Delecto - Games of Mastery (part 1) (5 page)

“
I don’t
think so.” I had enough of my father’s controlling attitude. And Mr
Shaw seemed to be of the same mold.

“
Well, I
do. So work on it,” he said in a strong tone of voice. I couldn’t
believe it. Was he ordering me to become personal with our client?
“Stay as long as you need to. I’ll ask Ruth to look after
Abigail.”

I smiled and
gritted my teeth.

“
Right
. I’ll speak to you later, when I get
home.”

I tapped the
display screen to end the call, annoyance clawing at me. Not that
that was unusual after conversations with my father.

“
Your
boyfriend?” he asked. A
lthough I knew I
shouldn't enjoy the fact he was fishing, a small bubble of pleasure
arose in my chest. I was flattered, and it felt
nice.
.

“
No, but
he's someone I'm very close to.”

“
I see. A
male friend?”

“
My best
friend happens to be a man, yes,” I replied nonchalantly and
truthfully. The fact it was my father and not Calvin on the phone
was beside the point.

“
And what
does your boyfriend think about your best friend, who happens to be
a man?” he probed, with the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

“
If I had
one, he’d have to deal.” That was a very relevant question. The
fights Franklin and I had had over Calvin. “As it is, I don’t.
Anything else you want to fish for while we’re on the subject of my
personal life? Let’s get it all out in the air shall
we?”

He laughed out
loud. And it was a strong and pleasant noise to hear. Everything
about Sebastian was strong and pleasant in some way. My mind
started to wander where it shouldn't.

“
I can
wait.”

I regarded him
with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

Yes, you can
wait alright. How about permanently?

As I placed my
cell away and caught Sebastian’s eye again, there was one thing I
was sure of.

Our meal was
likely to be very interesting, for the both of us.

* *

“
I have
four main beneficiaries. My mother, my two brothers and my
uncle.”

I wrote that on
my notepad.

“
We’ll
add names later. Any surviving grandparents? And what about
cousins, nieces or nephews?”

“
No, but
one of my brothers is married, so I could become an
uncle.”

“
We can
write that offspring in as a future possibility.”

“
Do you
wish to add a provision for a spouse?” I asked, resisting the
terribly strong urge to laugh. I was sure I knew the answer to that
already.

“
No,” he
answered shortly.

“
You are
sure?” I pushed.

“
In the
unlikely event I marry, and that would be nothing short of a
miracle, I would arrange a separate provision for a spouse, and
will add an addendum to this document. But for now, consider that
an absolute no.”

“
Is there
any likelihood of children? You’re not considering adopting or
employing a surrogate in the near future?”

“
None
whatsoever,” he said coldly. I knew it was naughty of me, and these
questions were not normally asked, but for some reason I was
enjoying pushing his annoyance buttons.

“
As you
wish.”

So...let’s
discuss allocation, in terms of absolute financial sums,
percentages of your estate, and how you wish that to be
administrated.”

We worked
through that for a while, adjusting the percentages until he felt
happy with it.

His previous
personal interest in me had been put firmly aside with the need to
buckle down and do some serious thinking. I explained in great
detail the wording of each paragraph and clause, and asked him to
confirm he understood it before moving on to the next. We were an
efficient team and I had to confess to being impressed with his
professionalism, his knowledge of Latin originating words and
phrases, and his astute intelligence.

I was also
incredibly impressed with the large size of his small fortune.

This was the
first of several legal affairs he required of me over the following
weeks. The second was a reassignment of a portion of his business
to a trust fund and the third was a change in ownership rights for
his many properties, which he had been advised to do by his
accountant.

We sat for two
long hours going through the will, and were on the home straights,
almost done.

“
I think
I need a rest. My eyes are starting to hurt,” he explained, rubbing
them with the back of his hand.

“
Because
of the migraine?”

“
Mm, it
tends to hang over me for a while after it has passed, affecting my
vision.”

“
How
often do you suffer with these migraines?”

“
Far too
frequently.”

“
I’ve
never had one,” I admitted.

“
Lucky
you,” he replied with a smile. “The pain is akin to having a large
ax buried deeply in your skull, hacking away at it
mercilessly.”

I flinched at
the thought. “Ouch. I can only imagine what that might be like, and
hope and pray it never happens to me.”

“
I
wouldn’t wish it on you, no matter what.”

He placed his
hand lightly over mine.

My sense of
touch heightened wildly, sending my awareness of him skyrocketing.
I tried, rather unsuccessfully, to tamp it down, desperately trying
not to feel anything at the touch of this man. My growing sense of
enjoyment was making me feel uncomfortable, in various ways. Not
only could I not allow myself to feel this response, I couldn't
possibly contemplate being involved with a fast and loose player
like him. I wouldn’t ever date him. He wasn’t my type. I didn’t
know for sure, but based entirely upon intuition, he was a serial
philanderer and, I imagined, out of my league in the bedroom.
However, my experience with men wasn’t that extensive, so I could
be completely wrong about everything.

I withdrew my
hand from under his as his voice broke through my thoughts.

“
Shall we
have a breather for a half hour? I’d like to give my eyes a rest
and show you the house and grounds, and perhaps we can have a drink
outside on the terrace?”

“
That
would be nice,” I agreed. I was more than keen to explore this
country house in its entirety, and my throat was completely parched
with my non-stop legal discourse. I needed refreshing, both in mind
and body.

I watched as he
stood up, slowly and carefully, drawing himself up to his full
height. He steadied himself for a moment.

He walked
around his desk and offered me his hand. I could hardly ignore it,
so I placed mine in his. His touch was becoming more pleasurable
than I cared to admit.

“
Are you
ready?” he grinned at me, a little rakishly.

