The Passion

Chapter 1

Chapter One

FELISHA

“ I can’t believe we are even related…” I’m staring out at the Thames River from my office on level 28 of The Shard and thinking about my father who is upstairs in his apartment on level 60. He wouldn’t live anywhere else except the most iconic and talked-about new building here.

London, my home, the place I love with a passion.

I’ve traveled widely all my life, but nothing feels like home until I’m whisking through central London in the back of my white Mercedes S Class. Windows tinted so dark that no one can see me, just the way I like it.

The sight of black cabs and red buses tells me I’m home.

“I mean, I love him dearly, but seriously. When will he finally realize that I’m not his ten-year-old little girl anymore?” I cup my favorite large sky-blue fine bone China teacup in my hands.

“You were never a ten-year-old girl. From the time I met you it was like you were this woman on a mission to run the world. Not much has changed, really. I mean, just look at you, sitting in your office looking down on the world, dripping in gold and with diamonds on your fingers, dressed in the finest Gucci tailored suit and a pair of limited-edition Louboutin shoes!” Harper starts laughing as she walks over to stand beside me. She might be my best friend and someone I have known most of my life, but our stories couldn’t be any more different if we tried.

I come from old English money. And much to my father’s disgust, he keeps being reminded that some of his money comes from his inheritance. He would love to be able to say he amassed the fortune with all his hard work, but the truth is, more money than he could ever spend was passed to him, and his only job was to make sure it continued to grow. Instead, he tells people he inherited only a small amount, and the rest is all his doing.

Although, he does like the title that goes with it. Being called Lord is right up his alley. As for me, I can’t stand it. I try so hard not to use my title of Lady if I can get away with it.

I am the fourth generation in our family to help run the family empire. But if my father had his way, I’m sure that wouldn’t be the case. Because I am the first female about to take the reins and remove his control away from him on my next birthday. My fortieth birthday can’t come soon enough. Only eleven more months, but who’s counting.

Harper, however, is American and moved to London with her family when she turned seven, and luckily for me, has never returned. Her father made his money in tech startups and then began his own investment company in the UK as well as the USA. But like so many businessmen, he got greedy and took risks that he shouldn’t have and then lost it all. Including his wife, family, and sadly, his life when an investor who had lost their hard-earned savings murdered him after he went back to the US to try to hide from the British media. That left his wife and three daughters to cope with the fallout. Something Harper will never forgive him for.

We were just finishing university in Oxford when we met, and her mother had been left with a mountain of debt and nowhere to live. My mother moved them all into one of our apartments, and as soon as I started my role in the company, I hired Harper as my assistant to make sure she had money to support the rest of the family until they could find their footing.

Our mothers are still the best of friends, and while my mother and father had divorced by the time I turned fifteen because my father is an asshole, Harper’s mother managed to find a beautiful man and eventually remarried. They are blissfully happy, and she feels like she is finally safe and secure, and that’s all any of us want in life.

My mother, on the other hand, is still single and living the life of a London socialite and burning through my father’s money the best way she knows how. By spoiling herself with the best of everything.

She loves living the life of Lady Ivy Kentwall, refusing to change her name after the divorce just to further annoy my father. She was his third wife. After he had failed to get a child from the first two marriages, he chose a much younger woman to try his chances. Mum was only nineteen and was an intern in his office. Just ripe for the picking. Blonde, beautiful, and vulnerable. She fell for the wealthy man who showered her with gifts and attention until she married him and became pregnant straight away. But once I was born, she suffered complications which meant no more children, then she said, things changed dramatically.

He wanted an heir, a son, but instead, he got me. She put up with his cheating and constant disrespect until I was old enough that she knew I could cope in this world. Then she walked out and slapped him with a huge divorce settlement. Mum knew he would never let her have custody of me, but I was away at boarding school by then, so it wasn’t going to hurt me.

I realized from a very young age that he didn’t love my mother, but as much as he can be the biggest asshole and a completely arrogant, self-absorbed prick, I hope that he at least loves me a little, in his own way. At least I tell myself that every day. My therapist tells me it will help, but I’m not entirely convinced.

At the end of the day, he is my father, and I will always love him. Because that’s what you do, you love your parents, it’s part of your DNA. But that doesn’t stop me from hating him most days and others wanting to stab him with a very blunt object, just so it’ll hurt more.

Harper has had many offers over the years to take other jobs, because she is totally overqualified and too experienced for her title now, but she won’t leave me. We both know she is so much more than my assistant. As soon as I am the CEO, she will become my second-in-charge, and I will make sure she is finally given the recognition she deserves. Recognition that my father refuses to acknowledge.

