I Want (2 page)

“Good night Elle, I will text you tomorrow.”
He said softly, his eyes twinkling with that same something she had originally
noticed in them, before he had insulted her that first night.

With that, he was gone. Elle felt hot
and bothered by the soft impression of his lips on her cheek.
Pull yourself
together, she chided to herself. It was only a kiss on the cheek, and at the
end of the day; one pleasant evening does not compensate for insulting your
integrity!

True to his word, William did text
her, but he did not wait until the next day. He gave the cab driver the address
of his house. As he leaned back against the leather of the seat, reliving the moments
of the evening, it occurred to him that he had not complimented her on her
outfit.

He had to stop his mouth from dropping
open when she first arrived, and he saw how sensationally she was dressed for
the occasion. Her dress was made of pale-pink chiffon flowing down to her
ankles, with a silver halter styled neck detail that matched the colour of her
high heels. 

He must have been incredibly nervous
to forget to tell her how beautiful she looked. He always made the effort to
compliment every woman’s appearance to whom he felt an attraction to. The
magnetism pulling him to her was stronger than he had ever experienced before.
Pulling his phone from his suit jacket pocket, he touched the contact's icon
and found her number under the B listing. He hit the send message option, and
began how best to convey his thoughts to her.

It seems I was too busy admiring
how fabulous you looked tonight; I neglected to tell you, so, please let me
rectify that, and accept my apology. WD

It had only been about ten minutes
since they parted company, so Elle had been quite surprised when she heard her own
smartphone ping a notification sound. She thought it would be just Jess, or Cate,
letting her know that they would be staying the night elsewhere.

She was astonished when the flashing
unread message showed a number not saved to her contact list. She could not
help but blush at his thoughtful communication, and it made her enthusiasm for
their next dinner date grow. She always dated older men in the past but never
one as rich and powerful as the 24-year-old William Dexter. Despite his
rudeness and her apprehension, he was the utmost gentleman all night, showering
her with his undivided attention throughout the night. As she thought over the
evening’s events, she could not help, but think she was beginning to like him.
But, she wanted to keep sensible to the fact that he could easily change his
personality again. She could not allow herself to fall for his flattery after
just one demonstration of a thoughtful trait in his personality.

Elle was due to
fly out to Prague in the mid afternoon. She would be there for less than 24 hours
to do a night photoshoot for a clothesline she had modelled for in an earlier
season. She rose early, and was packing a few items in her overnight bag, when
the doorbell rang. Cate shouted from downstairs that she would grab it, so Elle
carried on with what she was doing. A few minutes later that Cate appeared in
her room. “You have a rather keen admirer,” her sister said, leaning up against
the doorframe, and smirking.

Elle turned to look at her sister;
her eyebrows rose as she saw why she had made such a statement. Cate held, in her
hand, the largest bunch of white lilies, with baby’s breath and heather, she
had ever seen. “They are for me?” She asked, realising what a stupid question,
as soon as she uttered the words.

“Yes, dear sister, they are.” Cate
stepped closer to give them to Elle.

“Did they say who sent them, or is
there a card?” Elle said still feeling quite disconcerted. She had received the
odd bunch of flowers before, but nothing compared to this.

Cate could not help, but laugh softly
at her sister’s naivety, at her effect on a certain gentleman last night. The
whole room had seen how he looked at her and paid no other person any attention
throughout the evening, except where politeness was required elsewhere. “There
is indeed a card. But I am sure they are from a rather lush man, whose blue
eyes followed you everywhere last night,” Cate teased, pointing to the card
among a section of greenery.

Elle blushed,
“I am sure you are mistaken that he looked at me all night.” Taking the card and
opened it, her cheeks flushed redder as she read it under Cate’s scrutiny.

“So, I was right?” Cate smirked “Perhaps
I should start calling you, Mrs. Dexter, from this day forwards."

“Cate,” Elle rebuked softly.

“So, what does it say, and I wonder
how he knew lilies were your favourite flower?”

“He may have asked Charlie to find
out from Jess.” Elle suggested, not answering her question about what he had written.

“Maybe,” Cate hugged her sister, and
left her alone since she was not going to reveal the card contents.

Alone again, her packing forgotten,
she sat on the edge of the bed and read the card once more:

A beautiful flower for a beautiful
lady; until tomorrow at eight @ Netherfields, Will

Netherfields was a highly publicised,
one off restaurant owned by both William and Charles, located in Covent Garden
where many opera and ballet goers attended before shows.  

After she had arranged the flowers
in two crystal glass vases, she sat down to catch her breath before going back to
her packing. Her mobile began to vibrate on the kitchen counter, as she took a
swig of water from her constant companion of a drinking bottle. The screen indicating
that it was her agent, Lauren.

“I hope you are ready to go.” Her agent
piped up in her usual manner of offering no acknowledgement.

“Of course," Elle responded, used to the brisk way her
agent spoke on the phone. "What time am I getting picked up?”

“In about 15 minutes.”

“Ok.”

“Also we have received a specific request
for you from a new client.”

“Who is the client?”

“Pemberley Hotels. They're looking
for a new face to front their ad campaign,” her agent said casually. “It could be
quite rewarding. They have told me so far they have already seen a few others
that were unacceptable, and they said Mr. Dexter had asked for you, particularly.”
Elle nearly dropped the phone at hearing his name.

