Knight's Mistress (23 page)

Dominic’s Garden House was near the Happy Valley race track and the Emperor Hotel, both useful in terms of entertainment. The track was open from September to June, the Emperor Hotel was open 365 days a year, which meant there was always sex for sale. And conveniently near the hotel was the residence Dominic had purchased three years ago and that functioned on occasion as his fuck pad.

At the moment, though, he wasn’t interested in either public venue. He had his entertainment and horse racing was the last thing on his mind.

The car entered the property through electronic gates, although nothing as pretentious as the gates for his house on The Peak. The drive was abbreviated as well, although the gardens were superb – a jungle of foliage that made the house, when it appeared, a surprise.

The red structure had been built as a summer house in the late eighteenth century, the design an idiosyncratic amalgam of Chinese and Portuguese elements. With the
original Portuguese trading port of Macau a short sail from Hong Kong, there was evidence that the first owner had used the house as a private retreat – for personal entertainment. Much like the present owner.

Dominic had had the summer house converted to a year-round home, upgrading the plumbing and electricity, adding heating and air conditioning, replacing windows with more environmentally suitable glass, insulating the walls, bringing in a decorator to recreate some of the original ambience, including a room that resembled a tai chi studio.

The Garden House hadn’t been his first choice. He would have preferred entertaining Miss Hart at his house. But his mother’s presence had required the change in plans.

As the car came to a stop, Dominic spoke through the intercom to the driver. ‘We need two robes, Liang, and some towels,’ he said in Cantonese. ‘Toss them on the front seat. Then you can take one of the other cars in the garage back to the house. We’ll manage here on our own.’

The driver’s door opened a moment later.

‘He’s getting us robes,’ Dominic translated, lifting Kate and placing her on the seat beside him. ‘Relax,’ he said to the sudden apprehension in her eyes. ‘No one cares what we do. This is Hong Kong.’

‘And you’re rich.’

He smiled. ‘That too.’

They waited in the luxury Benz, concealed from the world behind smoked-glass windows. Dominic related some
of the history of the house, spoke of his remodelling, talked about inconsequential things to soothe Kate’s nerves. Miss Hart wasn’t used to ignoring the world. He’d had a lot of practice.

In a few minutes, the driver’s door opened and closed. Shortly after, Dominic hit a switch and the privacy glass slid away. Rolling up from his seat, he leaned over into the front of the car and grabbed the robes and towels.

‘Here you go. We’ll leave our clothes in the car.’

Kate looked like a-deer-in-the-headlights. ‘You told him we needed towels?’

‘You need to calm down, Katherine. I have people who take care of me. They’re happy to do the same for you. It’s nothing personal. It’s their job.’ He tossed her a towel. ‘Do you want help with that?’

‘No!’ Her cheeks turned red. ‘Don’t look.’

He laughed. ‘Tell me what I haven’t seen.’

‘I don’t
care
. Just don’t look.’

He turned his head because it was a silly argument, not worth pursuing. And when she said, ‘Here,’ he looked back, took the towel and dropped it on the floor. Pulling his sweater over his head, he let it fall on top of the washcloth.

‘You’re just leaving those there?’

‘Someone will deal with it.’

‘None of this embarrasses you? Not even a little?’

He was taking off his shoes and glanced up. ‘Uh-uh. My staff is well paid; they couldn’t care less.’ He lifted one brow. ‘Want me to unbutton?’

She sighed and slid a jewelled button free.

‘No one will say anything to you. I promise.’ He pulled off his socks. ‘You’re going to like my bed,’ he said, changing the subject. ‘It’s antique, 1793, I’ve been told, and enormous.’

‘Don’t tell me why. I don’t want to know.’

He had no intention of telling her why. In fact, he’d have to be more selective in his topics of conversation. He kept forgetting her naivety. Just because she liked to fuck non-stop didn’t mean she was worldly. ‘Actually, the decorator found the bed in Beijing. It’s supposedly from the emperor’s apartments in the Forbidden City. If you like, we could go see the royal residences some day. It’s a pretty impressive layout.’

‘Thank you.’

That was too crisp. ‘For?’

‘Lying. I appreciate it.’

So she wasn’t completely naive.
‘I’m going to have to see that I lie a little better if it’s that obvious,’ he said with a grin, slipping his slacks and boxers down his hips, lifting up enough to slide them off.

‘Please do. Because this is
my
fantasy holiday.’