“Oh, like you can talk! We shop in the same places, and aren’t you the woman out to make every man she meets pay for the sins of the man before?” We look at each other, knowing deep down that they are all paying for the sins of her father, but no amount of therapy has helped her get past that. We both keep our therapist in a very comfortable lifestyle with the amount we pay him.

“Whatever. They are all just useful for one thing, to scratch an itch. Their money means nothing to me. I will never let a man control me. My life, my money, and occasionally their cock is all I need.” Harper raises her teacup toward me, and as we clink them together, I can’t help but wonder if she will ever find her happily ever after.

I haven’t given up looking for mine, but it’s hard when you’re the heir to a billion-dollar fortune, a high-powered executive, and no one is ever good enough for you in your own opinion or in the eyes of either of your parents. My mother doesn’t want me to be with someone who will treat me like my father treated her, and my father doesn’t want anyone near me unless he has a title and his own money so he doesn’t have to share in the family fortune. It’s hard to trust that a man is truly looking at you, the real you, and that his vision isn’t clouded by all the bullshit that surrounds you.

“Amen to that, sister!” Walking back toward my desk, I still need to solve the problem of my father and the way he is treating the cleaners in our chain of hotels. Over a thousand hard-working staff in our London hotels alone, and he doesn’t believe they deserve a pay raise, even though they are on an extremely low salary, in my eyes. These are the people who are working to put food on the table in their homes, and although I don’t want for anything, I know the rest of the country is struggling with the cost of living right now.

“Back to the problem at hand. How can my father sit upstairs in his apartment where he is completely untouchable, spending more money on his stupid bottles of red wine that he doesn’t even drink, than these people earn in a year? How can he live with himself? It’s just so wrong. Doesn’t he even have a conscience?” It’s a rhetorical question because I know the answer is hell no!

“I don’t even need to ask. I’m assuming you want me to work out how we can get extra money to these workers and hide it in the general expenses somewhere?” Harper sits back down on the other side of the desk, picking up her tablet and typing away as she makes herself notes.

“See, this is why even if you wanted to take another job, I wouldn’t let you go. You are inside my brain, and it makes my life so much easier.” I look at my inbox on one of my monitors, where the number of emails seems to be multiplying by the minute today.

“And here I thought it was because you love me like the sister you never had and can’t live without me. Pfft.” Rolling her eyes at me, she stands, knowing I still have so much to do before I leave for the night.

“Yeah, that too. Love you.” I blow her a kiss as she turns to start walking out of my office.

“Yes, yes, so you say.” She waves her hand above her shoulder to dismiss me, and deep in my heart, I’m so grateful for the day she walked into my class at St. Paul’s Girls School in London. She makes me believe in past lives, because I’m sure we’ve met before in another time, and she was definitely my sister in that life.

Finding myself sitting in the Beaufort Bar at The Savoy, I run my fingers up and down the stem of my champagne glass, feeling the restlessness in my body from all the stress of today. It’s days like today that make going home to my apartment after work feel so lonely.

Harper was busy with one of her sisters’ family, so I decided to stop off here on my way home. Just to take the edge off, and to be honest, I didn’t feel like drinking alone.

Instead, I’m sitting at the bar and keeping Celine, the bartender, company. Or maybe, truth be told, she is the one keeping me company.

Engrossed in my thoughts of the day and staring into my champagne, my senses are awakened by a strong scent that drifts past me. It has a hint of sweetness mixed with a strong sense of manly yum! I can’t even explain it, but all I know is my whole body responds to it. A strange sensation that I haven’t felt before runs down my spine. Straightening up in my seat, I look into the mirror at the back of the bar to try to take a glance, one that isn’t super obvious, at the man who is walking behind me.

Just as I focus, his back is now to me, and all I see is a dark navy suit jacket, wide shoulders, and the back of a brown-haired head. The hairstyle is trimmed neatly and doesn’t have a hair out of place. He is talking with another man who seems a little older than him and not my type at all. It looks like it’s the end of a meeting, as they shake hands, and the older man makes his way out the door.

Mr. Sweet and Delicious reaches into his jacket pocket, I’m assuming to retrieve his wallet or phone. I’ve never had such a visceral response to a man’s cologne before, but I can tell the view from behind is just as enticing. I try to shake it off, but it’s too late, as he starts turning toward the bar with his wallet in his hand, and our eyes lock in the mirror. Just like that, I’m gone.

