June (Calendar Girl #6) (2 page)

As sleek as a steel gray jaguar, he took one step at a time from the top of the stone stairway down to the gravel drive below. Most people would make the attempt to meet him half-way up the dozen or so steps. I’m not most women and he was definitely not most men. I enjoyed watching him move. He had an air of authority that clung to him like a fine, crisp cologne. I watched him take each step with grace and agility, exuding so much power I almost melted on the spot. The earlier complaint of humidity paled in comparison to the sweat I could feel beading at my nape, a single drop running down the length of my spine, shooting sparks of desire out each nerve ending.

“You must be Ms. Saunders.” His tone was straightforward, yet welcoming, as he held out his hand. The moment our hands touched an electric charge zapped my palm. I tried to pull away. He clung tighter. “Curious. I rarely feel someone’s essence just from a single touch.”

“My essence?”

A secretive smile stole across his kissable lips. They weren’t too thin or too plump. Like Goldilocks and her three bears, those lips would fit mine just right. He still hadn’t let my hand go. Instead, he turned it over, keeping our palms touching. Just that simple skin on skin contact was enough to have me salivating for more. He pushed up his glasses into his hair, a move that was far too cool for someone of his political stature. Men like him were supposed to be dull, boring, and all about government blah blah blah…my thoughts were interrupted by the depth of his brown eyes positively searing into mine. They were like identical Hershey Kisses, melting
me
instead. I sighed as his thumb brushed along the top of my hand.

“Your essence is your life force, your magnetism. When we touched, I felt the charge. Did you feel it?” I nodded numbly, staring into those chocolaty orbs, focusing on the straight nose, the high cheekbones and chiseled jawline. “When I press our palms together harder”—he placed his other hand over the top of the one he was holding, forcing them closer together—“it’s much stronger now.” His eyebrow quirked at the same time I licked my lips. Those eyes went straight to my mouth and my knees weakened.

It took every ounce of strength I possessed not to lick my lips again. “Come,” he said and I swear that one word alone sent a bolt of electricity directly to my pleasure center where it throbbed and pulsated, ticking to its own clock. He said something else, but I lost track after the word
come
. He let go of my hand and reached up to cup my cheek. Oh, man, I liked that a million times better, but it also forced me to focus on my surroundings. “Mia, are you okay?” His gaze roamed all over my face. Worry and concern were prevalent in the line that appeared between his brows. “I said come on, Father is waiting.”

I blinked a few times and then focused. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” I shook my head attempting to clear the remaining lust fog . “It was a really long travel day. I was in Hawaii and came straight from there to here, with a couple layovers in between. I’ve been up all night.” Layovers meant mad dashes to the gate, so I didn’t miss my flights. I could have killed Aunt Millie for booking flights with fifty-minute layovers in between. It left absolutely no time to get to your next plane. Potty breaks were completely out, and the captain didn’t let you go before takeoff, and definitely not until you reached a certain flying altitude. Then there was the one several hour stint where I didn’t land until morning the next day. Not my best travel experience.

Aaron tsked and shook his head. “That sounds dreadful. Let’s introduce you to Father and then I’ll have James show you to your room so we can have a quickie.”

“What!” I stopped at the top of the stairs and pressed my hand into my temple.
A quickie
?

“I said I’ll introduce you to Father, have you settled into your room and then let you rest. The time zone change can be quite tricky.”

“Oh, tricky.” I closed my eyes and laughed internally.

“What did you think I said?” He smiled showing a row of the most beautiful teeth known to man. He could easily grace the cover of magazines. Oh wait, he already had. Never mind.

“I thought you said we could have a quickie.” I laughed, and he stopped in his tracks, this time at the top of the steps next to the front door.

A sly smirk slipped across his lips. “Well, that could be arranged as well, though I don’t know that father would appreciate me dipping my hand into the cookie jar before offering you a proper meal and a date.” He winked and then grabbed my hand. That same sizzle of excitement zipped through our touching palms, stirring the magnetic energy again.

Aaron shifted, glancing at me sideways while leading me through the entryway. “You feel it, too?”

Lord, I wish I didn’t. Instead of lying, I closed my eyes, held my breath, and nodded.