‘I prefer thinking of it as my getting-to-know-my-new-ADC-better holiday.’

She leaned over and put her finger over his mouth. ‘Stop. This is
my
fantasy. And put on your robe or we’re not going to get into the house.’

He quickly slid the black silk robe over his shoulders,
closed it, tied the tie. ‘I’d prefer the house. But once inside, consider me at your disposal.’

She slid her dress off her shoulders and down her arms. ‘I like the sound of that,’ she said with a smile. ‘You obliging me.’

Dominic Knight hadn’t put himself at any woman’s disposal since his wife’s death. However, with his companion naked, inches away and as she implied, impatient, his thoughts weren’t on the past. ‘Inside, not here,’ he gruffly said. ‘Put on your robe.’ Miss Hart’s glowing nakedness was bringing his dick back to life. It always amazed him, how it was possible to conceal such abundance.

The ‘Set Fire to the Rain’ ring tone echoed from inside Kate’s messenger bag, shattering Dominic’s preoccupation with big tits and curvaceous hips. Prompting a visible tenseness in his companion.

Kate didn’t move.

He flicked a finger toward the bag. ‘Answer it.’

‘They can leave a message.’

‘It might be your grandmother,’ he said casually, his gaze, in contrast, vigilant. ‘You should answer it.’

‘Not now.’

The message ping went off.

‘I’d check that.’ Dominic pointed at the bag again. ‘Andy’s been calling a lot.’

She gave him a murderous look. ‘How the hell would you know?’

‘You should get a password.’

‘I
have
a fucking password.’

He shrugged. ‘You should get a better password.’

‘And you should get some scruples,’ she snapped.

‘I’ll think about it.’ Reaching past her, Dominic grabbed the bag from the seat, pulled out her iPhone, tapped an icon and glanced at the display. ‘Andy’s wondering how you like Hong Kong?’

‘
What?
’ She snatched the phone from Dominic’s hand, looked at the text, swore, then muttered, ‘How the hell does he know where I am?’

‘I repeat – you should get a better password.’ His smile was indulgent. ‘You of all people.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said with cutting sarcasm. ‘Are you saying this is my fault?’

‘All I’m saying,’ he replied with gentle forbearance, ‘is you shouldn’t leave yourself open to hacking. You can fix it. Now call him back. Tell him you’re busy.’

She softly exhaled. ‘I can’t. Andy wants to know about my job at Knight Enterprises, as you probably already know if you read the earlier texts. So I’m not calling him back. I don’t have anything to say other than that I’m banging the CEO and I’m not interested in broadcasting that to the world.’

Dominic smiled. ‘You’re wounding my ego. It can’t be that bad.’

‘Very humorous,’ she grumbled, moody and fretful, dropping back against the seat with a sigh. ‘You’re going to fuck up my life in more ways than one.’

‘We don’t have to worry about it right now, do we?’

She gave him a surly look from under her lashes. ‘Because you have a one-track mind.’

‘With you I do. I’m leaving a helluva lot of people hanging because of you. So we could debate who’s fucking up whom the most.’ He lightly touched her arm. ‘But I’d rather do that tomorrow or the next day or the day after that if it’s OK with you. Come see my house. You’ll like it.’

‘Just like that. Forget everything. Come in and play?’

He grinned. ‘It could work.’

She sighed, then frowned. ‘Damn you,’ she murmured sourly.

‘You don’t want to get in that line,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s fucking long.’

‘So you’re troublesome to lots of people, not just me.’

‘I’m afraid so. Which is why I find your company so irresistible. You make me forget all that – everything in fact … except …’

‘Fucking.’

He dipped his head, his blue-eyed gaze surprisingly open. ‘That answer rings all the bells, Miss Hart. You get the giant stuffed panda.’

‘As if I could say no,’ she said so softly, he had to strain to hear her.

But he heard. ‘Would you like me to carry you in?’

‘Like this?’ She flicked a finger down her nakedness.

He smiled. ‘That way or any way. We’re alone here.’

‘What about food? You don’t cook. And I certainly don’t.’

He laughed. Only Miss Hart would be concerned about food. ‘The kitchen is in a separate building.’

‘So we’re not alone.’

‘It’s some distance from the house. And I promise we’ll be alone. You won’t see a soul.’

‘Does the food get cold?’

‘You’re seriously bruising my ego, Miss Hart. I’m here to fuck you and you’re talking about food.’

