Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender (44 page)

Chapter Seven

They dressed for Sunday lunch out in Mayfair.

Lucas wore a black suit with an open necked white shirt and he looked so good. Naomi had the wild urge to drop to the floor and crawl to him on her hands and knees. It came out of nowhere, but the very idea of it made her hot.

I'm a sexual submissive
, she admitted to herself, and it felt good.

His sexual submissive
.

Her buttocks were tender – as were other parts of her anatomy – and Naomi liked that too. It was a sweet reminder of all they had shared.

"You look amazing," he commented as he shrugged his jacket on. "Multiple orgasms become you."

"Thank you," Naomi replied. "I thought you meant my outfit." She swept her hand over her emerald and amethyst crystals inspired long-sleeved top. The reference to multiple orgasms amused her, but she'd been hoping for a comment about the fitted top she'd designed. Her friends had voted it her most eye-catching item.

He lifted his car keys from the polished chrome dish where he stored them. "I noticed the outfit, but I confess it's the woman wearing it who has the lion's share of my attention." He prowled closer. "Ready to go?"

She nodded and joined him.

While she was sitting in the luxurious passenger seat of his silver Aston Martin she stared out the window and thought about sexual submission, and how good it felt. She was also trying not to look at Lucas constantly. They would have to say goodbye soon, and that made her want to devour him with her eyes. He'd finally agreed to let her go and stay with Sam for the last night of her London visit, but insisted they have the afternoon out together first. Beyond that, he'd made no reference to staying in touch afterward – or indeed whether Georgio Melandros would look at her application again on his return to the office.

The whole thing felt bizarrely as if she was floating in a dreamlike state, with no connection to the past or the future, or any of the things she knew. However, the place she was in at the moment – by his side – also felt incredibly real. She marvelled at the fact she'd only known Lucas for two days.
That's because I discovered my true nature, with him. It was because of him though. In him I found me. I could never be like this with another man, could I?

As far as she was concerned her sexual compass was locked to his, and he'd guided her, navigated each and every exploration, each delicious discovery. He referred to it as their symbiosis, the deep connection that made it feel as if they'd known each other much longer. To Naomi it was as if they were becoming intertwined in body and soul. It was way too soon for these feelings, she knew that, but the intensity of their time together had made it happen.With a deep sigh, she gave in and looked back at him.
You've spoiled me for other men, Lucas.

He smiled when she caught his eye, and then reached over and covered her hand with his for a moment, squeezing it. It was a tender gesture, one of affection. It was the sort of thing she'd seen her mum and dad exchange years ago, before her mother passed on.
Am I imagining this?

She wondered where exactly he was taking her. They'd passed the grounds of Buckingham Palace and were currently driving through Mayfair. Moments later he pulled into a valet parking garage. When they got out he handed the keys over and took her hand in his. It felt amazing to be with this gorgeous man, hand in hand as they walked down a London street on a sunny Sunday morning.

Their destination was a nearby restaurant called The Regent's Kitchen. It was a swish place, attached to a large hotel. Naomi noticed there was a garden terrace and wondered if they would sit outside.

Lucas led her into the reception area and encouraged her to take a seat.

He glanced at his watch. "We're a little early for the booking. I'll order us a drink."

Naomi could see through the open doors into the dining area. It was busy but it wasn't completely full. It looked as if they could have gone straight in.

A moment later he waved across the reception. At first Naomi thought he was signaling to a waiter. Then she saw a guy in a khaki jacket over jeans and T-shirt headed their way, a folder in his hand lifted in greeting.

"Excuse me a moment," Lucas said. "It's someone I know."

Lucas met the man before he reached them and directed the guy away and toward the reception area. Naomi tried to distract herself by checking her phone, but she was intrigued. Was it one of his clients? His own client list was never far from his mind that was obvious. He'd taken several calls during their time together and now it looked as if he was doing paperwork. The two men leaned up against the reception desk, spoke briefly while they looked over papers together, then shook hands. Once the guy was gone, Lucas spent another couple of minutes looking at the papers then he caught the attention of a waiter.

"I've ordered champagne," Lucas announced as he returned.

He sat down on the edge of the chair opposite hers. "I've got to go make a phone call before we eat, but I've got something for you and I'd like you to check it out while I'm gone." He set the folder he'd collected from the other man down on the table in front of her and stood up, reaching into his inside pocket for his phone as he did so. "I shouldn't be more than fifteen minutes."

He smiled, bent down to kiss her on the cheek, and then headed off quickly in the direction of the outside terrace.

Naomi watched him walk away and then stared down at the document he'd placed on the glass coffee table in front of her. It was a printed sheath of papers inside a parchment colored folder, with a hand written note paper clipped to the front. For a moment all she could think was that she was looking at his handwriting. Lucas had written a note to her.

His writing was bold and strong, just as she would have expected, but the black ink surprised her. It was always her choice too, to write with a fountain pen.

Naomi, I hope this agreement is acceptable to you. It comes with a caveat, that we will continue our relationship. I want you and I'm prepared to negotiate.

Lucas.

With trembling fingers she lifted the note and saw the title of the document printed on the card bound papers beneath.

Agreement between the Eaglestone Agency and Naomi Kildare for National and International promotion and distribution of the Highlands Inspired range of fashion and accessories.

Naomi swallowed down a lump in her throat, questions and objections piling in on her. It was everything she'd wished for just forty-eight hours ago.

