Intrigued and Enchanted (4 page)

“I can’t wait to run my hands through your gorgeous hair while I kiss those pretty pink lips of yours.”

Every word he whispers to me throughout the night is like a direct line to ‘little Lil’. My body hums, a delicious ache building in my stomach and between my thighs, just from the anticipation of kissing this beautiful man for the first time.

By the end of the night, Jess is looking very cosy with Brandon’s friend Simon. He’s hanging on her every word and she’s just being Jess, gorgeous and sexy and irresistible. Brandon offers to drive us home but Simon says he’ll make sure Jess gets home safely. They’re going to go dancing. I take Jess aside and give her my usual safe sex lecture, but she just kisses my cheek and tells me not to wait up.

After thanking Paul for a wonderful evening, and saying our goodbyes, Brandon places his hand on the small of my back and leads me out to his waiting town car. I recognise his driver Angus from the other night. I give him a small smile as he opens the door for me.

“So nice to see you again Ms Pritchard.”

“Thank you Angus.” I slide into the plush car, making sure I’m not showing more than I should in my short dress. Once I’m settled Brandon climbs in next to me, leaving no space between us. His thigh brushing up against mine, sending jolts of pleasure through me. Oh my God, if I ever actually kiss this man, I might explode with the overload of sensation. I have to say, I can think of worse ways to go! Brandon cuts into my day dream, asking how I know Paul.

“We go way back, I’ve known Paul since school. Jess has known him her whole life. I moved to New York when I was 16 and Jess took me under her wing, her friends became my friends, and the rest is history.” I then realise that I’ve inadvertently opened a door I did’t want to.

“Why did you move to New York?”

“My dad died when I was 15. We lived on a ranch and my mom couldn’t manage it without him, so she sold up and we moved to New York to be closer to my grandparents.” Brandon interlaces our fingers once again.

“I’m sorry to hear that Lily, I don’t know what it’s like to lose a parent. Even at the age I am now, I know I’d be devastated. It must have been awful for you at 15. What happened?” I can feel the tears, but I can’t stop them.

“I can’t Brandon, not just now.” He pulls me onto his lap and wraps his arms around me.

“It’s ok sweetheart. You don’t have to tell me. When you’re ready, I’ll be here if you want to talk.” The last time I felt this secure and content in someone’s arms, it was my father’s.

That realisation scares me. I don’t think I’ve ever really recovered from his loss and the thought of letting another man give me that sense of love and safety is something I’ve always avoided. I don’t think I would survive losing that feeling twice in a lifetime.

I try to pull away from Brandon, put some distance between us, but he won’t let me. He just holds me close, sensing my need for quiet. I know I have to stop whatever this is between us before I get hurt, but for tonight, I just want to enjoy the bubble that we’re in, where nothing else matters and I feel more relaxed than I have in years.

When we pull up outside my apartment, our bubble is burst. I crawl out of Brandon’s lap and grab the door handle.

“Allow me Miss Pritchard”. Brandon comes round to the door to help me out, his body moving like a cat. He is so graceful, so at ease with his body. He definitely works out…a lot.

He’s ripped in all the right places. Stop it Lily! This is not helping with the distance myself plan. Brandon insists on accompanying me to the entrance of my building tonight. When we reach the vast glass doors, he tells me he’ll pick me up at 10am for our date, and I’m a bit surprised.

“I didn’t think you would want to go out tomorrow because we saw each other tonight. Especially after my teary outburst in the car. Not the best impression to make on a guy.”

He lifts my hand to his lips and gives it the softest kiss. I think my heart literally just skipped a beat. His lips feel amazing on my skin. So soft. But firm. When I look into his eyes he’s gazing intently at me.

“Lily, of course I want to see you tomorrow, can’t you see how captivated I am by you?”

He’s so intense, and it is hot as hell, but we’ve only known each other for a few days, and have only been in each other’s company for a few hours. I don’t understand what this GQ model, business man wants from me. He can have anyone he wants.

“You already agreed to spend the day with me Miss Pritchard, and I will hold you to it. I’ll be here to pick you up at ten.” With that he kisses my hand one last time. Lingering for a moment, almost breathing me in it seems, and then he leaves. I feel lonely all of a sudden.

