caramel skin beautifully.

She smiled
widely at him. “It's actually an ancient but very expensive Jacques
Vert. I'm going out after work, with Isaac. I thought I'd make a
little bit more of an effort with my appearance.”

“
What a shame, I thought you'd dressed up especially for me,”
he teased with wide smile and a flare of his eyes, and she rolled
hers at him, humorously. “This must be the fourth date with Isaac,
is it serious?”

“
Oh no, not by a long shot. But I do like him, which is
something, because you know I never do like my dates,” she replied
with a grin.

“
I'm pleased to hear he's acceptable to your very high
standards,” he added, as he headed off, through the door to his
inner sanctum.

Once inside he
turned on his iMac, and while he waited the few seconds for it to
boot up, he pressed the intercom button on his desk phone.

“
Yes?” she answered immediately.

“
Would you come in, please, Yasmin,” he requested politely.
Ashton believed in politeness and courtesy at all times.

The door
opened and he watched as she approached his desk, her tall slim
body gliding across the floor, gracefully, on her high heels. She
was very attractive. Very appealing to his baser instincts. But
although he'd like to explore parts of her in intimate detail, and
had thought about fucking her a lot, he wouldn't ever do that. That
would be an abuse of his position and he had certain standards
which he adhered to. To be more specific, he didn't fuck his staff.
Besides, it wasn't her looks which impressed him the most about
her. She was the best P.A. money could buy and he always had to
have the best, of everything. His team were rewarded very
handsomely for being the best at what they did.

She arrived in
front of him and he locked onto her dark brown, immaculately made
up eyes.

“
Last night I sent a notice of intention to Fabliss de Paris,
a French property holding company. I'm planning on visiting Paris
tomorrow afternoon for initial DD. So I'll need a French speaking,
European Law expert to accompany me.”

“
Will do, is that all?

“
Inform the usual people they're needed. Log the flight plan
for mid-day and call Robert Charron, the owner of Fabliss with our
plans. And make sure you put a move on with the lawyer please, it's
urgent.”

She laughed at
him.

“
Put a move
on
? I work at one speed and that's fast and
efficient, as you well know.”

“
It's my job to keep you on the tip of your toes, Yasmin,” he
teased, with a sensuous and slow slip of his tongue over his
lip.

She grinned,
licking hers in return. She leaned over, placing her hands flat on
his desk, and gave him an eyeful of sexy lingerie and full breast
down the front of her blouse.

It was a little game they played, which they both enjoyed
immensely.

“
I'm standing on the tip of my toes for you now, how's that,
good enough?” she purred sexily.

“
I'll take your word for it. My eyes are otherwise engaged.” A
surge of hardened lust erupted in his groin. He sorted himself out,
subtly moving in his chair, to accommodate his growing arousal, and
drew his attention back to her wickedly smiling face.

“
I'll have someone for you by lunchtime. Want me to schedule a
meeting pre-trip?”

“
Make it at three this afternoon, in between my other two
meetings.”