It was wildly tempting, but it didn't feel right. In fact it felt very, very wrong.

She re-read the note on top.

He was prepared to negotiate a relationship? What the hell…?

That was outrageous!

It was a business deal to him, all of it, that was why it didn't feel right.

Conflicting emotions roared in on her. Continuing a relationship with a man like Lucas was all she could think about earlier, as they prepared to say goodbye to each other.
Not like this
.

Lucas was a powerful man and this is the way he worked, hard and fast, getting what he wanted by pushing the deal and negotiating all the while. It wasn't in Naomi's nature to allow herself to be traded, especially when she'd come to the Eaglestone Agency wanting her designs to shine. He'd scarcely considered her samples. What recognition was there in that?

Lucas wasn't a buyer, not in the sense she needed him to be, someone who truly believed in her designs and was willing to work with her. And yet he was
the
buyer, because he was offering her a contract based on his desire to have her in his bed, submitting to him.

You should have known,
the little voice in her head said.

The clatter of the waiter setting up an ice bucket by her side jangled her nerves. A second waiter was busy setting up glasses on the table with a flourish.

Naomi stared at them. The sound of the cork popping made her start.

The champagne Lucas had ordered was for this, this contract. It felt surreal, the whole set up. He assumed she would sign on the line and they would toast the arrangement – whatever the hell the arrangement was – before she left to meet Sam.

The waiters left her there, sitting with an expensive bottle in a fancy ice bucket and two flutes, feeling like she was in the midst of some weird dream that was fast turning into a nightmare. But that was the problem – it had been a dream, being with Lucas, and dreams didn't last. She'd gone along with the wild adventure and even though she'd had doubts about it, never for a moment had she considered this might be the outcome.

Then a fresh revelation hit her. Did he actually think she'd slept with him to get the contract, that this was a pay off for services rendered?

The thought made her stomach turn.

In the short time they'd been together she'd formed a deep attachment to the man, she liked him. A lot. A hell of a lot. She'd believed the weekend had been driven by mutual chemistry. It made her physically ill to think he might believe she was doing it for a contract – the kinky games, her submission, all of it.

Outrage swamped her. She knew for a fact she wouldn't be able to offer a cohesive, polite or acceptable response when he returned. He would expect her to be pleased by this, the contract would be signed and some other agreement – almost as officious – set in place for an ongoing sexual relationship between them.

Until he found a new plaything, of course
, the voice in her head reminded her.

She felt dizzy and sick, and even though she recognized she might regret this for years to come, her sense of pride was forcing her to take action. She reached into her bag, pulled out her fountain pen and quickly wrote across his note.

NO DEAL. This was not the kind of contract I came to London to negotiate.

With shaking hands she pushed the cap back on her pen, threw it in her bag, and stood up. Lucas was nowhere to be seen. She wasn't exactly sure how long he'd been gone, but she was pretty sure she still had a few minutes to make her get away.

Walking as fast as she could without breaking into a run, she made her way across the tiled reception area to the exit. In the street, she hailed a taxi. "King's Cross station please, as fast as you can."

Home. That's all she could think of – everything she knew and understood. There she could rethink and work out where she had gone wrong. Her rail ticket was an open return. She could be on a train within the hour.

In the back of the cab she texted Sam to tell her she'd had to go home and wouldn't be meeting her after all. Then she switched off her phone. She'd arrange for Sam to pickup her portfolio case and her other belongings during the week. She couldn't face explain it to her friend right then. Instead she sank back into the seat and stared out of the window with unseeing eyes, the spectacle of London no longer drawing her attention the way it usually did.

She was disappointed in herself. She'd been distracted by a sexual relationship that was inevitably brief, and no matter how physically and emotionally rewarding, it wasn't what she'd come to London for. The direction of her whole career, her business and her future, hinged on the meeting on Friday, and circumstances had derailed her professionalism.

Frustration, disappointment, and regret filled her

The taxi crawled through traffic and she grew increasingly edgy, wanting to escape. By the time the taxi got to King's Cross station, she began to wonder how he'd react. Would he be angry she'd walked out on him? Would he shrug it off, dismiss it, and move on quickly, focusing on the next task on his list? Probably.  He was the master of multi-tasking.

King's Cross Station was heaving with Sunday afternoon passengers awaiting trains. She glanced at her watch as she raced through the packed station concourse, craning her neck to see the information screens. There was a train departing for Edinburgh in fifteen minutes. She'd got lucky. She didn't have a seat reservation but she would take what she could get.

When the train finally pulled out of the station she breathed a sigh of relief.

She barely noticed the chatter of eager students and homeward bound families in the packed carriage as she tried to fathom what had gone on. Around it went in her head and in her heart, torturing her. The contract should have meant everything to her, and it meant nothing. He offered it in exchange for sex, and he thought she was in agreement. It devalued her work and it devalued her as a person. She thought Lucas wanted her as a woman, not as something he could hire like a garment, off-the-shelf for a price.

There was only one thing she knew for sure, she would never meet someone like Lucas again, and that broke her apart. But her pride simply wouldn't allow her to trade her business just to have more of him.

* * *

Lucas hadn't wanted to spoil his good mood by speaking to his ex-wife, but he needed to let her know he wasn't happy she'd made a big decision about Toby without him. He had to do so fast, before she took it for granted and cut him out of the loop again. There was bound to be a drama over the phone, but he figured it would give Naomi the time she needed to read the contract Jack had delivered.