Maybe it’s the day or the alcohol, but all parts of my brain that should be telling me to look away have switched off, and the moment he takes the slow step toward me, I’ve already decided in my head that I want this guy to fuck me tonight.

Long and hard!

I know who he is, and that should be enough to put a stop to my horny libido, but instead, it just makes me want him more. It’s a challenge to seduce a man I know must be fighting the same battle I am.

I’m off limits to him, as much as he is off limits to me.

Flynn Taylor.

Second-in-charge and Chief Operating Officer to Nicholas Darby at Darby Hotels, our biggest competitor in the boutique hotel market.

They’re all powerful men that I have met before but keep at a distance. There’s a mutual respect between us, and that’s the way I like it. They are different to my father in that they see me as an equal, something my father will never do.

As he gets closer, I can see the intensity in his eyes as he scans me all over as I swivel my bar stool just slightly in his direction. Gone is my suit jacket from earlier today, and instead, I’m wearing a black silk camisole and my cream skirt that’s molded over my thighs and rear end. Pearls hang around my neck and simple pearl earrings drop from my ears. I am never without jewelry. Gold and diamonds on my fingers make me feel feminine, even while I continue to show the world my dominance in my actions.

I can feel my heartbeat increasing slightly at the way he is looking at me in the mirror. Not saying a word, just unbuttons his suit jacket and slides into the seat at the bar next to me. He could have picked any seat, but the one next to me suits me just fine.

Trying not to give anything away, I take a slow sip of my champagne, licking the last drop off my lip as he places cash on the bar in front of him, signaling the bartender back over.

“What can I get you, sir?” Celine asks him, and I can tell she is also enamored by this man. The difference is he makes her self-conscious.

For me, his strong manliness is a challenge.

Let the game begin!

“I’ll have a scotch on the rocks and another champagne for the lady,” he says, pushing his cash toward her.

Not wanting him to get the upper hand, I reply, “Make that another scotch, but neat, please. Thank you.” I turn my head to the side slightly to acknowledge his kindness and give him a nod. Then I look back ahead into the mirror. What the hell is the cologne this man is wearing? I can’t stop fixating on it. And it’s obvious that my body has some weird obsession with it.

We sit in silence for a few moments until the scotch is placed on the bar.

“Long day or are you looking for something strong?” he asks, picking up the cut-crystal glass in front of him and tilting it toward me.

Pushing my now empty champagne glass to the side, I wrap my hand, with my perfectly manicured nails, around my scotch and tap it a few times with the gold tips of my nails. I swivel my stool completely in his direction, with my legs now facing him. I might have my legs crossed like a lady, but right now, I feel anything but.

I’m on the prowl, and I have no shame in admitting it.

Leaning forward just slightly so I’m in his personal space, my mouth now close to his ear, I whisper, “Not something… but perhaps someone.” And in that one sentence I have laid my cards on the table. He knows what I want, and now he needs to decide if he wants the same thing.

I watch the side of his neck and his Adam’s apple bobbing as he slowly swallows the smooth scotch in his glass.

Oh, he’s good. Not a flinch at my remark. I can usually see the tells on a man when they think they have me where they want me.

The Billionaire Lady Heiress is about to come back to their place, and they will have their way with me.

That will never happen!

I have a room in our central London hotel that is mine. It is never rented out, and the staff know it is to be ready and clean at all times. Security is also alerted when I enter the room, and I have had a panic button installed beside the bed if needed. Or if the guy isn’t getting the hint that it’s time to leave.

Trust is something that needs to be earned with me. I have been burned too many times in my life, and I’m not a stupid woman who takes safety lightly.

“Mmmm, interesting.” That’s all he replies, his voice raspy from the way the scotch has tickled his throat.

He wants me to work for this, and I’m all about the chase.

“You smell divine.” Leaning in further, I run my nose up his strong neck. It’s not what I was planning on saying, but my mind is stuck on his strong scent. It’s almost like he’s emitting pheromones, and I can’t defend myself from them.

Swiveling his head toward me, his lips are oh so close to mine, and I can smell the scotch on his breath.

“I’m afraid you are at an unfair advantage,” he points out, while all I’m thinking about is how I just want to close the small distance left and taste him, but instead, I’m holding steady, and our eyes are locked on each other.

“Oooh, just how I like it, but please, elaborate on why.” I lick my lips, making them moist and letting him know that I’m preparing for him.

Again, he takes his time with his answer. It’s been a while since I have found a man I can go toe to toe with in flirting. It’s like a game of cat and mouse, but we both want to be the cat!

