The Devil's Touch (7 page)

Suddenly Lucien stood and began to pace the thick carpeting like a caged animal. Angelica followed him with her eyes. He was speaking in a soft hypnotic purr, but there was a sinister edge to his voice.

“I found out my father was propping everything up with borrowed money. So much money the debt was crushing. Lance Corporation was a house of cards, and over the next two years three bankers were regular visitors to our home. They came late at night – men in dark suits from greedy banks who could smell my father’s blood in the water, and they were circling. They offered more and more money, and they demanded more and more to secure those loans. Finally it was too much. It couldn’t last. Lance Corporation was at the mercy of these men, and they came the night before my birthday and they pulled the whole thing down, right before my father’s eyes. They destroyed Lance Corporation, and they destroyed my father. I found him dead in his study on my birthday. He’d used a shotgun.”

Lucien paused beside the table and refilled his cup.

“My father left me a note,” Lucien said, and for a moment his eyes were distant and reminiscent. “It explained what had happened – what those men had done.” He swallowed a mouthful of coffee and then resumed his pacing. His steps now were more urgent.

“For six years I worked from sunrise until after midnight to re-build Lance Corporation. I worked with a single-minded ruthless determination. I wanted to return the company to its former glory. I wanted to restore my father’s reputation – but most of all I wanted revenge.

“It took me that long to gain enough power and influence to do what I needed to do. Everyone thought I was a kid. They underestimated how hungry I was, and how much hate I had. It cost them.”

Not for a single moment had Angelica’s eyes left Lucien. She was riveted and appalled. She sensed the ominous tone in his voice.

“I made a fortune in the early days of the dotcom boom,” he said. “It was my kind of market. Stocks were exploding overnight. I bought well, made enormous profits, and got out of the market months before the bubble burst. That’s when everything changed. Now I had money – lots of it – and I had new and influential contacts,” Lucien grinned, and Angelica saw the sudden malevolent glint in his eyes.

“I went after the three men that had destroyed my father with the same ruthless, relentless determination I had used to rebuild the company,” he said. Then he suddenly stopped pacing and went across to the windows. The morning sun streamed light into the room. Lucien stared at the view and thrust his balled fists deep into his pockets. When he turned back, he was a black silhouette against a dazzlingly bright backdrop.

“The first banker was a man in his fifties. He worked for a European consortium of financiers. Through my new contacts, I arranged for him to be caught in extremely compromising circumstances with two ladies of questionable character. When I had the photos I invited him to my father’s study and I sat him in my father’s chair. And then I showed him the photos. The man’s face went deathly white. He had a wife and four children. He pleaded with me. I sent the photos to the newspapers, and to his bosses, and to every broking firm on Wall Street. And then to his wife. It destroyed him. His marriage fell apart. He lost his job – and I smiled for a week.

“The second man was highly placed in a bank here in the States. He is currently serving twelve years in prison for insider trading. I can’t say more than that,” Lucien gestured with his hands, “but you can fill in the blanks, I’m sure.”

Angelica nodded. “And the third man…?”

Lucien blinked, then grunted. “He was in his seventies by the time I got to him. He had a nasty pinched face, a vulture’s nose and the mournful expression of an undertaker,” Lucien said. “He’d gotten fat for forty years off the misfortune of men like my father – until I discovered he too had a weakness. Like the first man, I found he had sex kinks… but his were more…. exotic. When I showed him the photos he looked me in the eye and began to cry. I told him I wanted him to retire and resign immediately. He did. I handed over my copies of the photos. But the next evening he drove his car off a bridge. When the police recovered the body, and the car’s contents, they discovered he had written across one of the photos.”

“What? What did he write?”

“The Devil Made Me Do It.”

Angelica gasped suddenly. She had not realized she had been holding her breath. “And that’s why people call you Lucifer,” she whispered.

Lucien said nothing. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was as though he were shrugging off a heavy black cloak. When he opened his eyes again all of the sinister darkness had gone, like a thunderstorm blown beyond the horizon.

Lucien crossed to the table, took his suit coat from the backrest of the chair and put it on. He glanced at his watch. “I have a meeting in an hour,” he said.