How can you miss the presence of someone you hardly know? Somehow I feel like part of me just left the building with him, and a sense of unease runs through me. Having strong feelings for someone as unobtainable as Brandon Redgrave will only end badly for me.

I resolve to tell him after our date tomorrow that it would be best if we don’t spend any more time together. It’s for the best, but as I close my eyes, I still dream of ice blue eyes, warm embraces, and a contentment beyond compare.

6

It’s Saturday morning in the blink of an eye and I have to get ready for my date with Brandon. I have no idea where he’s planning on taking me, so I fire him a quick text.

Me: Dress code for today? Where are we going?

Mr E: Anything you wear will be perfect Lily. Casual is fine. I’m not telling, it’s a surprise.
Brandon x

I can do casual. My hair is still looking quite fabulous from the effort I put in last night, even if I do say so myself; I just need a quick shower, minimal make-up, and some jeans that make my ass look good. I decide to go for black skinny jeans, my favourite pink Adidas high tops and a classic fitted white t-shirt, just low enough to highlight my cleavage without being obvious.

Ready with time to spare! I’m chewing over the various conversations from last night when I remember Paul assuming that I’ve heard of Redgrave Enterprises. I guess the company Brandon works for, must be a family business, and a bit of a big deal in Manhattan.

I decide to do a quick Google search on my date for the day.

Holy. Frigging. Shit. Brandon doesn’t work for Redgrave Enterprises, Brandon OWNS Redgrave Enterprises. I am way out of my league here. As I read on it becomes apparent that Brandon has more money that Croesus, and is clearly a savant. Redgrave Enterprises owns what seems like half the commercial real estate in Manhattan. Not only does he make a fortune leasing premises, he also invests in a number of these companies and helps turn them into something bigger than they ever would have been on their own.

It’s a staggering achievement for anyone, especially someone so young. I’m not sure how old he is, but I would guess late twenties. Thoroughly intimidated by his business achievements, I decide to move on to the images search, just to torment myself further.

Wow. He really is all kinds of gorgeous. Page after page of Brandon at every high profile event in Manhattan. There are pictures of him with a few different women, but nothing that would make me jealous, until I notice that one of the women is in way more of the pictures with him than anyone else. She’s stunning…of course. They look like the perfect power couple, and they look like they’re in love.

I feel my stomach drop when I see the way he’s looking at her. He doesn’t look much younger than he is now. Oh God, I’m the rebound girl. Fuck. I knew there had to be a reason for his interest in someone like me.

Great…me and my nosey nature have just ruined this date before it starts. I could have enjoyed a lovely day, with a gorgeous man and been oblivious to his reasons for wanting to spend time with me. That would have worked for me.

The phone rings and I glance at my watch to see that it is 10am on the button. I answer the call from the doorman, who lets me know Brandon has arrived. I tell him to send Brandon up and I unlock the front door to let him in. I grab my short black leather jacket from my room and head for the door. When I come out of my room I swear my breath just evaporates.

Brandon is standing in the doorway of my apartment, leaning his broad shoulders against the wall, toned arms crossed over his chest.

I drink in the sight of him. He’s wearing a white fitted t-shirt that highlights his muscled arms and abs to perfection. There’s not a morsel of fat on him. Over the t-shirt he has a tailored black shirt, open, with the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong sinewy forearms. I don’t know how he does it, but even his forearms are sexy.

The way he’s leaning against the door, his t-shirt lifts ever so slightly and I can see a hint of the mouth-watering V of muscles heading down into the low waistband of his jeans. Oh. Fuck. That is hot. He has on black fitted jeans and charcoal grey biker style boots with the laces loose. This is not the businessman I met this week, this is a bad boy model who is giving me a panty melting smile.

“Hello Lily. You look beautiful today. Are you ready to go, or are you going to stand there with that sexy as fuck look on your face that says you’re going to rip my clothes off any second?” I can’t even answer I’m so gobsmacked by how amazing he looks, and as soon as he says those words, I’m picturing stripping him and seeing every last sexy as hell inch of him.

“Lily…Miss Pritchard, I will not be responsible for my actions if you keep looking at me like that. I’m trying to be a gentleman here, so please, get your sweet ass over here and let’s go before I lose the small amount of control I am exercising at present.”