***

I’d thought the sprawling mansion from the driveway up was amazing. It had nothing on the inside. In the foyer was a double staircase lined with yellow carpet. It reminded me of the yellow brick road and how Dorothy would skip along to her destination. If I wasn’t dead tired, I’d be skipping, too. This place was beyond lush. Wes’s Malibu home was beautiful, lived in, and probably cost a mint. Alec’s warehouse was incredible and kitted out. Tony and Hector’s penthouse apartment was swank, but this was a whole other type of rich. When Aunt Millie had said old money, I honestly didn’t know what I was heading into. I thought politician, government? It would probably be a nice place, but this felt like something Britain’s Queen Mother could be comfortable living in. The walls curved, had crown molding, and there were giant windows with thick, wine colored drapes. My feet sunk into the carpet making me want to remove my sandals and go barefoot just so I could dig my toes into the plush pile.

“This is amazing.”

Aaron smiled and looked around seeming unimpressed. “My mother was good with décor.”

“Oh yeah? She must really be proud of this. It’s beautiful.”

“She passed long ago, but she definitely appreciated the many admirers and home journals that shot different rooms here. She made the cover a few times. This home was her pride and joy—once I left for university that is.” He grinned and winked.

It looked like Aaron Shipley’s ego was perfectly intact. I followed him quietly, taking in my surroundings until we were in front of a set of double doors. Laughter rang behind the door as if someone was having a jolly time. Aaron knocked sharply, but didn’t wait for the greeting, opening the door as if he had a right to.

“Ah, Aaron, my boy! Come, come. Kathleen and I were just discussing last week’s debacle with the kitchen.” He pointed to a woman in a navy pencil skirt with a white frilly apron tied around her middle and a cream silk blouse tucked precisely and buttoned up to the neck. She had to be staff. “You see, the caterer for last week’s event thought I wanted…”

“Father...” Aaron cut him off abruptly, which I found rather rude and unappealing. His hotness just got kicked down a notch. “...Ms. Saunders is here.” He tugged my arm forward and I came face-to-face with an older carbon copy of young Shipley.

“Well, aren’t you even more beautiful in person than I saw in your profile. That Ms. Milan knows exactly how to impress. She is going to do perfectly, don’t you think, Aaron?”

Aaron’s eyes roamed my body from head to toe. “Yes, she’s definitely the ideal candidate to gain the attention of your consorts.”

“Come here, my dear. I am Warren Shipley,” he said jovially. Instead of a handshake, he pulled me right into a fatherly hug. “You are not at all what I was expecting.” He moved away and smiled while looking directly into my eyes. Dirty old perverts would be looking down at my breasts in this position. Seemed as though what my aunt said was true. He wasn’t interested in me in
that
way. “Thank you for coming. The situation is unique, but Ms. Milan assured me that you would be a great candidate. Just by your look alone…I can already tell I’m going to have them eating out of the palm of my hand.”

Chapter 2

“What do you mean, just by my look?” My eyebrows narrowed of their own accord.

Aaron huffed behind me then placed a hand on my lower back…very low. It was low enough to feel the curve of my bum through my skirt. Then he patted my behind and came around to the front of me, arms crossed over one another to sit on the edge of his father’s desk.

I was about to filet him for patting my ass like the little wifey, but he took that moment to explain. “Father has hired you because you’re beautiful, young, and will look drop-dead sexy in a cocktail dress. You’ve heard the term ‘arm candy’, right?” His lips pursed as his eyes trailed over my body. I wanted to hate the way it made me feel, but I couldn’t. Something about the open admiration was forbidden coming from someone of his caliber and status. A rich politician sizing up an escort was fucking hot.

“So I’m going to pretend to be your what, Mr. Shipley?” My gaze went to Shipley Senior for clarification.

Warren Shipley glanced at Kathleen who lowered her gaze and looked away, a pained expression crossing her delicate features. “I think I better take my leave and let you discuss business.” Her voice shook as she made a hasty retreat. The woman strode out of the room, so light on her feet I didn’t even hear her footsteps. I guess if you were a house attendant, you learned how to be quiet and not disturb.

Aaron’s father held up a hand to say something to the woman, but Aaron grabbed his hand and pressed it back down to the desk where they leaned. Warren pushed his shoulders back and tipped his head. “My dear, the type of men that I consort with are all members of the One Percent, like myself. They have more money than a thousand people would ever need in their lifetimes, and use it to control big business. I am merely playing along with their game.” That confused me, because the only one percent I knew about was an outlaw biker gang outside of Vegas.