“As the gentleman, I shouldn’t take advantage of a woman who has been drinking, and I don’t know how long you have been here. You, on the other hand, have seen my first drink of the night.” Flynn is serious in his tone, and part of me swoons at his considerate thought. But the other part of me is already rising up on the inside to get ready to convince him that he has nothing to worry about.

“True. However, you know my reputation. I never do something I don’t want to do. And that includes drinking so much that I wouldn’t be aware of what I’m doing. Rest assured, you can put your gentleman act away for the night, because you won’t be needing it with me.” Sitting up straight again, I take another sip of my scotch and let it slide smoothly down my throat.

“Your reputation definitely precedes you.” His chuckle reverberates around us as he thinks about his next move.

“Tell me what you have heard, and I’ll tell you if it’s true.” I’m smiling now, and he’s back looking straight ahead into the mirror, but for the first time since he sat down, I can see his face is relaxing just the slightest. The stiffness in his jaw is not as tight, and the lines around his eyes, although looking tired, show he is not straining to keep his focus.

“Hmmm, a gentleman never tells. But since you told me to leave my gentleman act at the door…” As he places his glass on the bar, the noise of it reminds me how heavy the cut-crystal glass in my hand is. Also placing mine down, it’s easy to see he has drunk more than me in the few mouthfuls he has taken.

He rotates in his chair toward me as I watch on intently. Now face to face, he spreads his thick thighs on either side of my crossed legs, and with pure strength, grabs on to the sides of my seat and slides it toward him so I’m trapped in his personal space like the mouse he is trying to get me to be.

“Go on.” I lean back in my chair to show he still doesn’t have me where he wants me. I’m in complete control.

“You’re a woman who exerts power.” His words bring a smile to my face that he is happily admitting that this doesn’t scare him. “Successful, and you can be a ball-breaker if needed.” And now it is me who can’t help but giggle a little.

“Is that what you want, for me to break your balls, Mr. Taylor?”

“Among other things…” The humor on his face is gone, and pure want replaces it. His eyebrow rises involuntarily, and I tuck that fact away for later.

“Continue.” I rest one of my hands on his thigh, giving it the slightest squeeze.

“But my own observation is of the woman sitting before me. Stunning, a beauty that radiates, and she is a very sexual woman when all this other bullshit is stripped away.” Finally showing his intentions, he reaches his large veiny hand to the back of my calf and slowly slides it up until he is cupping the back of my knee, trapping me in his hold.

The burn I feel even through my sheer pantyhose is scorching.

“And as much as I shouldn’t, you have me wanting to strip you bare to see just how sexual.” He moves until his mouth is beside my ear, and I can’t help the shiver that runs through me from his breath on my neck.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it, Ms. Kentwall, or do I need to call you my lady?”

Oh fuck, his tongue is on my skin, and I’m struggling to breathe.

The words fall from my mouth without control. “No lady here.” My breaths are shallow, and he knows exactly what he is doing to me.

I want more.

Never have I longed more to take a step back and just let a man take control of me.

“Tell me what you want.” As he pulls back slightly, it’s like he is looking into my soul.

“You… to fuck me… hard.” I don’t hold back. It’s not in my nature.

When I want something, I take it!

“Then we are on the same page, my lady.” He sits back up straight and takes his hands off me.

“Felisha, call me Felisha.” Picking up my scotch, I take one last gulp instead of a sip, for a bit of courage, because something tells me Flynn might be the first man to come close to breaking me. “My car will take us to my room.”

“You don’t waste time, do you?” His voice is like hearing sex, with the shivers it keeps giving me.

“We aren’t nineteen. We both know what we want. I saw it in your eyes the moment you sat down.”

“Touché, and I tasted your sexual desire on my tongue.”

Damn, he’s good at this.

Understanding my instructions, he pushes back from me and stands to give me space to get off my bar stool. Taking a breath and making him wait a moment, I carefully place my feet on the ground and steady myself. Pulling my jacket from the stool beside me, I’m about to place it over my arm when his hand is on mine.

“Let me.” He takes it and places it over his arm instead. I lace the gold chain strap of my matching cream Gucci handbag over my shoulder as he takes my opposite hand and links it into the crook of his arm. Although it feels good to touch him, I don’t want to give anyone any ideas. I’m already running a huge risk with the intense flirting in the bar.

After all, we are business rivals, and we both know how dangerous it is for the media to find something to talk about.

