Romance: The Art Of Love: A Billionaire Romance (3 page)

         
Annette
was still in bed when her phone rang. She rolled over, blurry eyed, and grabbed
it from her nightstand.

         
“’
ello
?”

         
“Good
morning, Annette. This is Madison. I’m calling to let you know to pack your
overnight bag.” She sighed, only slightly theatrically. “Clifford’s heard about
a painting he absolutely has to see.”

         
“All
right,” Annette said, sitting up and blinking. “Where are we going?”

         
“Not
too far,” Madison replied. “Just Montreal.” She paused for a long moment, and
Annette thought for a second she’d lost the connection. “Apparently it’s quite
cold up there. The weather report says it’s only thirty degrees.”

         
Annette
smiled. Madison didn’t, despite all appearances, know everything. “They’re on
Celsius up there. Thirty degrees is actually quite warm.”

         
“Well,
that does make things better,” Madison said. “But you’ll want to hurry. We’ve
got a gate time of 07:30.”

         
Annette
peered at her clock. “Oh. Wow. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She had less
than an hour to make it to the Cobble Hill office.
 
“Hopefully the trains are on time.”

         
Madison
chuckled.
 
“Don’t worry about that.
Clifford will be picking you up.”

         
Annette’s
apartment was normally spotless, but nothing had been normal in her life since
she’d started working for Clifford. Late nights and busy weekends meant she’d
let her housekeeping go. There was no way she was willing to let anyone see her
place.

         
“I’ll
meet him out front,” she said. “We’ll save time that way.”

         
“Excellent,”
Madison said. “That means you’ve got half an hour.”

         
Annette
sprang out of bed. “Shit!” she said. A glance in the mirror revealed that she
was a mess – her curly brown hair was springing out in every direction,
including straight up. She grabbed a thick elastic band and pulled the mass of
it back into a loose ponytail.

         
“Okay,
clothes.” The experience at the Georgian restaurant had prepared Annette for
what life with Clifford might be like. She pulled two simple dresses out of her
closet; they’d do well in a gallery or restaurant. She looked at a sequin
covered shift. If Clifford insisted on bringing her to a nightclub…

         
“No.”
She told herself firmly. “This is a business trip. I need to dress like a
professional.” Annette threw a few undergarments into her bag, and slipped into
a cobalt blue pantsuit she knew travelled well.

         
Then
her phone rang. It was a message from Clifford. “Am here” it read.

         
A
glance at the clock told her he was ten minutes earlier than Madison had
indicated. She rushed into the bathroom and hurriedly applied minimal makeup,
sweeping everything on her countertop into a travel bag.

         
Then
she shoved on a pair of shoes, grabbed her bag, tablet and phone and headed
downstairs.

         
“Good
morning!” Clifford greeted her. He was standing outside of his car, waiting on
the sidewalk. “I see you’re feeling rushed.”

         
“Rushed?
No, I’m not rushed,” Annette said. She wanted Clifford to see her as having
everything totally under control, able to respond to the last minute news she
was going on an international trip with absolute aplomb. “It’s all good.”

         
“Ah,
I see,” Clifford said. His smile was perilously close to being a full-fledged
grin. “So the decision to go with one blue shoe and one black one was
deliberate?”

         
Annette
looked down at her feet. “Shit!” she said, upon discovering her shoes, while
quite similar in style, didn’t actually match each other. “Hold on, I’ll just
run back up…”

         
“No
time,” Clifford said, ushering her into the car.
 
“What size shoes do you wear?”

         
“Six
and a half,” she replied.

         
Clifford
picked up his phone, after giving his driver direction to go to the airport.
“Madison, have someone meet us at St. Hubert with a couple of pairs of women’s
shoes. Size six and a half, please.”

         
He
paused. “She does have shoes on. They’re fine shoes. I just don’t care for
them.”

         
Madison
apparently had plenty to say. Clifford listened for a long moment and then
turned to Annette. “She wants to be sure it’s okay with you that I’m buying you
shoes.”

         
Annette
laughed. “I’m not going to tell you no.”

         
Clifford
raised an eyebrow.

         
“Well,
about this, anyway.”

         
When
they arrived at the Montreal airport, there was a package waiting for Annette.
Inside were three pairs of shoes and a note from Madison.

         
“Not
sure what you packed, so enclosed dress in case you needed something to match.
Hope size is right – M.”

         
The
dress in question was an exceptionally beautiful floral print, with red roses
that perfectly matched the red Italian leather pumps Madison had sent along.
The entire outfit easily ran four figures; the silk was thin enough that
Annette could almost see her fingers through it.

         
“A
dress that nice deserves an evening to match,” Clifford declared. They’d
settled into the hotel; the luxury suite Madison booked had adjoining rooms for
each of them, with a meeting room attached. “Let’s go enjoy ourselves.”

         
“Really?”
 
Annette held the dress up in front of
herself. “I can’t wait to see how this looks on.”

         
“Me
too,” Clifford said.

         
When
Annette emerged from her room, dressed with the new red shoes on, Clifford
whistled. “I was thinking about taking you out on the town, but now I just want
to make love to you right this minute,” he said.

         
“You
know what?” Annette said, surprising them both. “I think that would be all
right.” She stepped forward and kissed Clifford. “In this beautiful dress, in
this beautiful room…I think that would be all right.”

         
Clifford
kissed her back. “All right.” His fingers slid into her curly hair, pulling her
closer. “I’m not going to tell you no.”

         
She
smiled to hear her words from earlier repeated to her. “Well, about this,
anyway.”

