A very Corporate Affair Book 1 (The Corporate Series) (20 page)

                 "I see."

                 "Have you ever been in love?"

                 "Not really. I went out with a boy at uni, but it didn't last. He wanted different things from life than I did, so I ended it."

                "What different things did he want that drove you away?"

                "He wanted to be a writer, and he thought poverty was romantic, probably because he'd never experienced it.I know full well that there's nothing remotely romantic about not being able to answer the door and hiding behind the sofa when the debt collectors call round. I didn't want that life for myself, so I bailed."

                "Don't blame you. It sounds horrific."

                "It was. I lived in fear of having my things taken away. It's why I never have lots of 'stuff', if I don't have it, I can't lose it. I don't get attached to material things, and I live in fear of debt. I refuse to ever borrow money. I saw what it led to."

                "I'd love to take you shopping and give you lovely things. You deserve the best."

                "I'm not a charity case Oscar, I earn a good living and can buy nice things for myself. Don't worry, I wouldn't embarrass you by wearing Primark clothes," I snapped, suddenly regretting sharing so much information.

                "You'd look lovely whatever you wore, but you'd look fabulous in couture." He kissed my shoulder. "I don't think you're a charity case at all, certainly not when you're parked in your fancy office, with a PA doing your bidding. I love the little suits you wear to work, especially when you don't wear knickers underneath them." He reached up and tweaked my nipple.

                "Sex maniac," I laughed, squirming.

                As soon as we were out of the bath, we made love again on the bed, a decidedly non kinky quickie, but satisfying nonetheless. We just couldn't seem to get enough of each other's bodies, and we only stopped because it was time to dress and join Oscar's guests downstairs.

                I wore my wrap dress, and a pair of heels, which I knew Oscar liked, and we made our way down to pre dinner drinks in the sitting room. The others were already there, sipping gin and tonics, and discussing the shoot. This time I felt more relaxed and confident than I had the previous evening, and I began to enjoy myself.

                 Lady Golding appeared, and made a beeline for me, "Elle, you look lovely dear, did you visit the garden?"

                "I did, and it's stunning, like paradise on earth. All the grounds are, but the white garden took my breath away," I gushed. She looked pleased. Oscar was by my side within moments of his mother's arrival.

                "Did Elle tell you she did a magnificent job with the parish newsletter. Sent it to be printed and everything," she said to Oscar.

                "She mentioned that she'd done it. Won't Mrs Smith's nose be out of joint?"

                "Well she complains at having to type it all, so I'm sure she'll be relieved. Did you shoot today Elle?"

                 "I did indeed Lady Golding. It was a lot of fun." I didn't need to admit to her that it was my first time.

                 "I hope your shoulder's not too sore. I find that shotguns are too heavy for me."

                 "She's surprisingly solid. Looks a flimsy little thing, but that kickback didn't knock her over," said Hartey, joining in the conversation, "good shot too."

                Lady Golding smiled and moved off to chat to Minty and Thomas. Oscar bent down to whisper in my ear, "she likes you. I'm concerned that you're going to get lumbered with that stupid newsletter for evermore, but at least she's not clawing your eyes out." He put his arm around my shoulder, and gave me a little squeeze, before announcing that we should head into the dining room.

                 Dinner was a sedate affair that evening. The food and wine were as delicious as before, but everyone seemed tired. Lady Golding complemented my dress, and asked who it was designed by. Thankfully I was able to tell her it was by Diana Von Furstenburg, which was better than having to admit to wearing something from Zara. She didn't have to know it was in the sale. All the girls chatted about shopping, while the men just listened politely.

                "I promised Elle a nice shopping trip soon," Oscar said to Minty.

                "You make sure you hammer his bank balance," she advised me, "he's got oodles of money, best he spends a bit of it on you." I smiled. She really had no brain to mouth filter.

                 "I plan on spoiling her," said Oscar, looking affronted, "I'm taking her to Harrods for a splurge."

                 "You really don't need to," I said, "I'm perfectly capable of buying my own clothes."

