Temptation: a billionaire erotic romance (6 page)

Serena pursed her lips.  “My brother.”

“Honey, you’re kinkier than I give you credit for.”

Serena gagged.  “Please.  Not like that.”

“So like what?”

Serena sighed.  “Like he made a bad decision and he’s in trouble.  He’s not a bad kid, but he’s an idiot.  He took a job with a business that turned out to be a gang, and when he lost one of the bags they were smuggling—God knows what it was, I think it was coke—they took him.  And the only way to get him back is to scratch together five hundred grand by the end of the year.”  She rubbed her temples.  “Hell knows how I’m going to do it since I’ve given up this job.  But I have to.”

“Go on.”

“No, you go on,” Serena answered, not wanting to keep talking about Harry and be reminded of how much in danger he was.  “Quid pro quo.  I want to know what the Harlow thing is.”

Jacques smiled.  “Anybody ever tell you you’d do good in business, Screamer?  I think I’m seeing why Val likes you.”

Jacques leaned forward, pulling out a paper from his briefcase.  He handed it to Serena, who read the top line:

HARLOW GROUP TO MR. VALENTINE MARQUETTE.—CONCERNING BELLADONNA.

“Belladonna?”

“Yes, Belladonna.  And yes, Harlow Group.”

He studied her expression, as if he was looking for something.  She stared at him blankly, obviously not getting it.  He smirked and leaned back, apparently figuring out that she really had no idea.

“And why is this so important?  And secret?” she said.

“Because the Harlow Group isn’t as legitimate as it sounds, and the Belladonna deal is definitely, definitely not legal.  And because Fuck knows why Val’s getting himself into this, because he’s smarter than that.  There’s something going on here, I know it.”

“But what’s the Harlow Group?”

Jacques wrestled with a decision in his mind, but then nodded to himself.  “I suppose I can tell you, you’ll find out anyway.  It’s the ‘group’—though ‘gang’ would be more appropriate—let by Ian Harlow.”

“Val’s old business partner?”

Jacques paused, his suspicious look back again. 

“How do you know that?”

“Google.  I did my research before signing onto this.”

Jacques grinned again.  “Of course you did.  And so of course you’ll know about Harlow’s fall due to Val’s exposing his criminal empire to the police.  And you’ll know that Harlow would like nothing more than to see Val gutted and hung dead in the public square.  Point is, Harlow recently got out of prison, and word is he’s gunning for Val.”

“I had figured as much.  But what’s Belladonna?”

 Jacques’ cautious expression came back.  “You don’t need to know about that.  If Val hasn’t told you already, you really don’t need to know.  Can’t say anything more than that, and you need to keep it a secret that I even let you know the name, alright?  You’d do best to forget it completely.”

Serena stared at him.  “You’re going to hang this in front of my face and then refuse to say what it is?”

Jacques laughed.  “True.  But if Val hasn’t told you about it already, you don’t need to know.  And you don’t need to tell him I told you.”

“What if I do?” she asked, a dangerous note in her voice.  “If you won’t tell me, maybe Val will….”

Jacques glared at her for a moment, his expression suddenly dangerous.  But then he thought about it and shrugged.  “You could, but he’d send you away in an instant.”

“What?”

“If Val doesn’t want you to know, he really doesn’t want you to know.  The second he found out you knew, you’d be gone in an instant.  No money, no chance to see him ever again.  That would be it.  I’m not just saying you should forget it for my sake, I’m saying it’s for your sake too.  If you value your relationship with Val, you need to forget about it all.”

“He’d leave me forever?” she repeated. The idea of that did something strange to her, made her go cold in the deepest, most private part of her.  It scared her like nothing else.

Jacques grinned at her.

“What?” she said.

“You.  Look at how terrified you are by that.  You run away like you never want to see him again.  But when you actually think of never seeing him again, you hate the idea of it.”  He shook his head.  “I’m telling you, Serena.  You two are far more into each other than either of you admit.”

Serena frowned, uncomfortable.  “Whatever.  Are you sure there’s nothing more you can tell me?”

“About Harlow and the Belladonna thing?  No.  You need to forget it.  And I’m not just saying that—everything you know about them is going to put you in danger, and I mean that.  But Val did say I should tell you about this.”  He reached into his briefcase and pulled out the brown paper package that Serena had seen earlier.  It wasn’t very large, but it was well wrapped in string, and Serena began burning with curiosity.

“This is from Val,” he said, placing it on the table and pushing it over.  “He wants to read it after I’m gone.”

“He’s not going to come over?”

Jacques shrugged.  “I think he knows this is an argument you have with yourself, not him.”

Serena took the package, feeling how light and pliable it was, wondering what it held inside it. 

 “He said it’ll tell you everything you need to know,” said Jacques.  “When you’re ready, he’ll be waiting back at the mansion.  And, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere.”

Jacques stood and began gathering his papers and suitcase.  Serena continued to examine the package.

“Jacques?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I should trust Val?”

Jacques smiled.

“I’ve always trusted him, just like he always trusts me.  What I think you need to figure out is if you trust yourself.”

Jacques winked at her and walked out the door.

Serena ran a hand down the package, trying to discern its contents from feeling.  She slipped a finger under the string that held it together, snapping it against the paper.  Did she really want to open it and see what Val had sent her?  She swallowed hard.  On the one hand, last night had scared her.  No,
she
had scared herself with the way she had loved it.  But on the other, there was something irresistible about Val, something that drew her to him even when she resisted with all her will.

Serena took a deep breath, then reached for a knife and began cutting away at the string.

She unwrapped the first layer of paper, but underneath it was only another layer.  She carefully peeled that one away, only to find another layer underneath it.  Frustrated, Serena began tearing away the layers of crumpled paper, searching for something, anything.  But she found nothing.  By the time she was done, her table top was covered in a mess of brown paper and cut string, with nothing to show for it.