‘Just curious.’

‘A tunnel runs between the kitchen and the house, the food is delivered in warming ovens, an electronic lift carries it upstairs; we pick it up without human contact.’

‘Like Marie Antoinette’s play house,’ she said, smiling at the memory of the lush film. ‘I loved that movie.’

‘Very much like that, yes. There’s nothing new under the sun.’

A playful glance. ‘When it comes to sex.’

He smiled. ‘Particularly when it comes to sex. Would you like a menu?’

‘For?’

‘Ah, finally, I have your attention. I have both kinds of menus, Miss Hart. Which would you prefer first?’

‘Need you ask?’

‘I would have said no until recently.’ An infinitesimal lift of his brow.

She leaned over, stretched and licked a path up his throat. ‘Show me this antique bed.’

At Miss Hart’s express order, he tossed the strap of her bag over his shoulder, lifted her onto his lap, opened the door and smoothly exited the car.

‘You’re strong,’ she murmured, her arms around his neck as he crossed the cobblestone drive. ‘All that virility and power. I like that.’

‘You’re soft and delicate,’ he said, smiling. ‘The perfect match.’ Nudging the unlatched door open with his foot, he stepped into a scented foyer, perfumed by an enormous vase of white lilies set on a black lacquer table.

Light from an open courtyard illuminated the space, the illusion of some mythical Xanadu stunning. ‘It’s like a storybook house,’ Kate whispered, the interior the equivalent of every romanticized Chinese palace she’d ever seen in books or movies. The furniture was colourful, including some in a bizarre interpretation of European rococo, the carpets were muted, the walls embellished with gilded panels hung with silk scroll landscape paintings and the occasional gold-framed weeping face of Jesus.

‘The decorator was faithful to the original owner’s eccentric tastes. She found some old diaries. He wanted a hide-away. I couldn’t agree more.’

‘I’m not going to ask why.’

‘It’s not necessarily about anything disreputable.’
Although there were times.
‘Mostly, I like the privacy. My life is filled with people wanting things from me. Here, I can be alone.’

‘Oh dear,’ she said in playful despair. ‘I’m intruding.’

He grinned. ‘I might be able to make room in my schedule, Miss Hart. If you ask me nicely.’

‘Would you please fuck me, Mr Knight. I promise not to say a word if you’d prefer.’

He laughed. ‘I must have died and gone to heaven.’

‘Or paradise.’

‘Sounds even better, Miss Hart. Let me take you there.’

He carried her through two of the jewel-like rooms filled with precious objects and came to a stop at a closed door. ‘Shut your eyes,’ he said softly.

The blue flame in his gaze, the deep resonance of his voice, set her heart racing. She took a small breath, shut her eyes and as Dominic moved into the room, she inhaled a cloud of sweet fragrance.

She heard him suck in his breath and opened her eyes.

‘I think Leo did this for you.’ His voice was amused. ‘He must have cleaned out every flower shop in the city.’

‘But to very nice effect. We’ll have to thank him. Fucking in this room will definitely go into my book of memories.’ The bedroom had been transformed into a magnificent flowery bower, the profusion of blossoms entirely white, enchanting backdrop to the brilliant colour in the room. Had a decorator helped Leo with the flowers? Kate wondered. How many more people knew of her sexual holiday with Dominic Knight?

‘It’s a little over the top, but Leo meant well.’

‘It was sweet of him, really.’

‘What do you think of the bed?’

The four-poster bed on the ornamental platform was huge: scarlet lacquer, resplendently filigreed, hung with sheer, metallic gold tissue silk tied back with red braided and tasselled cords. The bedspread was a brilliant emerald green silk, embroidered with red dragons, white peonies and humming birds.

‘The decorator recreated a watercolour sketch of Mr Mendosa’s bedroom from 1799.’

‘It’s dazzling – like a beautiful stage set. I’m not sure I dare lie on that embroidered quilt. A team of seamstresses must have worked a year on it.’

‘Close. Eight months. But everything’s usable.’ He dropped her on her feet, tossed her bag on a chair and waved towards the bed. ‘Please, make yourself comfortable.’

‘I’d love to text a picture to Nana,’ Kate said, moving toward the outrageously theatrical bed. ‘But she’d ask questions.’

‘I agree, it wouldn’t be wise. You don’t want to be personally linked with me.’ He smiled. ‘In terms of your reputation. Other than that, I’m interested in any and all personal links with you.’