                 "Oh you should let him," said Minty, "it's a man's way of telling you he loves you. Isn't that right Osc?"

                 Oscar stared into his wine glass, before saying, "yes, I suppose it is." Minty clapped her hands together, delighted, and I noticed that Darius was the only one at the table not smiling at Oscar's rather clumsy confession. The look he shot Oscar was a mixture of exasperation, and anger, and it surprised me. Even Oscar's mother seemed quite misty eyed, which also surprised me. Oscar just looked a bit pink, and embarrassed.

                The subject changed to the castle, with Lady Golding regaling us all with the rather colourful history of the previous inhabitants, and the awful ways they behaved. She was a talented raconteur, and I was transfixed, listening to her. As a result, the remainder of dinner passed without incident.

                After coffee in the sitting room, and with several people yawning, Oscar and I decided on an early night. It was still eleven o'clock, which for me, was fairly late, so we said goodnight, and headed upstairs.

                "Did you want to stay downstairs and party?" Oscar asked, as I took my makeup off in the bathroom. He began to brush his teeth. It was all very cosy and domestic.

                "I'm exhausted from all the fresh air. Felt as though I was gonna drop off at the table. Your mum was interesting though. I liked hearing about the castle."

                 "She's very knowledgeable," he agreed, after rinsing his mouth, "although her family were from Kent. She came to Conniscliffe when she married my father. He was the real expert on the family history." Oscar tossed his clothes into the laundry

basket, and wandered into the bedroom naked.

                I followed, and we got into the enormous bed, snuggling together in the centre. "I'm not too tired," I purred seductively, my hands roaming over the muscles of his chest.

                "Oh good, I was worried," he said, nuzzling my neck, "I don't want you all worn out, just because of my insatiable demands."

                 "I thought that was the whole point of the early night?" I said, squirming as he cupped my breast. Just the slightest touch from Oscar seemed to ignite my body, and I grew slick and hot as he kissed me. He lay on his side, one hand gently stroking my cheek, as he kissed me with lush, deep kisses, his tongue sweeping over mine in soft licks. His other hand slowly travelled down my body, exploring my skin, until it slipped between my legs to feel my arousal. With a featherlight touch, he teased my clitoris, rubbing tiny circles, until I pulled him over me. Quickly sliding on a condom, he pushed into me achingly slowly, and began moving at a leisurely pace, savouring the moment, as he held me tight, still kissing me.

                He pulled himself upright, and continued his slow pace, reaching down to rub my clit. I felt the orgasm brewing inside, and unable to control it, I came with a cry. Within moments, I felt Oscar swell and let go. He stilled, and pressed into me as he came, before laying back on top of me, holding me tightly and kissing me hard.

                He pulled out, and lay beside me, running his warm hands over my ribs. "What I feel for you scares me," he whispered. I stared at his beautiful face, with it's worried look, and smiled.

                "Oh?" I replied. In truth, it was too early to declare undying love, but I did feel a lot for him. I liked him more and more as time went by. I felt comfortable with him, and I fancied the pants off of him. It was enough for me, and I certainly wasn't going to rock the boat by saying I didn't have the same feelings as him. 

                "I think I'm in love," he blurted out, scanning my face. I kissed him softly.

                "Me too," I replied. He pulled me into an embrace, and held me tightly. I could feel his heart hammering in his chest, either from the exertion of our lovemaking, or the anxiety of his declaration. I could feel him smile against my neck as he nuzzled me.

                "Sleep baby, you look shattered," he said, pulling away slightly. I turned onto my side, snuggled into him, and drifted off.

                I don't really know what woke me, whether it was the cold, empty space beside me, or the parched mouth from the salt I put on my salmon at dinner. I lay there for a few minutes, trying to go back to sleep. It was nearly one in the morning.

                I figured that my raging thirst would only get worse as the night wore on, so I swung my legs out of bed, and pulled on my robe. I padded through the dim corridors, and down the stairs to the kitchen, trying not to make any noise or wake anyone else. I walked past the garden room on my way to the end of the corridor, and heard voices coming from Oscar's study.