“Do you know which Mr. Dexter? There
are two,” Elle asked, taking a deep breath, as she willed herself to relax.

“I think W. Dexter.” Her agent explained,
causing Elle to gulp slightly.

“Ok, well let me have a think about
it”

“Fine, but don’t take too long. This
is an excellent opportunity,” Her agent warned.

During the drive through to outskirts
of London for her flight, she took the opportunity to respond to William’s
text:

You guessed well to send the lilies,
unless maybe a little birdie told you ;) They were a lovely surprise. See you
tomorrow night, E

She normally texted using shortened
abbreviations of words, but she thought, given William’s full worded text last
night, she would refrain from doing so when replying to him.

The check in and flight were quick, arriving to a rainy Prague
with the lingering raindrops sparkling in red and orange hues from the setting
sun. She was met at the airport by the transport who was taking the whole
entourage of the photographer and assistant, hairdressers, makeup people, the
editor responsible and one other model; a guy called Tom, with whom she had worked
with on a few other assignments.

The shoot lasted until the middle of
the night, the concept of black-and-white camera shots, set against diffused neon
signs, and medieval, gothic influenced architecture. Exhausted, she crashed
back at her hotel soon afterwards. Checking her phone, she had several voicemails
to listen to, and a couple of text messages. Both Cate and Jess had phoned her
to find out what her plans for the weekend were as they were deciding which
party invites to accept. The following voicemail was a rich, velvety voice that
took her a moment to recognise. It was from William Dexter. Just hearing him
speak sent her heart a flutter.
God, these reactions to him were getting
ridiculous.

It was a short
recording, saying she had busted him over the flowers, and that he had managed
to cancel his late meeting tomorrow, so he could collect her from her house
earlier than the eight, they originally agreed. She texted him an answer, thinking
he probably would have the phone off, and he would simply read it in the
morning. Only a few minutes later, when she returned from a quick shower, she
noticed a new message notification flashing on her phone, showing that he had
replied.

W: Hi, have you only just finished
work? It must be about 3am. 

E: Hi, yes after three, and yes,
just finished half-hour ago. Why are you up still?

W: Just wanted to finalise figures
for a deal I am closing in the morning.

E: Ok, well, I am going to head
to bed. I will see you at seven.

W: Sweet dreams.

Turning her phone
to silent, she snuggled under the bed sheets, and drifted off to sleep. Thoughts
of William Dexter, kissing her properly on the lips, rather than the simple
peak on the cheek they had shared the night before, soon invaded her sleep. The
dream intensified into more thoroughly dirty thoughts of where those kisses
might lead to as she could hear his voice whispering sweet nothings in her ear.
She awoke in the morning with a sweat glistening over her, and a frustrating
longing between her legs.
Damn William Dexter and his sexy voice.

William had managed to shift his late meeting to the following
day, thus allowing him to pick up Elle from her house an hour earlier.

This
time
he
arrived
in
his
own
chauffeur
driven
car
. He dressed
in
an
open
necked
cream
shirt,
with
a
black
suit
with
thin
vertical
stripes
printed
onto
the
excellent
material
that
moulded
tightly
across
his
slim
hips
and
firm
derriere.
Elle could
not help, but let her eyes wander from his muscular chest, downwards to his groin,
as the tightness of the fabric emphasised his apparent size in that department.
Blushing, she had pulled her eyes away after a few seconds, lifting them to
meet the sparkling ones of her date. 

Elle had selected a cream sleeveless
chiffon dress that a designer had given her as a gift. The cream tone was
perfect for her tanned skin, showing off her bare slender arms. It had a high
neckline, but the sheerness of the chiffon showed off the outline of her lace
lingerie, giving William a tantalising glimpse of what lay beneath.

The restaurant was heaving with diners
when they arrived at Netherfields. The maître de whisked them into a private
room at the back that was reserved for family and friends, but William had made
sure nobody would be intruding tonight. Several individual flower arrangements
decorated the room, and a small circular table, laid for two, with a bottle of
the restaurant's best champagne cooling in an ice bucket.

“Are we celebrating something?” Elle
asked coyly, gesturing to the champagne, as she seated herself upon the chair
William had pulled out for her.

William smiled innocently, as he sat
upon his own. “Maybe, if you agree to my proposal.”

Elle wondered
what proposal he would have in mind. Even with the intensity, she felt in her
heart whenever he spoke or looked at her, her head remained reserved when it
came to overcoming any prejudice against him. “I guess that depends upon the
finer details,” she stated, avoiding William’s penetrative gaze, as her
intrigue and slight apprehension grow, looking down at the menu contemplating
what to order.

“Did your agent
not tell you?” He queried.

Elle relaxed
slightly, now that she understood what offer he had in mind. 

“Oh, yes, she
did.”

He reached for
her hand across the table. “Did the idea appeal to you?”

“It did, and
I was flattered, but I do still have certain reservations about accepting.”

“Please, tell
me what reservations you have, and I will try to ease those best I can.”

“Well, I just
wonder if you would be so interested in me for the project, if you were not
also attempting to date me.”

William spluttered
at this. “You think I am trying to buy your affections?” A shadow of something
unreadable crossed his expression.