Page 59 of Pleasure Payback

‘Other than that it just sits idle?’

He shrugged.

I looked at the spectacular structure looming up before us. ‘How many rooms?’

‘Twenty bedrooms. Nine reception areas. Assorted outhouses and stables.’

‘That seems...excessive.’

He gave me a tense little smile as he opened a set of French doors and ushered us into a vast hallway with gleaming herringbone parquet floors and two immense stone fireplaces. ‘I’m a Mortimer. I’m conditioned to do everything with my family in mind, whether I want to or not. Right this minute Gideon is buying an almighty great yacht big enough to fit the whole Mortimer clan even though we all hate each other.’

‘Because like you, he hates failing too?’

He tensed, then faced me at the foot of a grand, sweeping staircase. ‘Perhaps I’m practising what has been ingrained in me since I was old enough to understand.’

My heart banged against my ribs, fleeing whatever he was about to say. ‘Which is?’

His eyes were hard. Piercing. ‘That everyone has an agenda. And that it’s rarely selfless.’

A chill crawled over my skin, sank deep into my blood. I wanted to reject that allegation but...how could I? I wanted to demand whathisagenda was, but again...how could I?

We were here because I had an agenda of my own. One that seemed to grow more nebulous by the second.

Confused emotions roiled inside me, rending me speechless.

Footsteps approached, as if summoned by some unknown signal to interrupt that exact moment. The slim elderly woman who appeared was simply but impeccably dressed. Damian chatted to her in flawless French before he turned to me.

‘This is Margret, the housekeeper—’ He stopped when his phone buzzed.

He pulled it out, stared at the screen and exhaled angrily. The gaze he flashed me was distracted. ‘I have to take this, Neve. Margret will show you to your room. Feel free to explore on your own but stay away from the second floor. I don’t want the surprise ruined.’

I realised I was staring at his departing figure when Margret cleared her throat. ‘Wouldmademoisellelike a quick tour?’

I wanted to say, no,mademoisellewould like to know what had just happened. Instead I summoned a smile. ‘Yes, please.’

Then came the progression through stunning room after stunning room, each with an identity of its own but somehow melding in perfect symmetry with the whole. Crown mouldings blended seamlessly with hand-painted mosaics. Stone archways invited exploration of beautiful rooms with spectacular views.

By the time I was shown into my suite on the third floor, Chateau des Nuages owned a piece of my heart.

Just like its owner?

I leapt back from the question, but it haunted me into sleep and still lurked, insidious and terrifying, when I woke from my nap an hour later.

The more I tried to push it away, the faster my weighty emotions churned. Going where I didn’t want them to go. Towards Damian Mortimer, and the suspicion that the plan I’d hatched during the pre-production meeting two weeks ago had indeedaltered.

That I wasn’t in complete control.

Margret’s arrival with a tray of the most exquisite seafood bisque and crusty bread I’d ever tasted, followed by a mouth-watering crème brûlée, distracted me for a blessed half an hour.

I was fresh out of the shower when she returned to clear away the dishes, and I stopped in surprise as she wheeled in a clothes rail on which hung an expensive-looking garment bag. ‘Monsieurasked me to give you this.’ She handed me a note.

I waited till she left before I opened it and read Damian’s bold scrawl.

See you in an hour. Wear the red ensemble. My fantasy. My rules.

I’d accepted that Damian’s fantasy might require its own unique accoutrements. The evidence of it sent decadent shivers down my spine as I went to the rail and slowly pulled down the zip of the garment bag.

The red dress was stunning, complete with a plunging neckline and an honest-to-God sweeping train. Sky-high strappy red-soled shoes with sparkling diamanté buckles winked at me from the bottom of the bag. I was so absorbed with the shoes I almost didn’t spot the black satin bag hanging to the side.

---