                 I heard Oscar's voice clearly. He sounded like he was begging. I could hear another voice murmuring something, but it was too quiet to hear properly. I stood at the door, trying to listen, when I heard Oscar clearly announce that he was coming. My blood ran cold, and I stood, immobile, unsure what to do. I heard grunts, and sex type noises coming from behind the door, and a man's voice saying something about daring to fuck a commoner, which spurred me into action. If Oscar was screwing someone else, I needed to know now, rather than further down the road, when I had deeper feelings for him.

                 I grabbed the door knob, and swung the door open. The sight that greeted me caused my hand to fly in front of my mouth in horror. I grabbed the door frame to stop myself falling as I observed Oscar laying naked, on his back, on the desk, semen spurting out of his cock, which Darius had his hand wrapped around, while he fucked Oscar up the arse.

                They both froze as I stood in the doorway, staring at them, and unable to move my limbs. Oscar threw his arm over his face like a child who thinks that if they can't see you, you can't see them. Darius scrambled to pull his pyjama bottoms up, and just stared at me, an unreadable emotion on his face. I turned tail and strode away. I heard Darius tell Oscar that he'd better go after me.

                Back in Oscar's bedroom, I found my bag in Oscar's wardrobe and began to throw my clothes in. Oscar walked in looking dazed. "What are you doing?" he asked.

                "Leaving. What does it look like?" I replied, not meeting his eyes. I couldn't bear to look at him after such a betrayal. Only two hours earlier he had declared he was in love with me, and then rushed off for a homosexual tryst. It made me feel sick.

                "Elle, it's one in the morning, and we're in the middle of nowhere. Come back to bed, and we'll talk in the morning."

                "Are you nuts?" I spat, "there's no way on god's green earth I'm sharing a bed with you ever again, and I'm not staying here, there's no point."

                "Elle, please, be reasonable," he said, in a pleading voice.

                "You're homosexual? What was I? Your beard? Your fag bangle? The cover story for your mother?" I began to recover from the initial shock, and my anger was growing.

                "I'm not homosexual," he bleated, "it's only Darius, no other man. We've done it since we were kids."

                "Why? Wasn't I enough for you?"

                "I don't know why, we both just feel the need every now and then, and of course you're enough for me. It's a totally different thing. You and I make love. Darius and I just blow off some steam."

                "Does Arabella know?"

                "No. Nobody else knows. It would ruin us both if it got out. Elle, please, it's not important, you're what's important to me."

                "How can you possibly say that? You just got fucked by a bloke. Do you seriously expect me to forgive and forget? It disgusts me. You used me to cover up the fact that you're gay, and I ain't playing your game." I moved to the drawer and began shoving my things into the weekend bag. I just wanted to escape, cry, and go home.

                "Name your price," he said suddenly. I spun round.

                "My price for what?"

                "To keep this secret, this can't get out. Tell me how much you want."

                I stared at him, incredulous, "I'm a fucking lawyer gayboy, I'm not gonna start blackmailing you. Keep your money, and spend it on the poor sap you end up with, cos it won't be me." I drew myself up to full height, looked him in the eye, and said; "the price of my silence is yours. Unless we are in a professional setting, you don't speak to me, look at me, or contact me. If we are at work, you will be polite. You are gonna open those gates and let me go home, and I will never breathe a word of this to a living soul. Deal?"

                He stared at me, tears forming in his eyes, "you really weren't with me for my money were you?"

                "No Oscar, I wasn't. Not interested in your silly title either. Sorry to blow apart your misconceptions of the working classes," I said spitefully as I pulled on my jeans.

                "A woman who was with me for all the right reasons," he said. A tear made its way out of his eye and travelled down his face. I ignored him, and pulled a jumper over my head. I zipped up my bag and grabbed my handbag.

                "Open the gates for me please," was the last thing I said before I left the room. He followed me down the stairs.