Chapter One
Visiting a sex club wasn’t what I was expecting, but it was certainly what I needed. Accepting the invitation from a rather vile client of mine presented, unknowingly at the time, a huge and unexpected opportunity.
I was in my office and had just taken a call from Lord Patrick Stanton, a ‘name’ at Lloyds and one of only a handful of clients I had managed to switch over to my own company that I started in preparation for my departure. It was clear that Lloyds was about to fall from a great height, and I expected to get the boot. Obviously, because of my title, being a Lord of the Realm myself and coming from a renowned family, I was able to attract some nice clients without any trouble. I hadn’t liked Stanton when he’d been thrust onto me a few years previously, and I disliked him more as time passed. He was a cretin of gargantuan proportions; sleazy, and part of a very undesirable ring of ‘all male club’ types that like to abuse women.
However, the invitation to the sex club would potentially give me that snippet of evidence I needed to get rid of him as a client without retribution. No one wanted to be associated, publically, with prostitutes. Since it was mostly rumour that he was violent with them, reporting him to the police was a futile exercise; the women didn’t come forward. It also appeared that some members of the police force were also part of his little club, it was a done deal that he would be protected.
“Alex, did you hear me?”
I turned from the floor to ceiling glass windows in my plush corner office. “Sorry, Daisy, I was miles away. What did you say?” I smiled at the elderly lady that saved my bacon every day of the week. She was about the best personal assistant one could wish for.
“You have a meeting in a half hour, I wanted to remind you because I’m sure you need to get moving,” she said, returning my smile.
“I do and thank you.”
I pushed myself away from the desk and rose. It was time to get my arse into gear and not spend so much effort on Stanton. I wanted to pitch to a new client, one I’d been after for a few years. Mackenzie Miller was a venture capitalist with cash to invest. He was also the most intriguing person I’d had the pleasure to meet. Well, when I saymeet, it had been at a dinner, and briefly. He’d had a woman on his arm that I could have instantly fallen in love with. So much was my attraction to her that I had to keep my distance in case I physically salivated and offended them both. I never got her name, but her blonde hair and elegance, coupled with her Southern American accent, just blew me away.
Maybe I’d ask after her, simply so I could discover her name.
* * *
I’d spent a lot of time researching Mr. Miller over the years. He was American with businesses both in the UK and stateside. Although he seemed to spend the majority of his time flying back and forth, I’d heard he had recently purchased a house in London. His UK headquarters were in Canary Wharf and from what I was able to ascertain, he owned a lot of real estate there. The most interesting thing that came from my research was most of his CEOs, or at least significant employees—although I hated that term—were women. It went against the ‘old boy network,’ of course, and he was ridiculed in the gentlemen’s clubs for it.
“Pussy whipped, I bet,” I remember Stanton saying, and then confessing to have never met Miller.
I wasn’t sure that was the case. He was an extremely confident man and although he was often pictured with the blonde, he seemed to have a stable of beauties to accompany him when she couldn’t.
* * *
I hailed a taxi and slid into the back seat. I flicked through the file I’d retrieved from my briefcase, stopping at a photograph of Miller. Although he was smiling in the apparent corporate shot, he had steely eyes and his fixed expression and strong jaw gave the impression he didn’t suffer fools gladly. I’d been surprised to be granted the meeting after making many attempts over the past year.
I hadn’t noticed the taxi was out of the city until we stopped at a checkpoint. I watched as security officers peered through the side window and ran their mirror under the car, before waving us through.
“Security still tight, then?” I asked the driver, who stared back through his rear-view mirror.
“Yeah, not a bad thing. Don’t want my cab blown up, I’ll lose my livelihood,” he replied, smiling at me.
I smiled in return. There was nothing like a good conversation with a London taxi driver. They were a law unto themselves and full of knowledge and opinion. An institution, he had reminded me when we’d spoken.
We pulled up alongside the entrance to one of the many towering, vast glass and steel office buildings. A metal sign stood beside the revolving door listing all the businesses inside. I knew that Miller either owned them outright, or had interests in each one. That day, I was heading to the top floor and his personal offices.
After signing in and receiving a visitor’s badge, having my briefcase X-rayed and walking through a metal detector, I was shown to the lifts. A security guard accompanied me but stepped back to allow me to exit the lift alone. However, I wasn’t quite alone. As the doors slid open, I was face to face with the blonde that, yet again, took my breath away.
“I…erm…I have a meeting,” I stammered through my sentence as I stepped out of the lift. She gently chuckled and I felt as though she’d set my insides on fire. “I’m sorry,” I said, straightening myself and pushing my shoulders back. “I’m Alex Duchoveny, and I have a meeting with Mackenzie Miller.”
She held out her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Lord Duchoveny. My name is Gabriella Collingsworth.” She didn’t offer her position within the organisation, but I had no doubt she wasn’t his secretary or personal assistant. I frowned in confusion, I hadn’t mentioned my title and wondered how she knew it.
She had a firm handshake and when she turned to lead the way, as much as I tried, I couldn't stop my eyes from travelling down her back and over the tight arse covered in a cream pencil skirt and legs encased in cream stockings—not that I knew for sure they were stockings but I could dream, I thought—ending in impossibly high heels. I wanted to clear my throat or take a moment to adjust my hardening cock. Her perfume left a trail and I was like a bear with a honey scent. I could have followed her with my eyes closed.
By the time I looked up, Mackenzie Miller was leaning against the frame of his glass office door. He raised his eyebrows and I felt my cheeks flush at being caught. He stepped to one side. I got the distinct impression that, although she was in front of me, she knew I’d check her out. She knew the effect she had on men, for sure. I chuckled quietly.
“Lord Duchoveny,” Mackenzie said, holding out his hand. Another one that knew my title.
I nodded. “Alex, please. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Mackenzie waved his arm allowing me to walk ahead of him. Gabriella had already taken one of the seats and I was shown to the other.
Mackenzie strode behind his desk to sit. “Let me introduce you to my right-hand woman, Gabriella Collingsworth. She runs UK operations alongside me, and alone when I’m not here.”
