3. Daniel
3
DANIEL
I was not expecting that gorgeous redhead from the other weekend to walk into my gallery. I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind, I don’t even think we swapped names. She wasn’t anything I was looking for, but as soon as I laid eyes on her I knew I wanted her. Thank fuck the feeling was mutual. Fueled by something in the air, when she suggested a walk through the gardens of the estate, I gladly followed. The next thing I knew I had her bent over a stone table and was fucking her.
Fuck, I remember how tight she was. The sounds that fell from her mouth as I fucked her. The pleading, the gasping, I remember everything, and then she ran. Usually, I’m the one who can’t get away fast enough. It’s weird having the tables turned on me.
And now here she is walking in with my best friend’s fiancée as her work colleague.
Dammit, Ivy, for making her off-limits.
I try not to mix business and pleasure. It may not seem that way thanks to Ivy’s teasing. Unfortunately, taking in the gorgeous redhead beside Ivy, looking like an innocent English rose, with those verdant eyes, smattering of freckles across her nose, and pouty blush pink lips, I want her again. And the crimson tint to her apple cheeks is a sharp contrast to the fiery glare she sent my way when I pretended not to know who she was.
“Are you really going to come to dinner next week?” Ivy asks, pulling me from my thoughts about her designer.
I know it’s a dick thing to not attend my friends’ dinners, but they are all happy and in love, and then there’s me, the odd one out.
“Is Rosie going to be there?” I smirk.
“Don’t you touch her, you hear me. She’s a good girl and someone like you will only break her heart,” Ivy warns.
I know just how good she can be. “Am I that bad?”
Ivy’s face softens. “You’re a good guy who likes variety,” Ivy explains. She’s not wrong. I do love women. All women. “Rose is an accomplished woman whose focus is on her career, and I won’t have you disrupting that. Go play somewhere else just not in my company.” The last sentence is said as a warning.
It’s a little too late for that. “I’ll be on my best behavior.” I grin at her which has her shaking her head.
“How are things with your brother?”
“He’s currently in Ibiza, falling for his assistant.”
“The one he hated you for hiring?” Ivy asks.
“Yep, that one. After Monaco and everything that happened there …” Ivy nods in understanding, “… I think it’s brought the two of them closer.”
“There’s a fine line between hate and love. Is he happy?”
“I think he is,” I answer, shoving my hands into my pockets.
“He deserves that and so do you.”
“I don’t have time. My artists are demanding enough as it is. Adding in a girlfriend who will want more time than I can give won’t work.”
“When you find the right woman, you will do anything to be with her.” Ivy smirks.
Yeah. Yeah. I’ve heard this statement before from my friends, it’s one of the reasons I started skipping dinners. “Anyway, enough about me. I have some amazing pieces that I think your clients are going to love.”
We spend the next hour combing through painting after painting for Ivy’s clients. Every now and again, my attention is pulled to where Rosie and Delphine are talking, but Ivy is right, if I need to de-stress, I should head to The Paradise Club, not flirt with her employee. Even if the memory of her gorgeous, peachy, alabaster ass jiggling with each thrust into her is an image I can’t seem to remove from my mind.
“Rosie, come,” Ivy calls her over. It’s the exact thing I’ve said to her, too. “Walk with Daniel. He will explain how to choose the right piece as an investment for our clients, not just for its aesthetics.”
Rosie nods as Ivy and Delphine walk away, leaving me alone with her. I can smell the crushed raspberry scent of her perfume as it tickles my nose. Behave.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” I tell her as I walk her toward the back of the gallery, where I know it will be easier to have this conversation.
“So, your memory is working,” she bites back, keeping her distance from me.
“Unless you wanted me to tell Ivy we know each other intimately. That your tight little cunt strangled my cock till I couldn’t take it any longer.”
Rosie gasps, her cheeks heat, and she frantically looks around the gallery, wondering if anyone heard my comment. “You can’t say those things.”
“Yes, I can.”
She shakes her head. “No, you can’t,” she says firmly. “You are my boss’ friend and a colleague.”
“Such a shame, my cock misses you,” I declare, making her skin from her neck to the tips of her ears turn bright red.
“Stop it,” Rosie hisses.
“Fine,” I tell her rolling my eyes, I’ll respect what she’s saying for today. “How much do you know about art, Rosie?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Not a lot. I know what looks good in a room.”
“I can work with that.” I start to give her a bit of a short course in art history. I explain to her as I pick out certain art pieces, who they are by, and why they are going to be worth money in the future. She takes it all in, listening to what I am saying and asking questions where needed. “You like working with Ivy?” I ask as we stand in front of a piece that might look right. Ivy has sent over the mock-ups already of the project and the places she would like the art pieces.
