The Domville 6 (The Domville #6)
Read The Domville 6 (The Domville #6) Online
Authors: C. J. Fallowfield
The
Domville 6
C.J. Fallowfield
Kindle Edition
ASIN: B014K36F1K
Version: EPR
Copyright © 2015 C. J. Fallowfield
All Rights Reserved Worldwide
Any unauthorised reprint or use of this
material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted
in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express
written permission from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, businesses, organisations and places or events, are either the
product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
I am a British author and write in British
English
Image Copyright © 2015
Editing by Karen J
Proofreading by Jasmine Z
Cover Art by Kellie Dennis at
Book Cover by Design
Book content pictures purchased from Dollar
Photo Club and iStock
Written as
standalone quick erotic reads,
The Domville
novellas are told in
alternating points of view of the hotel guests.
My
website
holds the most comprehensive
information about me, as well as my current and up and coming releases and has
the link to sign up to my monthly newsletter.
Filthy/Gorgeous
~ The Scissor Sisters
Rich
Girl
~ Gwen Stefani
Shine ~
Lovefreakz
Somebody
Told Me
~ The Killers
The
Domville 6
is dedicated to Toni Carr, who came up with the idea of long
term friends suddenly sharing a moment of passion at a school reunion.
I’m so lucky
to have so many people who have followed me from my debut novel back in January
2014. Toni is one of those ladies who fell in love with Gabe Austin on first
read and has supported me ever since. Not only does she write heartfelt and
detailed reviews, but she’s recently become one of my beta readers, too. She
tests out my first drafts and helps me shape them into better books, the ones
that you, the reader, get to download and enjoy.
I was lucky
enough to meet Toni at the Second City Signing Event in Birmingham. She is a
genuine and down to earth lady, one I’m happy to call a friend. I hope that we
can meet again soon. Thank you for all that you do and for your support and
friendship.
CJ x
Chapters
Mr. Domville
The Domville chain of six star hotels is my pride
and joy. It took me years of hard grafting to build up to the opening of the
flagship hotel in New York, but it set the benchmark for all other hotels. I
now have one in every major city in the world. All hotels aspire to offer the
level of comfort, service and extra finishing touches that have become standard
in my chain.
Luxury is a word that has become synonymous with
The Domville and I intend for it to stay that way. Especially in my Signature
suites, the crème de la crème of hotel penthouses, affordable only to the rich
and famous. They are protected by bullet proof glass and the interiors are adorned
with suede and calf leather walls, eighteen carat gold trim, and priceless
works of art and artefacts. We also only use luxurious 1200 thread count
Egyptian cotton sheets, embroidered with 22-carat gold, at $2,400 a sheet. What
really sets us apart though, are state of the art heat signature cameras, to
enable staff to observe and come and go undetected, to clean up and replenish
supplies.
My staff are only appointed after a long and
vigorous assessment, our customer service has to be second to none and when it
comes to our Signature suite guests, nothing is too much trouble. Nothing is
impossible.
As for my guests, well they come from all walks of
life, but the one overriding common denominator is money. My guests are people
of means. They pay top dollar because they expect the best and that’s what we
offer, no exceptions. While my clientele may be financially secure, it goes
without saying that their private lives can be somewhat risqué. If only I had
normal cameras to capture what really happened in my hotel suites, then I truly
would be the richest man in the world.
There’s a well-known saying that most definitely
applies to the guests of The Domville, no matter which country they may be
staying in.
No one
knows what goes on behind closed doors.
Friday
‘Ok, Charlie, what do you think? Go, or stay in and
sulk?’ I asked, waving the university ten year reunion invitation at him.
He stopped watching TV when he heard his name and looked
over at me, his eyes giving away no clue as to what he was thinking, before he
quickly turned back to watch it again. ‘Yeah, I have no answer either,’ I
sighed, looking back down at the white embossed piece of card. Ten years.
Ten
years
, I thought as I stared at the fancy black writing, inviting me to The
London Domville ballroom. Part of me thought it might be worth going. It was
the same as when I left school, everyone said “let’s stay in touch” but rarely
did. Uni had been one of the best experiences of my life, but I hadn’t made
that many friends there. Alexis had been my best friend, female one anyway.
Then there was
him.
Finian Delany. The Irish charmer, with his stormy
blue eyes and wild untameable dark locks. Not to mention that gym buffed, honed
to within an inch of its life body that he loved to flaunt in board shorts
during the summer. Damn him. I’d gone nearly a week without thinking about him and
now my heart was trotting at a faster pace and my palms were clammy.