“On a Saturday?”

He grinned. “Money doesn’t come to you, Angelica. You’ve got to go out and fight for it.” He gulped down another mouthful of coffee.

Angelica stood up quickly. “I’ll just get my things. I’ll be out of here in fifteen minutes.”

“There’s no rush,” Lucien said, and Angelica sensed the emphasis in his words. “In fact, I want you to consider staying here with me for a week or so.”

Angelica’s eyes fluttered in confusion. “You want me to stay here… with you?” There was an unnatural squeak in her voice.

“Why not?” Lucien asked. “I have plenty of bedrooms – and you have nowhere to live. You certainly can’t spend the rest of your life on your friend’s couch. A week here will give you time to sort your life out and maybe start looking for a new job.”

A flare of pink touched at her cheeks. She was blushing at the thought of spending time with this man.

“Well… I’m not sure…” Her voice was soft and strangely unsteady. Lucien watched her, sensing she was weakening, her resistance dissolving. She stood quite still, aware he was watching her closely, knowing that this was a turning point for her. She needed to make a decision. She sank back down onto her chair and stared towards the penthouse door, trying to sort out her thoughts.

She knew he was right. She couldn’t stay at Lea’s place indefinitely – and certainly not sleeping on her couch. And she did need time to consider her future. She had no job – what was she going to do for an income?

“Would
you
like me to stay here?” she asked.

Lucien’s face was impassive. “Angelica, I don’t care, and I don’t play that game with any woman. I will not chase you. I will not try to convince you. You come to me. I won’t come after you.”

She sat back.

That was a slap in the face!

Well, she shrugged to herself, at least she knew exactly where she stood with this man. There could be no question of deception. She could walk away. He wouldn’t stop her.

“I’ll need to think about it,” Angelica tried to salvage some of her pride. “But if I do, what’s the catch?”

“No catch,” Lucien said. “But there are conditions. If you stay here, you will learn the art of sexual submission.”

Angelica recoiled. “You want me to earn my food and board by submitting to you?”

Lucien shook his head slowly, and there was a brief flicker of that winning smile she was becoming accustomed to. “No. I want you to earn the privilege of the Devil’s Touch as a reward for submitting to me.”

They stared at each other for a long moment of silence, like an undeclared battle of wills. Angelica looked away first.

Lucien glanced at his watch again. “I have to go,” he said. He jotted a phone number on a white embossed business card and handed it to Angelica. “That’s my chauffeur’s number. I’ll talk to him on my way to this meeting. If you decide to stay, phone Edward and he will pick you up and bring you here tonight. I should be finished my business by 6pm. If you’re here, we’ll go to dinner, and if you’re not?” he smiled suddenly. “Well, have a nice life, Angel.”

* * *

Angelica crippled her credit card buying a t-shirt and a pair of denim jeans from the hotel lobby boutique, paying double the retail price, then caught a cab to 14
Street.

She combed her fingers through her hair, watching the faces of the crowds on the sidewalk as the cab dodged and weaved between traffic and potholes. Down here at ground level, the world seemed very different to the rarified air of Lucien Lance’s world.

Angelica pushed a crumpled bill through the slot in the cab’s armored Perspex screen and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

‘Donatello’s’ was a low-key Italian restaurant hidden under a candy-striped awning on the sunny side of the street. Angelica pushed open the door and let her eyes adjust to the sudden gloom. There was a long serving counter on one side of the room and a series of booths on the other. Each of the booths was dark timbered and the tables were covered with bright checkered cloths. In the center of each table was a candle in an old wine bottle, the glass sides streaked with lumpen trails of dripped wax.

Lea Foglesong stood up from a booth near the back of the restaurant and waved to her.

“Wow!” Lea hugged Angelica then held her at arm’s length for a moment, carefully studying her face. “You look like you got laid last night!”

Lea was a twenty-six year old beauty; olive skin and long dark hair framing a friendly face and a flashing white smile. She was Angelica’s best friend – a free-spirited Aquarian who spoke her mind, and had a wicked sense of humor. A product of her origins, Lea’s heritage was a fascinating mix of Native American earthiness and Sicilian passion.

