The British Billionaire Bachelor, Act Three (7 page)

Sitting across from her, Joseph couldn’t complain. The meal had been delicious, and Lucinda had been relatively courteous, the result, Joseph assumed, of encroaching jet lag. The conversation had centered on her budding career, the film about to be released, and how she was hoping the studio would opt for an official opening with a big Premiere. The time had passed easily, their plates had been cleared, and the young waiter was waiting at their table for further orders.

“Would you care for dessert?” he asked.

“No, but I’d like another glass of wine,” Lucinda yawned.

Joseph frowned. She’d already consumed two, and they were about to leave.

“Very well, Madame, and you Sir?”

“Nothing for me, thank you,” Joseph replied, and watched the waiter head to the bar.

“I’ll be right back,” he remarked, rising from his seat.

“Sure, whatever,” she replied, yawning again.

Catching up to the waiter, he asked for an estimate of the bill, pulled out several notes to cover it including a generous tip, and instructed him to forget about the wine. Striding purposefully back to the table, Joseph picked up the coat Lucinda had draped over an empty chair next to her.

“Time to leave,” he announced.

“What? No, I’ve ordered another glass of wine,” she complained, turning around to face him.

“It’s not coming. You’re already buzzed and exhausted, and it’s time to call it a night.”

“Oh, for crap’s sake,” she scoffed, “I can drink a gallon of wine.”

“I’m sure you can, but not on my watch,” he replied, and leaning down to whisper in her ear, he added, “you can walk out with me, or I’ll carry you, your choice.”

“You’re impossible,” she snapped.

Standing up, she snatched the coat from his hands and headed to the door, but unexpectedly tumbled into him, a wave of dizziness catching her off guard.

“Shit,” she groaned, dropping her head in her hands.

“A gallon, huh?” he remarked.

“Shut up,” she replied tersely.

“Come on,” he sighed, and putting his arm around her waist, helped her to the door.

Stepping outside, the chilly night air and drenching drizzle wrapped around them, and he hustled her quickly to the car, driving carefully home through the slick, city streets. A short time later they were stepping into the dry warmth of the house, and Henry, a man Joseph was beginning to think was psychic, was standing just inside the door.

“Nasty night, Sir,” the butler declared as Joseph removed her coat, then his own, hanging them on the hall tree.

“Never thought to take an umbrella,” Joseph remarked. “I will next time.”

“Yes, this time of year it is advisable,” Henry replied. “Would you care for anything, perhaps some warm milk for the young lady?”

“I think some warm milk would be a very good idea,” Joseph smiled, “and some aspirin.”

“You will find aspirin in the medicine cabinets of the bathrooms, Sir,” Henry offered, “and the milk will be brought up shortly.”

Lucinda, who’d been staring at the floor and saying nothing during the exchange, lifted her head and ran her fingers through her hair.

“I think I need to get upstairs,” she mumbled.

“I’m sure you do,” Joseph commented.

Taking her elbow he led her to the elevator, and as the doors closed, she leaned against the wall.

“Tired?” he asked.

“I guess,” she replied. “It’s kind of creeping up on me.”

Their suite of rooms was on the second floor just a short distance from the elevator, and as they entered the living room she walked immediately to the couch, flopped down, and let out a long sigh. Joseph was about to head to the bathroom for some aspirin, when glancing around, he thought the room looked different, though he wasn’t sure why.

“Shit!” she exclaimed, breaking into his thoughts.

“Just generally, or because you’re not feeling well?” Joseph asked.

“Because I just remembered something,” she frowned.

“And that is?” he inquired.

“I forgot to leave a note for Jarrod.”

“Jarrod?”

“Jarrod Miller,” she replied impatiently. “Perhaps you’ve heard of him? He’s only the hottest actor in the business right now.”

“You were supposed to leave him a note?”

“Yeah, he wanted to come to my place and say goodbye, but I couldn’t deal with it so I told him I was leaving at 7:45, not 7, and I forgot to leave him a note.”

“So he would have shown up?”

“For sure. Shit. I’d better call him.”

“It took you a long time to remember,” he remarked.

“I had a lot going on,” she quipped.

“Hmmm, you seem to be feeling better.”

“I am, kind of, I dunno, maybe.”