‘Fat lot of help you are,’ I muttered at a silent Charlie
as I dropped the invite on the hall table. I went to the kitchen to make myself
a coffee. I sat at the dining table, propping my elbows on the solid oak
surface as I cradled my mug, inhaling the steam and letting out a heavy, and
frustrated, sigh. Finian Delany. My God, how did someone I hadn’t seen, or even
heard from, in ten years make my body respond like that? We’d met on the first
day of college. I’d dropped an armful of books in the library as I’d rounded
the corner of the stacks and seen a gorgeous looking guy, casually reclined in
the window seat with his head in a book and a studious look on his face. There
was nothing hotter than a guy who loved to read. Unless you counted a guy with
movie star looks and a pair of trendy black rimmed specs, who also had a book
in his hand. I smiled as I remembered the moment that our eyes had locked, when
he lifted his head to see what had caused such an almighty racket in the
usually quiet library. He’d physically taken my breath away. I’d never seen a
guy who made my heart race in an instant, or my palms sweat, or legs tremble.
Those eyes of his were hypnotic and his
lips
. I heard a throaty moan
leave mine as I remembered how many times I’d fantasised about his lips on
mine.
I shook myself out of my daze and took a gulp of coffee.
I was thirty-one years old now, not a sixteen year old with a crush on the one
guy she shouldn’t. That day in the library had been both a blessing and a
curse. When he’d dropped his book on the cushioned seat and rushed to help me
gather my books from the floor, I’d met the guy who was to become my best male
friend for the next five years. With the exception of different classes, we’d
become glued to the hip with our shared love of literature and fun. As well as
my best friend Alexis, who was often busy with relationships of her own, I suddenly
had someone else to laugh hysterically with, to watch out for me, to protect me
when guys in the bars got too leery and to hold my hair back when I was being
sick after a drunken night out. I even had someone to hold me when I was upset,
to wipe away my tears over the various dating disasters I’d had and spend the
night in my bed, holding me tightly and telling me I deserved better. That was
where the curse came in. Hard as I’d tried not to, I’d fallen for him. I’d been
sure that he wasn’t just my best friend, but that he was my soul mate. I’d
never felt the level of attraction to any man that I had to Finian.
I drank some more coffee as a wave of sadness washed over
me. I’d never told him how I felt, too scared to ruin an amazing friendship.
We’d been hideously drunk at the party to celebrate us both getting into the
same university and I’d grabbed him and kissed him. Straight on those full,
soft lips. He’d been so surprised, he’d fallen backwards off his bar stool and
knocked himself out cold on the flagstone floor. We’d spent the night in A&E
as they’d pumped his stomach and kept him in for a concussion. When he’d woken
up in the morning, with me curled up in the chair at his side, he’d asked what
had happened. I’d told him that we’d been in
The Crown and Feathers,
testing
the water to see if he remembered. He’d groaned and asked if he’d made a fool
of himself in front of Amy De Lucca. Amy was the girl every guy at college
wanted. If she was the poster girl for perfection, Finian was the male
equivalent. With his good looks, buff body, Irish lilt and charm, he was the
guy that all the girls wanted. But he was the biggest tart out there. Totally
upfront about the fact, but that didn’t stop a long line of broken-hearted
girls coming to cry on my shoulder when he brushed them off after having his way
with them. Asking after Amy had silenced my feelings for him immediately. He
didn’t remember the kiss and he didn’t want me.
I shook my head. For a guy who shagged around and didn’t
like to commit, he had a heart bigger than the moon. No one had ever been as
attentive to me as Finian had been. It was like we had the best relationship in
the world, just without the sex. I’d been too scared to show or tell him how I
felt again. Too worried I’d end up cast aside like all those other girls, just
like Amy De Lucca. She’d been his longest “relationship.” They lasted a whole
summer, before he told her that he couldn’t commit to anyone while he was away
at uni. She’d come crying on my shoulder as well, totally distraught, begging
and pleading with me to try and get him to change his mind. I’d heard it all,
from every single one of them. How amazing his kisses were, how skilled he was
in bed, how romantic and caring he could be, how he was the perfect guy. Right
up until the moment he moved on. I didn’t want to hear it. I’d never understood
what they all had that I didn’t. I mean sure, Amy was in a different league,
with her cheerleader body and blonde Barbie doll looks, but he’d been with some
girls that were a darn sight less attractive than me. Yet not once,
not once
had he tried it on with me. I still felt hurt by that fact. It had knocked my
self-worth really badly.
I drained my coffee, then jogged upstairs to the bedroom
and took a long hard look at myself in the mirror. I was only five foot four,
but I was in shape, if you didn’t count the fact that I’d always had more
curves than I’d have liked. A bit too much junk in the trunk in my honest
opinion, but it didn’t seem to put off many men. In fact, it had received its
fair share of slaps and gropes over the years. I considered myself to be attractive.
Not stunning like Amy, but pretty. I had pale skin covered in freckles, with a
long mane of naturally kinked mocha coloured hair. My best feature, as I was
repeatedly told, was my green eyes. They reflected my moods so easily and
usually they sparkled with life and happiness. I’d always been bubbly and
vivacious, but this morning they looked dull and defeated and I knew why. It
was him. Finian. Just the thought of maybe seeing him again had my body in a
spin, but mentally I so didn’t want to go there. I was still feeling hurt and
betrayed by him. When we’d graduated, he’d accepted a job working for a huge
firm of architects, supervising the main building projects in Dubai, which had
been rapidly expanding at the time. He’d promised to call the moment he landed
and to give me his new mobile number so we could keep in touch. He’d talked
about flying me over to spend time with him when he was settled in, for us to
Skype every night to share the day’s news, like we’d always done in person. We’d
gone out graduation night, got hideously drunk, as we always did, and when I
woke the next morning, he was gone.