“She’s fantastic,” Rosie says as her eyes narrow on the piece we are assessing. I stand behind her and point out all the different elements of the art, explaining to her the story behind the piece. I watch as each word I speak against her ear reddens it just a touch. I notice the goosebumps that my presence gives her. I most certainly want my hands on Miss Rosie Hunt again. She swallows softly as her tongue slides out and licks her lips all while she stares at the piece. My eyes look down and I see the unsteady beat of her breath. I’m affecting her, which makes my dick twitch to life.
“I think we’ve got everything.” Ivy’s voice cuts the spell I’m weaving, and Rosie steps away from me and the look on her face is one of annoyance. Oh, little one, you’re annoyed because if we were alone, you would have let me slide my hands up that skirt and sink my fingers inside you while I whispered dirty words into your ear. Ivy’s eyes narrow on me as she looks between me and her employee, but Delphine pulls her attention away asking her a question.
“Hope I was able to help today?” I ask Rosie.
Rosie glares at me. “You’ve made me look at art differently.”
“Then my work here is done.” I chuckle, smiling at her. She returns the smile only slightly as she starts to walk away from me toward where Ivy is signing off on the invoice for the art.
“I’ll be in touch regarding the delivery day,” Delphine states.
“Thanks, Delphine.” Ivy smiles at my assistant. “Are you two ready to grab some lunch?”
I nod as I check my pocket to make sure I have my wallet and phone. Rosie says her goodbyes to Delphine, and I follow the two women outside. “This way, ladies,” I say, escorting them toward my go-to lunch place around the corner.
“Mr. DuPont, it’s lovely to see you again.” Sasha, the manager of the restaurant greets me warmly. I know she wouldn’t mind warming my bed, but because I love this lunch spot way too much it’s not worth going there.
“Sasha, always a pleasure, a table for three, please.”
She gives me a smile and ushers us into the busy restaurant to one of the best tables in the corner. Rosie takes one side and Ivy takes the other, leaving the only spot free right beside Rosie.
“I come here three times a week, the food is delicious, my shout,” I tell the girls.
Rosie picks up her menu and disappears behind it.
“Very generous of you, Daniel.” Ivy smirks.
“Only fair seeing as you spent an insane amount of money with me today.”
“Those pieces are going to look stunning. They are going to love them, they’re perfect. I knew you would have the goods,” Ivy says as she starts flipping through the menu.
“You have a great eye,” I say, paying her a compliment. “Which one was your favorite, Rosie?” I ask, directing my question to her. Those apple cheeks tint again as she has my full attention. I’m curious, wondering what she will say.
“I don’t know, there were so many beautiful pieces,” she answers diplomatically.
I turn in my seat so I am facing her. “I chose well but that’s not an answer. There had to be one that stood out?”
Those green eyes widen in surprise at my comment, which has Ivy chuckling beside us.
“He takes his job seriously, Rosie, he will badger you until you give him an answer,” Ivy tells her.
Her cheeks deepen in color under the full gaze of my stare. She sucks in her bottom lip, putain (fuck), I am trying to be strong, but this little one is testing me.
“I’m always curious about what people think and feel when they see work my artists have created,” I explain to them.
Ivy’s phone starts ringing, and she excuses herself from the table, leaving the two of us alone together.
Rosie fidgets in her spot as she tries to find an answer to my question.
“There’s no wrong answer. It could be something as simple as I love that color combination,” I reassure her.
She lets out a frustrated huff. “I liked the painting you have in the front window. Something about the way the woman is peering at the edge of the cliff, I don’t know, it makes me curious,” she finally answers.
Interesting. “What do you think she’s thinking?”
Her brows pull together as she contemplates my question. “I don’t know.”
“Do you want to know what I think she’s thinking?” I ask her. She nods for me to continue. “I believe she's come to a fork in the road. She can either turn around and return to the past, or she can take a leap off the cliff into the unknown future.”
Rose smiles. “I can see that … or she could be escaping the king who has locked her up, forcing her to marry him. She escapes, and she could either stay and marry someone she doesn’t love or leap to her death.”
I stare in amazement at her. Where did that come from?
“That’s silly, ignore what I said.” I see the embarrassment rise across her skin.
“No, I like it. What made you think of that?” I question her, curious.
“I think I’ve been reading too many romance books.” She giggles as her cheeks continue to bloom pink.