“You make your call. I’m going to freshen up and get you some aspirin.”

Shaking his head he wandered from the room. If she was in a relationship with Jarrod Miller, it certainly wasn’t one based on love and consideration.

Lucinda fished around in her bag, found her phone and dialed his number, a little ticked off that he’d not bothered to call and check on her. It rang a few times before it was answered, but the voice on the other end did not belong to Jarrod; it was soft and decidedly feminine.

“Hello?”

“Is Jarrod there?” Lucinda asked, deciding to wait before passing judgement.

“He’s in the shower,” the voice replied, “and I guess I’m talking to Lucinda Somers?”

“You are, and who are you, and why are you answering Jarrod’s phone?”

“It’s Jennifer Adams here,” the voice purred.

Jennifer Adams? Fuck.

“Where’s Jarrod?” Lucinda demanded.

“Like I said, he’s in the shower, and not very happy with you,” the young woman announced. “Tsk, tsk, Lucinda, running out on him like that. Not very smart.”

Lucinda’s blood was boiling. Jennifer Adams was one of her contemporaries whose star was shining every bit as brightly as her own, and though they’d never met, Jarrod had mentioned running into Jennifer on a number of occasions.

“Put him on the phone,” Lucinda snapped.

“I answered his phone because he asked me to. He told me that if you called, I should pick it up and say, screw you, though I’m being polite; he didn’t say screw.”

“Well, fuck you and fuck him!” Lucinda screamed into the phone.

Joseph had changed into a sweat suit, found the aspirin, and was about to wander back into the living room when he heard the outburst. Picking up his pace he entered just as Lucinda had begun to march furiously around the room.

“What happened?” he asked, genuinely concerned. She looked extremely upset, her face was bright red and her fists were clenched.

“Fucking Jarrod, that’s what happened,” she barked. “Fucking asshole!” and to his shock, she suddenly grabbed a green and white marbled vase sitting on a pedestal and lifted her arm to throw it.

“DON’T!” he shouted.

She stared at him for a split second, then threw it violently across the room, landing it against the wall, smashing it completely. Joseph burst across the room and grabbed her around the waist, effortlessly lifting her off the ground.

“Put me down!” she shrieked, arms and legs flailing.

Ignoring her outburst he carried her into her bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot, then sitting on the edge of the bed, threw her across his lap.

“You may be buzzed, you may be hurt, you may be angry, but you do not destroy other people’s property,” he scolded sternly.

“FUCK YOU!” she screeched.

“You really shouldn’t have said that,” he exclaimed, raising his arm.

The thin silk of her dress was little protection from his spanking hand, and his palm rained slap after slap, landing with gusto, spanking her bottom with force and vigor, and while she kicked and yelled and called him names he’d not heard since his stint in the military, he’d already made up his mind not to stop until he heard the two magic words.

“Okay,” she finally bawled, “I’m sorry.”

“That took you long enough,” he remarked, dropping his hand away.

“You’re so unfair!” she wailed.

“Unfair? I don’t think so.”

“Let me up.”

“Nope, not until we get a few thing straight. You don’t throw anything else in this house,” he declared, landing more smacks across her backside.

“Okay, okay,” she agreed, wriggling and squirming.

“Second, no more sarcastic, smart-ass digs at your sister.”

“That’s just-OW, OW,” she yelped, as his spanking hand cut her off. “Okay, I won’t be mean to her anymore.”

“Third, you treat the staff here, and waiters at restaurants, everyone, with respect,” he finished, dropping his hand with rapid fire swats to underscore his decree.

“Stop, please, stop,” she howled, “I’ll behave, I swear.”

Satisfied, Joseph yanked her up, sitting her next to him.

“You’ve had that spanking coming for a very long time,” he lectured, “and if you dare to cross me, I will absolutely repeat it, but on your naked ass. Got it?”

Lucinda, completely mortified, stared at the ground, nodding her head.

“It’s time you started to rein in that temper, get some impulse control. It’s time to grow up, Lucinda. When you’re with me you behave or your ass gets whacked. Got it?”

Still not looking at him, again she nodded her head.

“Now you just sit there and be quiet for a minute,” he ordered, and reaching across to the phone on the nightstand, he pressed the button marked, ‘Butler.’