I hadn't heard from him since.
I’d tried to contact him via the prestigious firm he
worked for, but always got the message that he wasn’t available. He was in a
meeting or out with clients, he’d call me back. After a dozen or so unreturned messages,
I began to feel like a stalker and a loser. I’d cried my eyes out for days,
unable to comprehend what in the world I’d done wrong to have him cut me out of
his life like that. We’d spent nearly every day together for five years. The
only exceptions were the rare times when he went without me to visit his family
in Ireland, but we’d still spoken or texted every day. I’d not only lost my
best friend that day he left, but he’d taken my heart with him. I cursed myself
as tears welled up in my eyes. The wounds were still as fresh today as they’d
been all those years ago.
‘Pull yourself together, Toni,’ I admonished myself.
‘You’re a grown woman now, not some lust-fuelled teen.’ I brushed my hair into
a sleek ponytail and did my light work makeup, then dressed in my black trouser
suit, with an oyster silk blouse and a pair of black heels. I was rummaging in
my jewellery box when I heard the front door open then close.
‘Toni, I’m here,’ came Mum’s voice. I checked my watch.
Damn it, all that daydreaming had made me run later than normal.
‘Be down in a second,’ I called. I quickly put in some
studs and slipped on a necklace and ring, then grabbed my handbag and
briefcase, thankful I’d packed it for today’s meeting last night, and raced
down the stairs. She was waiting for me at the bottom.
‘Morning, Mum. Ok?’
‘I’m great. Where is he?’
‘Probably in the lounge,’ I advised as I kissed her
cheek. It was a blessing to have her live only a few doors away so she could
come and watch Charlie when I needed to go out. ‘I can’t stop or I’ll be late.
You know the drill, he’s already had breakfast, don’t overdo it with snacks
before lunch. I’ll be back this afternoon.’
‘No problem. Hope your meeting goes well,’ she smiled.
‘Bye, Charlie,’ I called as I grabbed my car keys from
the bowl on the hall table and shoved the invite in my handbag. ‘No time for
cuddles and kisses I’m afraid, Mummy’s late. Grandma’s here, but I’ll be back
this afternoon. See you later, be a good boy for her.’
I slammed the door behind me and hurried down the path,
closing the wrought iron gate behind me and de-activating the alarm on my VW
Golf. I tossed my handbag and briefcase onto the passenger seat and quickly
strapped myself in, then tapped the co-ordinates for my destination into my
satnav and headed off. I ran my own business, with a small office in the city,
but worked mainly from home, visiting customers at a place of their choosing. I
was an events manager for high profile clients. I organised parties for all the
A-listers in London, as well as their children. I’d always been organised and
methodical, as well as a people person, so it had seemed the perfect choice
when I’d graduated. I’d secured myself a job with a well-respected events
organisation and had quickly worked my way up the ranks, pulling in enough
commission to branch out on my own. It had been the best decision I’d ever
made. I was earning more money, had less stress and I got to spend more time at
home with Charlie.
I’d tried so hard to distract myself from thinking about
Finian. It wasn’t healthy to obsess over relationships that had failed for
whatever reason, I knew that. In trying to forget him I’d thrown all of the things
that reminded me of Finian, when a year had passed with no contact from him.
Every movie ticket stub, every card and letter, even all of the photographs.
I’d needed a clean break to try and move on. Other than my degree, Alexis and Charlie,
I now had no mementos of my three years at university. My hands free system rang
and I clicked the accept button.
‘Toni Bradbury, Bradbury Events Management,’ I answered
breezily.
‘Toni!’ came a screech so loud that I almost swerved into
the line of parked cars to my left.
‘Jesus, Alexis,’ I laughed as I composed myself after my
best friend’s greeting. ‘You nearly caused an accident.’
‘Sorry, I’m just so excited. Did you get the invitation?’
‘Yes,’ I confirmed, checking left and right as I reached
the end of my road.
‘I spoke to Sharon Roberts this morning and you won’t
believe
who’s going.’
‘Don’t tell me Daron Beck is out already?’ I asked,
turning right. Daron had been one of our graduating year and probably the most
successful of all of us, in a fashion. He’d become a leading Hollywood actor, earning
a fortune, but that was where his success ended. He’d been banged up last year
for some hideous offences.
‘As if. After the dirt they dug up on him, he’ll be
behind bars for a long time. Never liked the guy, he was a sleaze ball.’
‘Yet you slept with him,’ I reminded her.
‘Well, yeah, he was hot. Can’t believe you resisted.
Anyway, talking of resistance, how’s yours going to hold up?’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, following the instructions
of the robotic voice of my satnav as I approached a roundabout.