It’s the cutest thing. Who am I? Cute? So, Rosie Hunt likes to read? An image invades my mind of her laid out naked against a fur rug in front of a fire lost in a book while I’m lost in her cunt. Perfection. Stop it. This girl is waving romantic, commitment green flags right in front of your face.
“That’s an interesting take,” I say, reaching out and taking a sip of my water. “What are your books about? Must be good if that painting evokes such a reaction,” I question her.
She sighs. “They’re romantic fantasy, you know, like other worlds and things,” she explains before turning back to the menu, obviously not comfortable talking about it. See, she is a romantic. Green flags. Stay away.
Suddenly Ivy is back. “Sorry, team, I must go. There’s drama with an installation I need to sort out. Daniel, thanks for today. See you at dinner next week,” she warns. I nod. “Rosie, thanks for your help, I’ll see you back in the office next week. It’s Friday. Stay, have a drink, and enjoy the food here, it’s great,” Ivy says, grabbing her coat and bag before disappearing.
“Guess it’s just us then.” I grin, Thank you universe. I turn my attention back to Rosie who does not look comfortable. I haven’t had that reaction from women who’ve been stuck alone with me before. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink after the shit week I’ve had.” Raising my hand for the waiter to come over, I order a scotch, neat, and then turn to her.
“I’m fine,” she says curtly.
“Come on, it’s Friday. Your boss said you’re off the clock. One drink, I promise to behave,” I say, holding up my hands.
She rolls her eyes at me and orders a glass of champagne from the waiter. “You can move to the other side of the table if you like,” she points to the spot Ivy just vacated.
I hesitate before getting up and moving, her shoulders visibly relax as I take a seat. “So, tell me more about your books,” I ask.
She shakes her head. “There’s nothing to tell. They’re books.”
“Romance books, is it like porn?” Because if it is that is something I can get behind.
Rosie rolls her eyes as if she’s heard that question a million times. “Are they spicy? Yes, but porn they are not,” she answers bluntly.
I might have hit a nerve there, ease back a little. “Like how spicy?”
“Depends, but they can get spicy, very spicy ,” she answers with a shrug as if it’s no big deal.
“Ever role-played then?”
Rosie stills. “That seems like a rather inappropriate question don’t you think?”
“My dick has been inside of you. I think we are past inappropriate, don’t you?”
She gasps at my words before those cheeks blossom pink again. “Would you stop throwing that night in my face? Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“I’m sure you flutter those blues and women fall at your feet,” she says, rolling her eyes yet again.
“I’m doing it now, but you appear to not be falling,” I tease.
“Falling for bullshit,” she snips and then covers her mouth. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Rosie, relax. You won’t be in trouble for calling me out. It’s not the first time I’ve heard it.”
The waiter brings over our drinks interrupting our chat. Rosie grabs hers and takes a large gulp.
“So back to these books.” I chuckle as I take a sip of my scotch.
“I’m not answering any more questions about them,” she snips.
“Fine, I’ll change the subject. Are you seeing anyone?”
Rosie glares at me from across the table. “You seriously think I would have been with you if I was seeing someone. I’m not a cheat.” She huffs. It’s good to know she is against cheating, that is my non-negotiable. I saw my father do it to my mother their entire marriage and watched the way it destroyed her. I will not do it nor have someone do it to me. I am not opposed to having fun with a partner at The Paradise Club, but I’ve never dated anyone I’ve wanted to take there.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think you would have slept with me if you were dating someone.” Rosie relaxes a little. “It’s been weeks thought you could have met someone since.”
Her brows pull together as those green eyes narrow on me angrily. “You think I just fall into bed with men I meet, do you?”
“No, of course I don’t, you don’t seem like that, especially since you mentioned that night, I was your first one-night stand.”
“And it was the truth.”
“I’m sure it was. What I’m asking is do you think I can get a second night?”
Rosie’s mouth falls open in surprise at my comment. “This isn’t a date.”
“I wouldn’t bring you here if this were one, I would plan something nicer,” I tell her.
“I’m not interested in dating, I’m focused on my career.”
“What about sex then, if you’re not into having hookups?” I press.
Rosie stares at me, those long, dark lashes blinking slowly. “I don’t need it.”
“Let me guess, you probably have a powerful vibrator.”
“Is this a French thing talking so openly about sex?” she asks through gritted teeth.
“Maybe, English people can be so uptight when it comes to sex.”
“I’m not uptight,” she says, her voice rising.
“You most certainly weren’t uptight at all that night.”
Rosie looks down at the table and starts playing with her cutlery.