“
I guess
I am,” I responded, as he pulled me up to his side.

He stood above
me by a good four inches. I was not a short woman, and with my
heels, could be considered tall. He was broader and more imposing
than I expected. Standing so close I felt small and slight in
comparison. I straightened my back in response. I stood proudly
before him, intending to project my strength of character and
started as I meant to go on.

He remained
blocking my path, looking into my eyes.

To my horror, I
just drowned in his unexpectedly. I couldn’t stop myself from
splashing around in his emerald beauties.

This was not
good. In fact it was downright bad. Make that completely
forbidden.

“
One
moment...if I may...” he said in a whisper. I watched him lift his
finger to my face in curious, spellbound fascination. I couldn’t
move. I stood frozen to the spot, my eyes widening. My breath was
locked in my chest, my heart hammering like crazy, as his fingertip
brushed my cheek.

He leaned in
closer, his face hovering just inches away as he stared at my cheek
in concentration. His scent invaded my nostrils. It was a deeply
masculine aroma, full of low notes, and something spicy on top. The
trace of his breath subtly streamed on my face. He was so close I
could see each eyelash and the subtle flecks of brown in his deep
emerald irises. His silky hair glistened under the light with a
golden glow. I fixated on his lips. They were so close and looked
soft and tempting, begging me silently to feel and taste them with
my tongue.

His finger
gently swiped at the skin beneath my eye.

“
There,”
he said finally, a smile curving up on his mouth. “A stray eyelash,
that’s all. I’ve removed it for you.”

I let out my
held breath as quietly as I could. My legs had become boneless and
were in the process of collapsing beneath me.

He took my arm,
pulling me out of my ridiculous, sublime stupor, and led me to the
door.

“
Thank
you,” I finally managed to utter.

I wasn’t
feeling like a saber-toothed tigress or a conquering lawyer at that
moment. More a whimpering conquest in the making. I whipped myself
silently and ordered my backbone to reappear.

I tried to
reason and console myself over losing the first round of our
pre-dinner engagement so pathetically badly.

He was absurdly
good looking. And I was hungry for a man’s attention, if I was
brutally honest. Of course I’d be turned on and attracted to him,
especially when he was within three inches of me. And of course I’d
be a little overwhelmed and speechless. Who wouldn’t be overwhelmed
by Sebastian Shaw? I had to keep some distance between us because
he had the ability to affect me in a big way, and I couldn't allow
that.

Upstairs, we
toured the bedrooms first. I was shown two guest suites. They were
decorated simply, in beautiful cream and black colors like the rest
of the house. I wandered in and out of the rooms murmuring how
lovely they were.

I almost choked
when he announced, “So, this is my bedroom, it's my favorite space,
what do you think?”

I’m in the
master bedroom suite, am I? What do I think? What a compromising
position.

“
It’s a
beautiful room, they all are,” I muttered in reply.

“
I like
to surround myself with beautiful things, everywhere I look.” His
unsubtle compliment didn’t go unnoticed. Nor did the fact he was
staring hard at me while he delivered it.

I moved away
from him, putting some much-needed space between us, and looked
around at his furniture. His piece of modern art on the wall by the
door caught my eye. It was the only painting I'd seen in the house.
I walked up to it and studied it. I could determine a nude woman in
the mix of bright colors and textures surrounding her, although it
was very tasteful, and atmospheric to look at. Almost euphoric in
tone.

His hands
suddenly came to rest on my shoulders, and I sucked in my stomach,
as a wild sensation flooded through me. I was much too tense
today.

“
It's
beautiful, isn't it? An original Pavlychev,” he
explained.

“
I don't
know much about modern artists.”

“
Nor do
I, but I appreciate his style and the subject matter.” I turned and
maneuvered myself past him, escaping his touch, and pushing my over
reaction to his presence far away.

A large vase of
roses stood on a table in the corner, their scent filling the air
and I moved towards them, standing at the table with my back to
him. They were gorgeous, unopened buds; a dark red, with a dusting
of black velvet on the outer edges of the petals. I reached out and
brushed one of the blooms my finger. They were such sensual
flowers, roses. He seemed to have a penchant for them.

“
They're
Papa Meilland. An intense color, aren't they? D'you like roses
particularly?” I turned to find him watching me thoughtfully, his
arms crossed.

“
I do,
but I prefer white actually.”

“
I can't
decide which I like best. Sometimes red, sometimes
white...”

I looked beyond
him, to his bed. It was very large and imposing and dressed with a
lot of expensive-looking linen. I started to have the most lurid
and wild visions of the things he did on that bed. I couldn't stop
them. I stared at the bed and at him in turn, as heat built within
me, like a flame, my breathing becoming faster and a flush rising
in my cheeks. He caught my expression with a knowing smile. His
eyes flared with amusement, subtly, but it was enough for me to
understand what he was thinking. I looked away, rapidly, to the
smoky mirrored wardrobes flanking the whole of one wall. They were
an equally sensual experience. How very satisfying for him to see
himself in action.

He walked to
the full-length window to the side of the bed.

“
Come and
see my lovely view.”

“
You have
a lovely view as well?” I said, coming to his side, with a wide
smile.

But I soon came
to see that lovely was a real understatement. The sight that
greeted my eyes was so much more than that. A sweeping expanse of
striped lawn, stunning specimen trees and shrubs, and a vast number
of red and white rose bushes. It was too beautiful to be true, a
blaze of red white and green, artistically arranged in a formal
style. Each area was bordered with a low clipped hedge and dotted
with artistically positioned sculptures, stretching down to a large
lake beyond. I craned my neck and glanced down at his terrace, a
perfect contrast in creamy limestone, home to a table and chairs,
and covered with plants in pots.