With that statement, I realise I’m staring at him like an idiot. I grab my keys, my cheeks flushed with a little embarrassment and a lot of arousal. As I brush past Brandon he softly takes my hand in his and leads me to the elevator. I love the feel of his warm callused hand in mine.

On the ride down to the lobby I realise what a certain book was talking about in relation to elevators. (You know exactly what I’m talking about) The atmosphere in this enclosed space is combustible. I feel like there’s a fire running from where Brandon’s hand touches mine, up my arm, spreading throughout my body.

“Fuck” He mutters under his breath. I pretend I don’t hear him and try my best not to look at him. I last about 20 seconds and then I just can’t help myself. I turn my head to sneak a glance at him, but when I lift my eyes to his, he’s staring at me with an intensity I have never seen before.

There’s a hunger in his eyes that makes me feel naked in front of him. I feel like I’m going to pass out if I don’t put some distance between us. As exciting as this feeling is, I’m actually thankful when the elevator doors open and I move to dislodge my hand from Brandon’s. He’s having none of that. He holds my hand tight and pulls me to his side.

As we walk outside into the bright beautiful New York sunshine, I spy Jess walking towards us.

“Jess Foster. Doing the walk of shame.” Jess shoots me the biggest grin and bites her bottom lip.

“Who said I’m ashamed. I had a fabulous night. Tell Simon I said Hi when you see him Brandon.” Brandon smirks.

“I will pass along your regards Jess.” Brandon’s voice lowers as he speaks.

“Thanks again for helping me out yesterday.” Jess smiles.

“No problem Casanova. Just remember you owe me, and remember what I told you about my girl here.” With that Jess gives me a massive hug, tells me to have a great time and cut loose for a change, and heads into our building.

As I turn my attention back to Brandon I notice the most expensive looking car I have ever seen double parked right outside the doors to my building. Of course he doesn’t abide by the rules the rest of us do!

“Really, a red sports car. Could you be anymore cliché?” Shit, shit, shit. I need to control my brain to mouth filter. I just said that out loud. Brandon lets out a hearty belly laugh.

“Don’t hold back Lily. Say what you really think.” Shit.

“You are right though. This is a Ferrari 458 Italia. The word cliché was invented for this kind of car, but I just can’t bring myself to care. I fucking love this car. She’s my baby, and she’s fucking perfect. Just wait until you take a drive with me sweetheart, you’ll understand when you feel her engine purring beneath you.”

How can a car make me jealous and horny at the same time? There is most definitely something wrong with me. Brandon opens the passenger door for me and I have to say, as soon as I slide into the leather seat, I have a bit of a crush on this car myself. Brandon gets into the car with the elegance of a dancer. It’s a joy to watch.

When he starts the engine I swear it sends a jolt straight to my lady bits. I can’t help but smile. I turn to look at Brandon and he has a massive grin on his face, like a little boy at Christmas.

“See, I told you.” I just laugh. “Touché”.

I sit back, enjoy the ride, enjoy the company, and enjoy the sense of ease I feel with Brandon. I ask a number of times where we’re going, but he isn’t going to give it up that easily. I’m surprised by how natural it feels to be alone with Brandon. I am usually pretty nervous on first dates, but something about Brandon and the way he seems genuinely interested in everything I have to say makes him easy to talk to.

I realise while we're talking that we’re dressed in similar outfits. Black jeans, white t-shirt. We match. I point it out to Brandon and he moves his hand from the steering wheel and onto my thigh. “I like it. Everyone will know that you’re mine.”

I can’t think straight with his hand on my thigh, and he makes no attempt to move it back to the wheel. We drive for a while in silence, make a snack stop, (I’m surprised he lets me eat in this car) and start chatting back and forth again. After a few hours we arrive in the Hamptons. Nice.

“Do you have a house here? Is that your devious plan, to lock me away in your beach house?” Brandon gives me a wonderfully wicked grin.

“As tempting as that sounds Miss Pritchard, I have other plans for you today. I know I’m a walking cliché to you, however, you’ll be surprised to find out I do not in fact own a property in the Hamptons. My friend Simon that you met last night has a nice beach front property and kindly gave me the keys for the weekend.” Weekend? What the F? I can feel the sweat forming on my brow at the prospect.