“Do you regret that night?” I ask, the slightest insecurity coming through. Silence falls between us.
Oh. Shit. She does.
“No,” her answer is a quiet whisper.
“But you’re not interested in another round?” I ask her honestly.
She lets out a long sigh. “It doesn’t matter, we now work together.” That wasn’t a no. “My reputation means everything to me. I’ve worked too hard for that to be taken from me because of a drunken night.”
I hear you, Rosie, loud and clear.
“Sounds like you’re doing well from the praise Ivy has given and she doesn’t give praise lightly.”
Rosie’s face lights up as she starts talking, “Ivy is amazing. Getting to work with her is honestly a dream come true. I love what I do, bringing my clients’ dreams to reality. I hope one day my future is as bright as Ivy’s.”
“With the billionaire fiancé?” I question her. She doesn’t seem like a gold digger, but I have been fooled before.
Rosie looks offended by my comment. “No, I don’t care about money, I do well on my own. You’re friends with them so you probably see it all the time, but they are couple goals. He is her biggest cheerleader as she is to him. They look like they are each other’s best friends.”
She’s not wrong. “My other two friends are as nauseating as Alex and Ivy.”
“Let me guess, you’re the single one of the group,” she asks and I can hear the sarcasm dripping from her words.
“By choice.” Rosie huffs as if she disagrees. “You don’t think it’s by choice?”
“Oh, I know it’s by choice. You seem like the kind of man that likes style over substance.”
“I mustn’t have done that the night I met you.”
Rosie huffs. “I chose you.”
I raise a brow at her. “Really, now?” I lean forward, interested in what she has to say about that.
“You looked like the kind of man who … you know …” she says, waving her hand at me.
I shake my head. “I can assure you, Miss Hunt, I don’t know.”
A tiny grumble falls from those plush pink lips. “You’re a playboy.”
I’m a little taken aback that is how she perceives me. “You seem to have dated a few of them?”
“Oh no, I steer clear of them.”
“Except for me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew what I wanted, and you were the person who I knew would give it to me,” she answers honestly.
“So, you used me?”
Rosie’s face falls upon hearing my words. “It wasn’t like that. Most men aren’t turning down some fun in the bushes. You used me, too.”
“And I asked you to come home with me, does that seem like using you?”
“Doesn’t matter now, does it? Things have changed, and whatever happened can never happen again. Delphine explained it’s a common occurrence so I’m fine with leaving things as they are,” she says, throwing her napkin on the table and standing up. “I appreciate the art lesson today, Mr. DuPont, I learned a lot, but I think I should go before this working relationship sours.”
Fucking, Delphine.
“I don’t want you to leave, Rosie. Please stay, it may not seem like it, but I’m enjoying your company. You don’t take my bullshit. You at least deserve lunch as a thank you for listening to me drone on about art.” She eyes me suspiciously but slowly sits down. “Look, it’s been a shit of a week, actually, it’s been a shit couple of months which isn’t an excuse, but seeing you again has been a highlight.”
“Seeing me has been a highlight? Is that a line you use on women,” she questions.
“No.” Picking up my tumbler of scotch, I swill the amber liquid in the glass. “Like I said, it’s been a shit time.” I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” I ask, my head tilting as I look across the table at her. “It’s not your fault.”
“That you’re having a rough time.”
“Family, what are you going to do?” I throw back the last of my scotch and ask the waiter for another round. “And just so you know, Delphine didn’t tell you the whole truth when she gave you, her warning.”
Rosie’s eyes narrow on me, and if given the chance, I think she would flip me off if we weren’t in the middle of a high-end restaurant in the middle of Mayfair. “Delphine’s been overprotective ever since a woman I had an encounter with didn’t like that I didn’t want to continue after a couple of dates. Unfortunately, she turned into a stalker, and things went downhill from there. I now have a restraining order which stopped the stalking, and I haven’t heard anything in months.”
“That sounds scary.”
“I’ll be honest, it was. And as much as I am this ‘playboy’ ,” I say, using my fingers as air quotes, “as you so call me, I haven’t dated much since then.”
“Don’t blame you,” she says as she takes a sip of her champagne.
“This isn’t a sob story for you to feel sorry for me. Just giving you context. Maybe we could start over?” I ask.
Silence falls between us again as Rosie mulls over my question.
“Hi, I’m Rosie Hunt. I’m a designer at Starr Designs. It’s nice to meet you,” she says, giving me her hand across the table.
“Daniel DuPont. Art agent and DuPont gallery owner. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” I say, shaking her hand.