I set my hands on my hips and cocked one out to the side. “That explained nothing about why I am here.”

Warren cleared his throat and rubbed his hand over his chin stubble. He seemed incredibly uncomfortable with continuing this conversation.

“You’re to be Father’s whore,” the Senator confirmed blatantly. Not even a hint of tact in his tone.

My head slammed back and I instantly crossed my arms over my chest. “Excuse me? I do not copulate with clients unless I
want
to. Emphasis on the want.”

“No, no, no, my dear. I don’t want that…” Warren sounded as uncomfortable as I felt and looked to Aaron for what I could only assume was assistance in explaining. Aaron rolled his eyes and stood.

“Mia, these men have a woman on their arm. Usually they are gold-digging whores. Meant only to look pretty, take as much money as they can, and fuck the men whenever and wherever.”

“Jesus, son. Must you be so crude?” Warren stood and came over to me. His eyes were filled with something akin to shame. “Mia, I will not treat you badly, but I do need to stay on the good side of these men in order to move forward on my building plans and mission for the new program. All of them have very young, beautiful women on their arms. It’s a disgusting status type of thing, if you will. I don’t care for it, but I will play whatever game is necessary to advance my agenda . In order to do that, I need the backing of several very prominent men in business and government. Without it, they could crush the program and all plans are shot.”

“Sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“That, money, and time. More than I’d care to admit,” he confirmed.

Again, Aaron shook his head. “Father is a modern day vigilante. He’s building the headquarters to offer medical services to third-world countries. In order to do that, he needs to have trade opened up to countries that offer specific vaccinations for a fraction of the cost. In others, he needs access to government as well as immunity to have his people travel to these locales. It will take legislative acts of governments to approve the organization coming in and out of the US, sending doctors, medical professionals, etc. much like a Red Cross, Lions International, and Doctors Without Borders.”

“You want to help save people in third-world countries? I don’t see how this is a problem. Shouldn’t government officials be jumping at the chance to help, especially if it’s not at the taxpayer’s expense?”

Warren cupped my cheeks looking deeply into my eyes. His brown orbs were warm and kind. “Some are, my sweet. Some are. But, there is a lot of red tape. More than you can possibly imagine.” He dropped his hands and stepped back to lean against his desk. “In order to have that tape cut, I need to get a few powerful fellas on board. There are also others that want special favors from my family that we cannot accommodate.” He turned his gaze to Aaron. Aaron inhaled and tipped his head down. Warren wouldn’t dare put his son’s political stance in jeopardy with his plan. Right then, I knew Warren Shipley was a good guy. The jury was still out on his son.

I shrugged. “So where do I come in?”

That’s when Aaron came over to me and cupped the back of my neck. His hand was warm and held just the right amount of pressure when he squeezed. “At the events and gatherings. Look incredibly gorgeous, smile, hug on Father as if you’re his young plaything, and your job is done.” I wished I had one of those big red buttons that said, “That was easy” for him to press.

“And what about you?” I licked my lips. Again, he watched with an intensity I rather liked. If his father hadn’t been there, I was certain I’d be pressed up against the nearest wall with his lips all over mine.

He made a humming noise deep in his throat. One I could feel all the way down to my toes. He leaned close to my face, so close I could feel his breath on my cheek as he whispered into my ear. “Me. Well, I get to chase my father’s hot young plaything in private.” His eyebrows quirked before he stepped back and winked.

I held out my hands then slapped them against my thighs. “When do we start?”

***

A few days later had me at one of Mr. Shipley’s fundraisers, looking around like the wild gazelle caught in the crosshairs of a hunter. With Wes I had him to anchor me to the environment, make me feel as though I fit in. Not this time. Mentally, I gave myself a hefty dose of self-confidence, setting my goals straight and readying for battle. Scanning the room reminded me of being back in Malibu with Wes at one of his stuffy events, except a far higher level of class. I wasn’t wearing sparkly sequins. No, I wore a dress designed by Dolce & Gabanna as a personal favor to Mr. Shipley. One that was entirely cut out from nape, to ass, but covered everything in front. Warren blushed and said nothing about the closet full of designer threads. I had taken pictures of the dresses and gowns and sent them to Hector, my gay BFF back in Chicago. His text message went something like, “
Chica
, you own the Universe. How do I get a ticket to Heaven?”