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Pawn of the Billionaire(24)

By:Kristin Frasier & Abigail Moore


She didn’t hear me. I could hear the sound of the shower. So I laid the clothes on her bed and went back to my room, smiling. She’d know I’d been in when she found them.

In my bathroom, I set the shower remote to come up to temperature and dropped my robe. While relaxing in the clouds of steam, I thought about her body, about the sort of clothes she should wear, and I was glad Anne Russell would be arriving tomorrow. She was a ladies’ maid of the old school, and I’d borrowed her from the Masons.

I made a face at myself in the mirror as I trimmed my shave. I was glad now that Penny Mason had answered the phone when I rang to find out about the roofing work they’d had done. That had given me the confidence to ring her again this morning and ask about a maid to be a companion to Toni, to sort out her wardrobe and the other more personal stuff that I couldn’t be bothered with. And Anne Russell would do that for me.

I smiled at my reflection. There was a lot I wanted to be bothered with, though. I was very glad at the way she’d responded to the restraint. That meant that I could push the boundaries a little more next time, and my hand tingled as I imagined it connecting sharply with her shapely ass.

I had to stop thinking like this. It was a Monday. I’d lost the whole day thinking about her, making plans for her. I needed to call the team, check up on what was happening. I couldn’t let things slide. I smiled. Tomorrow I might be rather busy with her too.



* * *



At seven-thirty, I knocked on the outer door to her sitting room and waited until I heard her quiet ‘Come in’ call. I’d had another think about how soon I wanted to push her privacy boundaries.

“I hope you feel refreshed and ready for dinner.” I gave her my arm, and she tucked her hand into the crook of my elbow after a little hesitation. I thought she might as well start learning gracious living. Down in the living room, I poured her a sherry and brought the glass over to her. Then I stared, preoccupied, out of the window. I was beginning to think that teaching her the traditional manners of life and the wild sexual adventures that I wanted of her might be difficult for me to keep separate in my mind — meaning she’d have no chance.

I heard the click of a chess piece, and turned. She’d picked up the queen and was admiring it. I didn’t like the set, but it had been given to me by a fellow developer when he’d visited me, and I needed to keep it out because he visited often. It was too ostentatious, too gaudy for me. I smiled as I watched her smooth her hand down the piece. Most women fell for the bling, very few could play. I turned back to the window, hearing the pieces as she quietly moved them, thinking she was looking at each in turn.

I remembered my duty as host and turned to entertain her, when all I really wanted was to cancel dinner and get her back into bed. But I pushed the thought away and went towards her. Then I saw she’d been moving the white pieces into the classic opening formation, the one all the beginners learned first. King and queen’s pawns first. Bishops out, knights protecting the center, and then castling. She’d been taught the basics.

“Do you play?” This might be an interesting development. Chess was a very serious business but maybe I could bring in some form of punishment play for when she lost. I was smiling as I knelt beside her at the low board.

“Oh, yes!” Her face was animated. “I used to love it at school, but I don’t know anyone now who plays.” Her smile dropped from her face. I remembered that her life was empty of people at the moment.

“I’m glad to find that you play. I enjoy a game myself.” No need to tell her that I played national tournaments. Playing a beginner would feel excruciating.

Dinner was all right. She had good manners for the situation at the moment, but I would need to make some adjustments to them to be suitable for back home.

The only difficulty was the problem I had focusing on her as a person. I wanted to get her back to bed and fuck ourselves stupid. I hadn’t been this besotted with anyone for a long time. But I was a good actor. I didn’t think she noticed anything amiss, and I could see that she had a warm glow from our session earlier in the afternoon.

She happily chatted about her life before her grandmother had died, and how she’d had her hopes and dreams of the future shattered.

That evening I took her through to my study for coffee. While we chatted I showed her my old chess set. “We must have a game or two in a few days.” I picked up the king, polishing him with my thumb. “I like this set better than the one in the sitting room.”

“Oh, yes. So do I,” she murmured, her hand reverently smoothing along the inlaid board.