“Henry Chambers speaking.”

“Henry, it’s Joseph.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Might there be a vacuum cleaner somewhere near my suite?”

“Yes, Sir. I was about to deliver the milk when I heard something break, so I took the liberty of placing the hose outside your door. I will be more than happy to send up one of the staff to clean it up if you desire.”

“No, no that’s fine, Henry, thank you, we’ll take care of the, uh, accident,” Joseph replied, “and of course we will compensate Mr. Sinclair for the cost of the piece.”

“That won’t be necessary, Sir.”

“I insist,” Joseph replied, wondering just what the treasure was that Lucinda had so indiscriminately hurled across the room.

“I believe it was worth only two pounds, Sir.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Joseph replied, stunned that Simon would have such a worthless vase in his house.

“May I explain?” Henry asked.

“Please do,” Joseph replied, completely intrigued.

“Mr. Sinclair was given to understand the propensity of the young actress to have outbursts that might result in breakage, so the items of value in your rooms have been replaced with worthless bric-a-brac. They were purchased this afternoon, and changed out while you were at dinner.”

“Ah, I see, that was very forward thinking of him,” Joseph smiled, then realized why the living room had looked different when he had returned.

“Can I be of any further help, Sir?”

“No, thank you. I believe I have everything under control.”

“Very well, Sir. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Henry.”

Hanging up the phone, he turned and looked at Lucinda. She hadn’t moved, and was sitting absolutely still, staring at her hands.

“Come along, young lady,” he declared. “You have a mess to clean up.”

“My butt hurts and my head hurts,” she whined. “I’ll do it in the morning.”

“Nope,” he declared firmly.

Pulling her to her feet, he led her back into the living room, and retrieving the long hose and glass of milk from outside the door, placed the milk on a sideboard, and finding the vacuum hole in the wall, attached the hose.

“The faster you finish, the sooner you can take some aspirin and go to bed,” he announced. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He walked away, but as he was about to enter the hallway that led to his room, he paused to look over his shoulder; Lucinda was pushing the appliance across the carpet just as he’d instructed. She certainly didn’t look happy about it, and he had no doubt her bottom was on fire.

Well, I think I’ve made an impression, but I wonder how long it will last. Can’t change a lifetime of behavior with one spanking.

Moving quickly to his bedroom, he stripped and took a quick shower, washing off the day. As he pulled on a T-shirt and boxers, and donned the thick, terrycloth robe he found hanging on the back of the door, he heard the hum of the vacuum die. Taking a moment to comb his wet hair off his face, he ambled back into the living room, finding it empty, the hose curled up by the door. The area where the vase had broken into a thousand pieces had been thoroughly cleaned, and spying the untouched glass of milk on the sideboard, he picked it up, carried it to Lucinda’s bedroom and knocked softly on her door.

“Come in,” she called.

He opened the door, and poking his head around saw she was sitting upright in her bed, her laptop open in front of her.

“You forgot your milk,” he offered. “Do you want it?”

“Why are you being so nice to me after being so horrible?” she frowned, her voice filled with angst.

“I wasn’t being horrible,” Joseph replied, walking to her bedside and sitting down. “I’m just not going to put up with your bullshit, and I warned you about that on the plane. You know you had no right to destroy that vase. What if it had been a family heirloom, or a priceless treasure?”

“That piece of crap, give me a break. Didn’t you notice when we got back from dinner that all the Lalique pieces and crystal vases were gone and that dime store stuff had been put in their place? Christ, I wouldn’t have thrown a Lalique!” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes.

“Wait a second,” he said slowly, “if you knew the items had been switched, you weren’t out of control at all. You chose to throw that vase. Were you testing me, Lucinda?”

Her eyes dropped back to her laptop, and the red blush that crossed her face was all the answer he needed,

“You really are a piece of work. You deserved every slap I landed on that gorgeous ass of yours, and now you know where we stand, right?”

She continued to stare at her computer, ignoring his question.

“I can always spank the answer out of you,” he warned.

“Fine, yes,” she replied grumpily, “I know where we stand.”

“I’m going to sleep and you should do the same,” he suggested, “and just so you have something to look forward to, we’re having lunch at The Ivy tomorrow. Many movers and shakers go there. You’ll love it.”