Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
The meeting was a bore, and I found my mind relentlessly wandering back to the surveillance feed from my bedroom. At the end of the meeting, I decided I had missed great chunks of the presentation. I went to see Ralph’s PA. She visibly shrunk when she saw me approaching her, which irritated me to no end. Why the fuck was she frightened of me? She had no reason to be. I’d hardly exchanged two words with her in the last three years.
“Can you send me a copy of the minutes of the meeting?” I asked, controlling my annoyance.
She swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”
I turned away, then turned back to look at her half-curious, half-mystified. She was practically quaking with fear of me. Like all the others. How come Lillian was not afraid of me?
“Are you scared of me?” I asked.
Her eyes bulged. “I beg your pardon.”
I had no time for this. “You heard.”
She looked around her nervously, as if looking for someone to come to her assistance.
“It’s an easy yes or no answer,” I prompted.
She chewed her bottom lip. “Can you assure me that my answer will not affect my job?”
I looked at her with exasperation. “What have I got to do with your job? You work for Ralph. You have nothing to fear from me.”
She straightened her shoulders. “In that case, yes, I am afraid of you.”
“Why?”
She took a deep breath, then let it rip. “Because you are rude, aggressive, demanding, hostile, impossible to please, and completely lacking any kind of empathy towards your fellow humans.”
I considered her response. “That’s it?”
She nodded. “That’s it.”
“Okay, thanks. Get me those minutes a.s.a.p.”
I turned away from her, my mind already churning with thoughts. So that was what my PAs thought of me. And that was probably what Lillian thought too, only she was a master of hiding it.
My phone pinged. It was Lillian.
If there’s nothing else, I’m leaving.
I glanced at the time. Three minutes after five. I couldn’t help the message my fingers typed out.
Yes, leave. I'm pretty sure it's been a very exhausting day for you.
Afterwards, I had a couple of drinks with an old college friend at the bar in Sans Frontiers until Madeline arrived at five minutes to eight. My friend made his excuses and left, and Madeline ordered herself a Vodka Martini.
She wasn’t as I remembered her.
Basically, she looked nothing like Lillian. Not only was there no ponytail, she had also dyed her hair a completely different color. And her voice! It was so fake and shrill with affectation that it went right through me. What I wanted to hear was Lillian saying, ‘Yes, Mr. Frost’ in that husky sexy voice of hers.
I leaned back and took a swig of my whiskey. I didn’t want to fuck Madeline. Not one bit.
She pushed her breasts forward. “I’m so glad you called,” she said gratingly.
No point in putting off the inevitable.
“I’ve booked my usual suite for the night,” I said. “You’re welcome to call a friend, have dinner with him, then stay the night and perhaps use the spa in the morning, but I’m out of here.”
Her eyebrows flew upwards. She was so surprised she actually dropped her fake accent. “You mean you want to leave now?”
I nodded, put the room key card on the table and stood. “Enjoy your night.”
She was still saying something when I walked away. I got into my car and drove like a madman back to my house. I greeted my dogs, flew up the stairs, and headed straight for the bed. I found the exact place she had sat on and I brought my nose close to the silky material and sniffed deeply.
Ah…
Her scent was faint, but I caught it… and instantly recognized it. I had encountered the same scent yesterday when she sat ramrod straight in the car with me.
I sat back on my heels and marveled at the way things were working out. It would seem Miss Lillian Hudson wanted me as much as I wanted her.
Chapter 10
Lillian
The first call I had that morning was from Maggie, but, to my surprise, she had not called my cell phone, but came through the switchboard.
"Hi, Maggie," I said.
“Hello, Lillian. I’m not calling as your friend, but as the owner of the agency,” she said.
“Okay,” I said warily.
"Now that you’ve had a couple of days to assess the situation, how is everything going?"
The day before played out like a video in my head—from Mr. Frost's demon dogs to my outrageous ‘show’ on his bed.
"It’s going good," I replied.
“Are you sure? You can tell me if there are any… er… problems and I’ll try to fix them.”
“No, no problems at all.”
“Not even teething problems?”
“Nope. Not even teething problems,” I said cheerfully.
“Oh! Anyway, I’ve been thinking…”
“What about?”
“Well, our bet doesn’t seem very ethical, does it? As the owner of the agency and your friend, I shouldn’t have pushed you into it. It was wrong. It could place you in a position where you end up putting up with things that you wouldn’t normally tolerate.”