18. Roman
For all the pledges I took to not touch a hair on Isabel’s head until the situation was cleared up and settled to her satisfaction, I’m giving myself a zero out of ten for effort.
When she darted down that spiral staircase, locked the library door and removed her goddamn leggings, I thought I was going to have a heart attack.
I had visions of a less feral display of lust, but that notion flew out the window when my fingers slipped between her thighs and discovered her core warm, very wet, and quivering under my touch. Not to mention her big green eyes looking into mine with a hunger that apparently only I could satiate. Which of course went both ways.
And when she begged me to go inside her, that was it for the more graceful lovemaking I’d had in mind to make up for all the bullshit she had to go through before. Then she had to tell me about those damn profiteroles. As if I didn’t already know.
To be frank, there was not a whole lot of anything on either of our minds except chasing our releases. And chase we did. The only thing that kept me from coming right then was sheer greed. Greed to feel her velvet walls clench around my eager cock first before pulling me right over the edge with her.
It was the shortest and greediest fuck in history. I promised myself to do better next time. Tomorrow was my birthday, and I wanted Isabel in my bed in the south wing. Well, after lunch and champagne.
I was dying to sweep the nymph off her feet with nothing holding me back. To show her my apartment and give her a glimpse of what it would be like to live at Belmont Manor. To ease her further into a life she’d have to adapt to.
And yes, to get her naked and ravage her until neither one of us could breathe.
Emily was the perfect wingwoman. She knew the invitation to lunch was for both her and Isabel, but she gracefully declined and accepted on Isabel’s behalf. And suddenly my father had tests freeing Isabel up for the rest of the afternoon.
Tonight when I visited my father’s room, I’d tell Emily the story behind the story. The abridged version, naturally. There was no doubt Emily viewed Isabel as a kind, delicate beauty and not the sultry sex goddess she became when we were alone.
I tried to ignore my nerves suddenly making demands on my peace of mind. This was essentially our first date, and I suppose being typically male I wanted to make an impression on her. What I really wanted was for her to fall in love with the apartment and perhaps imagine herself living there one day.
I was also determined that Isabel should be comfortable and not overwhelmed. It was no use pretending I was a normal man, or that anything in my life was or ever would be normal. That ship sailed days ago, when I took her to the penthouse at the Belmont Hotel.
But tomorrow she’d be formally introduced to my life, and the part of it that demanded most of my time.
Having been in the dark about matters of the heart my entire life, romantic dates didn’t quite feature in my day-to-day planning. The last thing I’d call my occasional social interaction with women was dating, let alone romance.
Thinking back now it was shocking how detached those affairs were. There was no anticipation, no emotional intimacy, and my name and status were the only seductions women needed to get on board for an evening of fun.
So imagine my surprise when Isabel told me Cassie regarded me as more than a man she occasionally had sex with.
Cassie and I were from similar backgrounds, and I considered our interactions a convenience more than anything else. We were well acquainted, and we both knew exactly what was on the agenda for an arranged evening.
Was I really so emotionally blunted as not to realize that Cassie wanted more than just casual sex? If I’d known that, I would have gently disengaged, instead of disappearing off the face of the earth the way I did.
The gentlemanly thing to do now would be to call her and apologize for being so insensitive, but how to explain my assumption was based on speculation, or more aptly, Isabel’s female intuition? I couldn’t imagine Cassie being short of male admirers. And whatever feelings she might harbor for me would surely be extinguished by an adoring man who put her above all else.
But that adoring man was not me. Definitely not me.
Even as I tried to reassure myself, there was no denying the fact that before Isabel, none of this would have made any impression on me.
Suddenly my cavalier attitude toward my previous relationships with women was at war with my conscience. Now I was measuring everyone’s thoughts and feelings according to how the same situation would have affected me were I in their position.
How would a rejection from Isabel impact me? The answer was simple: it would be beyond devastating. I cringed at the possibility that my callous actions could have caused Cassie any hurt. A friendly phone call was probably in order, just to smooth things over.
After I left the library I was at the mercy of my daytime assistant Andy, who had dutifully lined up a blitz of meetings and calls at breakneck speed to free my time tomorrow afternoon.
To say he was curious would be an understatement. But, good man that he was, he remained patient until I felt it necessary to divulge. My nighttime assistant Kayla was a different story. She’d been with me for close to thirteen years, and her loyalty never wavered.
She had the foresight to know that taking Isabel to the penthouse was a significantly different path from my usual social outings with women. I’d never taken a woman to the penthouse or to Belmont Manor. And more than once, Kayla referred to the fact that Isabel might be more than just a one-time fling.
“Mr. Belmont?”
I was yanked out of my state of reverie. When had I ever been so distracted while doing business? Never. This had to stop. Now that Isabel and I were on more solid ground, surely my staunch focus would come roaring back.
On the huge screen before me was a panel of Asian executives from the companies we operated in the East. It was early morning for them and I could sense their resentment at being called in for an unscheduled meeting with me while I was daydreaming instead of taking part in the debate.
I pulled it together and found myself at a bit of a loss as to where we were on the agenda of core business goals and growth objectives. There was only one way to salvage the situation: honesty.
“Please accept my apology,” I said with my boardroom smile. “My mind has been occupied with affairs of the heart. But you have my attention now.”
I could only imagine my father’s reaction to such an outrageously candid confession to executives running his companies. The women and men on the panel laughed, enthusiastically nodding their heads with compassion. Which was unexpected.
The mood turned from formal business gloom to more relaxed, and suddenly the execs were willing to find solutions rather than create more problems. So, the CEO being open and dare I say more human, made the execs loosen up. At a guess that had to do with relatability, since everyone in the world could identify with romantic feelings and their effects. At a guess.
And it seemed that all the money in the world didn’t make one immune to those effects.
“I’m glad you find it all so amusing,” I said, grinning at the sudden camaraderie with people on the other side of the world. One older woman in charge of Asian operations looked at me, pleasantly surprised. “Love suits you, Roman.”
Love? Is this what love felt like? This all-encompassing feeling of warmth and exhilaration?
I acknowledged her comment with a nod and a smile. “So, now that I’ve embarrassed myself, why don’t we retrace our steps, and this time I promise to pay attention.”
And I kept my promise. By the time we wrapped up the meeting, it was close to time for Isabel to leave the building. I considered dashing to the north wing and giving her a proper send-off, but I also realized how nervous she was about any of the staff finding out about us.
Not that I gave a rat’s ass, but I respected Isabel’s wishes. Though I hoped to eventually persuade her it wasn’t a big deal.
I took my place at the window, watching the Lincoln Navigator and waiting for Isabel to make the day’s final appearance. My next business meeting was in a few minutes, but I needed to see her one more time.
When she finally dashed out of the house, darting down the steps to the SUV, she looked up at me, her face aglow with the lingering rays of a setting sun. She released a radiant smile that sent the blood thrumming through my veins and set my heartbeat roaring in my chest.
I returned her smile, even if the late afternoon sun reflecting off my window made it impossible for her to see me.
My immediate reaction was to grab my phone and text her to come back, but I gritted my teeth. We had tomorrow and every day after that. Rushing this would do no one any good, especially Isabel.
My business phone buzzed. It was time for the next meeting, and fortunately it happened to be one of those meetings where my participation was more about my mere presence than actually joining in the conversation. Usually, I’d make it my business to meddle and give my input, but oh how the tides had turned since Isabel danced into my life.
So, not a few minutes into the meeting I relented, reached for my personal phone and texted the nymph.