“Pizza?” Angelica changed the subject quickly.

Lea grinned. “Of course. It’s better than eating my cooking.”

They ordered quickly and Lea chose an eight-dollar bottle of red wine. The women toasted each other and then Lea leaned forward, her face alight with anticipation. “Spill,” she demanded. “And tell me everything. Leave nothing out.”

Angelica twisted the stem of her wine glass between her fingers and looked down at the table. She knew she could tell Lea anything and trust her to take the secret to the grave – but she didn’t know where or how to start. She took a sip of her wine and made a face. Then, finally, she just started talking, and did not stop again until their pizza arrived to the table twenty minutes later.

Lea sat back into the gloom at the back of the booth, her eyes wide and shocked. She had never expected Angelica to carry through with her plan! She never thought she would actually pick up a man for sex. And what a man.

Lucien Lance!

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Lea launched a barrage of questions.

“So what happened? What is his penthouse like? What is he like in bed? Does he have a brother for me?”

Angelica giggled and shared the details of her lovemaking with Lucien in a series of scandalous whispers and Lea’s shocked exclamations. Then, when the pizza was finished and the wine bottle half-empty, Angelica finally told Lea about the Devil’s Touch.

“It was…” Angelica’s eyes went wide and she looked to the ceiling in search of the right words, “… the most devastating, euphoric feeling of pure ecstasy I have ever experienced.”

“Really? Truly?”

“I fainted,” Angelica confessed. “When I… you know… the intensity was so complete, I actually passed out! As I came to, he was kneeling over me holding a glass of water. He said all women react the same way.”

“My God,” Lea gasped. She squirmed on her seat and her eyes were wide with amazement and envy. “What was it?” she grabbed Angelica’s hand and squeezed hard. “How does he do it?”

Angelica lowered her head again and closed her eyes. She tried to cast her mind back to Lucien’s bedroom and recall the feelings and sensations before she had been overwhelmed.

“Fingers,” she said, “his fingers were everywhere. God, he has the most amazing touch – and the way he caressed and teased me – and then his mouth, his tongue…”

“Alright!” Lea suddenly clamped her hands over her ears and sat back in her seat. “I can’t stand it. You’re driving me insane with jealousy.”

They laughed through two more glasses of wine and a platter of crusty herb bread before Angelica’s face suddenly became serious.

“He asked me if I wanted to stay with him, Lea. Lucien asked me if I wanted to spend a week living in his penthouse – at least until I get my life sorted out.”

“You’ve hit the jackpot!” Lea clapped her hands. But then she saw Angelica’s troubled expression and she frowned. “You said yes – didn’t you?”

“Not yet. I said I would think about it.”

“Why?” Lea practically leaped across the table. “What do you need to think about?”

Angelica sighed. “More than you could imagine,” she said, her tone ominous. “You see, Lucien isn’t interested in the kind of sex you might think. He’s a dom, Lea. A Master. And he wants me to submit and obey him as his sex slave.”

Lea shook her head, and it was a tragic, sorrowful gesture as she looked at Angelica. “You sad, silly little girl,” she whispered. “If the Devil’s thingy –”

“- Touch. He called it the Devil’s Touch.”

Lea went on without pause, “… is everything you said it is – and if you can have it any time you want – I would crawl across a mile of broken glass! Every woman in the world would. Submission? So what? I’d get down on my knees and beg for it.”

Angelica smiled but it didn’t quite reach to her eyes. She was still doubtful. “I don’t know anything about submission,” she confessed. “I don’t know what happens, or what he would expect from me.”

For a romantic like Lea Foglesong, Angelica’s adventure was like something torn from the pages of the steamy erotic romances she read. This was her chance to be a part of a real-life romance – she wasn’t going to allow Angelica’s reluctance to stand in the way.

“Come back to my apartment,” she said. “I’ve got some stories about Masters and their submissives on my kindle you can read. They’re written by a woman named Vivien Sparx. After you’ve read
‘Her Master’s Kiss’
you’ll know what to expect. Then you can make up your mind.”

* * *

It turned cold in the afternoon. A mean little wind hunted through the city’s streets and the sky began to fill with cloud.