My driver Imala never asks any questions or makes any comments, but I can see the look on her face that she tries to hide when she sees Flynn by my side as we step out from the large glass doors. My father often questions when I’m going to get a male driver, which I don’t bother even answering. She’s good at her job, and I know that if I ever needed her to defend me, she is a trained specialist, and I trust her to keep me safe.

Harper does all my hiring, and if she thought she was the right person for the job, that’s all I care about.

“The usual address, miss?” she asks from the front of the car after Flynn has opened the door and helped me to settle in.

“Thank you.” Even with the distance between us, I can still feel the fire that is simmering under the surface for both of us.

Riding in the back of my Mercedes in silence is what we both need.

I’m still rationalizing in my head if this is a smart move, to be naked with a man who will stand his ground in any boardroom to fight with me over a million-dollar deal. Or how he will watch me from his table at an awards night or conference where I am on stage speaking, and he will no longer have to imagine me naked.

Is this really what I want?

Will it give him an edge in the real world, just because I want to step off the treadmill of both our lives for an hour and just be me?

I’m still torn, but my body is aching to be touched as we take the elevator to the top floor of our hotel to my private suite.

Pinning my shoulders back as I exit the elevator, I decide that I am entitled to live a life away from the chaos. I make my own choices, and I want this guy and all his manly pheromones to lay me out on my bed and make me see stars.

Well, at least I hope he will.

What if he is all talk and his cockiness is just for show?

Is that why he’s still single at his age? But before I let my brain get away with trying to analyze the man who is two steps behind me, it hits me that he could be thinking the same about me.

I choose to be single.

And from all the gossip I hear about Flynn, he thoroughly enjoys being single.

Standing at the door to my suite, I swipe my card, and hearing the lock disengage triggers my heart to start beating harder.

Opening the door, I stop before Flynn has a chance to enter behind me. Rotating, I stand still.

“Whatever happens inside this room, we will never talk about again. No details will leave this room, and if I hear one tiny whisper that you have told another soul, I will hunt you down and make your life miserable. Agreed?” I hold my hand out to shake on it like I would any business deal to seal a contract.

Because that’s what this is, an agreement of mutual benefit. We both get what we want and then continue with our lives.

That eyebrow twitch has started again, which is very interesting. Does he find me attractive when I’m assertive? Most men cower away from me or try to come over the top of me, failing every time.

Although now, a vision of Flynn naked over top of me floods into my head, and I’m getting impatient to see the real thing.

“Agreed.” His hand, that is almost twice the size, takes mine and squeezes it as he steps forward, and my feet are stumbling backward in quick little steps. The moment both our bodies have cleared the door, his other hand grasps it and throws it closed with his pent-up energy. There is a loud bang, and before I can stand still, his fingers are gripping my waist and pivoting me toward the wall.

My back hits it but not with force.

“I left my gentleman at the door, but if you want him back, you just say the word.” His voice is a rumble, and all I can think is thank fuck for that.

“Glad you listened to the brief.” I’m trying to sound assertive, but I fear I’m failing.

He takes my bag off my shoulder and places it on the hall stand to my right. And the moment I am free of anything to inhibit me, his pelvis is pushing against me and pinning me to the wall. He shucks his jacket and carefully lays it over top of my bag. This man means business. He drops his cufflinks onto the table, and as he starts rolling the sleeves of his shirt up, he continues to grind his hips into my pussy.

Holy shit!

He’s so hard and making sure I know what he’s capable of.

“Now it’s my turn. You want to play this hot hard-ass bitch all night? Because I can take that. Or are you ready for me to fuck you long, hard, and better than you have ever been fucked before. Just as you requested.” While he’s making me almost melt, I’m thankful I have a wall behind me so I manage to stammer my reply.

“That… all of that…” And before I get finished, my hands are pinned above my head and his lips are taking mine.

He’s rough and demanding, not giving me any choice but to open my mouth for him. He pushes his tongue forward, and all I can do is let out a silent moan in his mouth as he grinds his cock against my sex.

My head is telling me I shouldn’t submit so easily, but my body is opening the door and telling him to take every single bit of me and do bad, dirty things to them.

Not just lay me down and fuck me.

I want it all tonight.

His mouth, his hands, and whatever the fuck that weapon in his pants is, I want him to fill every hole possible.

Tonight, I don’t want to be Lady Kentwall.

“Make me feel, Flynn, I want it all… Make me feel like Felisha. Let me feel the real me.”

God, why did I say that? No one gets to see the real Felisha. Rarely even me!

Yet the words leaving my lips felt like heaven.

This can’t happen. I can’t be vulnerable.

And especially not with Flynn!