Serena groaned, throwing down the last bit of paper in annoyance.  It sent a gust of wind, and something crisp and white fluttered off the table to the floor.  Serena paused.  She hadn’t seen that when she was unwrapping the package.

Serena pushed her chair out and reached down for it.  It was a small note, folded carefully and taped shut.  Serena peeled away the tape and unfolded it, smoothing it out across the table top.  Written in perfect fountain pen calligraphy in Val’s perfect handwriting were five words:

You know you want to.

For a moment, Serena was breathless.

Those words.  Oh God, those words.  ‘You know you want to.’  Serena leaned against the wall, weak.  Her head slipped to the table, and she threw her arms over her to block out the light, totally worn out.  She remembered the first time she had seen the ad in the newspaper, the first time she had read those words and felt something move in her. 

Did she want to?  She remembered the passionate night with Val, the way he had seduced and inflamed her.  And then she remembered the embarrassing morning after, running away like a scared child, ashamed of the way she had acted the night before.  So did she really?

She felt the sane voice in her mined scream no. 

But something dark inside her hissed
yes
.

*****

“So you came back.”

Serena’s breath caught as she turned around from her seat in the waiting room.  Ellen, the head maid, a motherly red-headed woman in a black dress, had directed her. 
Don’t worry, I’ll fetch Mr. Marquette … he’s been waiting for you
, she had said with a wink.  Serena hadn’t been sure she wanted her to, but at the same time, she knew she’d never really be able to get away.  Everything about Valentine Marquette consumed her. 

Val walked into the room, pulling his sleeves up.  Serena stood immediately; it was almost an instinctual action now, like it had always been a part of her to be with Val.  She lowered her gaze as he approached her, ashamed of having run out in the morning without any warning.  She knew how childish it must have seemed.  She felt heat rise to her cheeks and lowered her head further, hoping her hair would cover it.

“Come, Serena,” he said, motioning to her with a finger.  “Follow me.  I think we need to have a talk, don’t you?”

Serena followed him with hurried steps as he walked down the hall, biting her lip.  Inside, she worried about the punishment she knew must be coming.  Yet on the other hand, it excited her.  The idea of Val punishing her again was something that inflamed her passion for him, as much as it embarrassed her.

“I was very disappointed to see you gone when I came back home this morning,” Val said, turning down another hallway in the labyrinth of the mansion.  “I thought we had made an agreement that you were not to go anywhere without my permission.  It was in the contract.  And here I am, having Jacques chase after you like a lost puppy.”

He made a tutting noise as they turned another hallway.  Serena remained silent as he reached the door at the end of the hallway and pulled out a small ring of keys.

“We’re going to have a talk, Serena,” Val said, searching the ring for the key for the large gilded door.  “But first, I need to show you something.”  Serena nodded solemnly, and Val unlocked the door with a heavy click.

“These are your quarters,” Val said, pushing open the door.  Serena followed him in, and her eyes grew large as she took in the sight of it. 

The room was like Val’s, with a large four poster bed in the corner and a cozy fireplace in the corner.  Unlike Val’s, which was mostly devoted to books and alcohol, half of the room was devoted to BDSM.  A riding crop hung on the wall along with a number of other tools, all displayed above a table that held a series of locks, restraints, toys, and other tools that Serena didn’t even recognize.  She noticed more restraints built into the bed, and her heart jumped.

“This is where you are to stay,
if
you stay,” Val said, placing the keys back into his pocket.  He watched Serena walk into the room and marvel at it, her hands shaking a little out of excitement and delicious fear.  Of course, we still have to decide if you’re going to stay.  I will not tolerate disobedience and brattiness like what happened this morning.  Do you understand, Serena?”

“Yes, Sir,” she murmured, glancing up at a restraint that was bolted to the ceiling.  She imagined herself cuffed to it, completely helpless, as Val used and abused her body as he saw fit.  The thought of it made her pussy begin throbbing.

“You are to stay here unless I explicitly give you permission to leave,” said Val as he found a seat in the corner in a cushioned armchair.  “Whenever I wish, I may visit you here or order you to come to me.  There is a phone in the top drawer of the vanity in the corner; if you stay, you are to keep this with you at all times so that I may send you orders.”

Val leaned back, taking in the sight of Serena as she stood numbly in the middle of the room.

“Now the real question is, are you going to stay?” said Val.  “Because if you leave again, this ends our contract.  I am understanding, Serena, and will allow this once disobedience to slide.  But another will immediately end our contract.  Do you understand, Serena?”

“Yes, Sir,” she answered, nodding.  She realized it was true the more time she spent in this room, reminded of all the ways that Val could toy with her and twist her heart the way no other man could.  She didn’t want to leave.  She couldn’t.

“Good,” said Val, standing up and going to the wardrobe in the corner of the room.  He opened it and carefully thumbed through a few of the clothes, and Serena caught sight of them: a pink silk dress, a set of black lace lingerie, a latex minidress, a set of blindfolds….  Each pumped filthier and filthier fantasies into her mind.  Her hands shook a little and she had to clasp them together out of fear Val would notice.  God knows what he would do if he realized how powerless she was when it came to him.  Though the threat of that just made her hotter.

“Now,” said Val, pulling out a black robe from the wardrobe.  “I need to ask you another very, very important question, Serena.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Val slipped the robe on and found a seat in the armchair across from the bed, lounging like a tiger inspecting its prey.  Something about his dark gaze turned Serena into putty.  She watched him rake her over with his eyes, and bit her lip, hoping he liked what he saw.  Maybe he was imagining her wearing some of the costumes, she thought.  The idea sent shivers down her back.