         
There
were massive leather armchairs in the room; Clifford sank back in one, pulling
Annette on top of him. They spent a long moment kissing before he slid his
hands up under her skirt.

         
“You
have the most amazing legs,” he said. “Sometimes I spend hours just thinking
about your legs. How they’re going to feel wrapped around me.”

         
Annette
blushed. “Now you don’t have to imagine.”

         
“No,”
Clifford growled. “I don’t.” He started to stand up. “Hold on,” he said,
lifting Annette body with him as he rose. It took only a few paces to cross the
room to the soft bed.

         
Annette
smiled up at him. “Be gentle, Clifford.”

         
He
was already about to slide into her. “I’ll be as gentle as I can. But I have
wanted you so much, for so long.” It took half a stroke to fill her completely;
a little bit more to push her out of her mind with pleasure. “I don’t know how
gentle I can be.”

         
Annette
raised her legs and wrapped them around Clifford’s waist. “Give it to me,” she
said. “Give it to me now.”

         
Clifford
started moving faster and faster. All pretense of gentleness was abandoned as
he neared climax; Annette’s nails were digging into his back. “Yes!” he
shouted.

         
“Yes!”
Annette echoed. It all felt wonderful, but at that same moment, a thought she
couldn’t ignore rushed into her brain:
 
has she just wrecked her career?

         
Annette
looked out of the hotel’s window. Montreal was spread out before her, with old
brick buildings nestled side by side with modern glass skyscrapers. It was a
beautiful scene, but she couldn’t see it clearly. Tears were clouding her
vision.

         
“Man.
I am so stupid. So incredibly stupid.” She jammed her fist into her mouth,
biting on her finger hard. “What was I thinking?” Making love to Clifford had
been wonderful, but now, in the harsh morning light, she knew it was absolutely
unacceptable behavior.

         
“What’s
wrong?” Clifford was still sitting in the bed, with the blue sheets tangled
around his waist.

         
“You
know what’s wrong,” Annette replied. “This is wrong. I knew it, you knew it,
and we went ahead and did it anyway.” She sank into the chair positioned next
to the window. It was unbelievably comfortable. “I’m going to have to resign my
position.”

         
“No,
you’re not,” Clifford said. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

         
“It’s
ethics 101,” Annette snapped. “Don’t get involved with your clients.” She
cocked her head and smiled, softening her words in response to Clifford’s
wounded expression. “Even if they’re wonderful lovers.”

         
Clifford
smiled. “You’re in luck. Technically, I’m not your client. Moshe is.”

         
Annette
winced. “Well, I’m definitely not in danger of going to bed with him.”

         
“I
love your idealism,” Clifford said. “It gives you such fire. It makes you who
you are. But do you really think the art world’s full of chaste people who deny
their feelings for a set of abstract ethics?” He shook his head. “Art requires
passion. And passionate people…they live their lives to the fullest. They
pursue what they want. And when the opportunity arises, they make love. Just
like we did.” Clifford threw the bedclothes to the side and patted the
mattress. “Come here.”

         
Annette
stood up and padded across the deep carpet, feeling the way the silky fibers
caressed her feet. The sheets were smooth and cold.

         
“Do
you really think you’ve done anything wrong?” Clifford asked. He kissed
Annette’s forehead. “In the greater scale of things, does the fact we have this
kind of relationship really impact your ability your ability to advise me?”

         
Annette
shook her head. “No.”

         
“You
still know more about the Surrealists than anyone I know,” Clifford said. “And
I know a lot of people.”

         
Annette
smiled. “It’s nice of you to say that.”

         
“It’s
not nice, it’s accurate.” Clifford cocked his head. “I don’t really spend a lot
of energy worrying about whether or not I’m nice. I don’t know if you’ve
noticed that at all…”

         
“Once
or twice,” Annette joked.

         
“But
what I do worry about is whether or not I’m accurate. I want people to be able
to count on my word. So if I say something, I’m confident that what I say is
correct. You know your stuff, Annette. The commentary you’ve made on my
collection has been spot on and insightful. I trust that you’re going to bring
that amazing mind of yours to our meeting with Rene.”

         
“Well,
I can hardly leave it here.” Clifford was starting to make her feel better.

         
“Exactly.”
Clifford kissed her again. “Stop feeling bad when you don’t need to.”

         
“What
about Madison?” Annette asked.

         
“What
about Madison?”

         
“What’s
the deal with you and her?” Annette didn’t want to ask that question, but felt
she had to. “Because if you guys are a thing; we can’t be a thing. Even though
we’ve already been a thing. Because I am sure she is not going to appreciate
this situation.”

         
Clifford
sighed. “Madison and I have been working together for over a decade. I have a
great deal of respect for her, and I imagine she’s got at least a little bit
for me. But as a couple? A romantic couple? You don’t have to worry about
that.”

         
“You’re
sure about that?” Annette said. “Because she seems to think the sun rises and
sets on your shoulders.”

         
“You
mean it doesn’t?” Clifford joked.

         
“I
didn’t say that,” Annette replied. Clifford had his hand on her thigh now; the
pressure of his fingers was doing interesting things to her psyche.

         
“Madison’s
in a relationship,” Clifford said. “She’s very private about it, and I don’t
pry. But don’t worry about her love life. She’s got that handled without me
being involved at all.” He laughed. “Besides, she’s twelve years older than me,
and meaner than a box of snakes.”

         
Annette
let out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

         
“Feel
better?”

         
“If
you keep doing that,” Annette replied, leaning back against the soft mountain
of pillows, “I’m going to feel a lot better.”

         
“Your
wish is my command!” Clifford replied.