Page 9 of Mayfair Madame
But something else had occurred this evening. Something I’d yet to unpack.
For the first time in a long while, a woman had caught my eye. It was definitely unexpected.Shewas unexpected.
The opposite of me, she was soft where I was hard, with a sensuality about her I didn’t think she knew she had.
She was shorter than me, but that wasn’t difficult. I was tall for a woman, five feet ten, over six feet in heels. I intimidated most men.
She was petite, with curves hidden by shapeless clothes, but I saw beneath them.
Her face had captivated me, and I hoped I hadn’t given away how much I’d wanted her to see me. Not as Naomi the hooker but as Naomi the woman.
Soft brown curls framed her face, with eyes gentle and kind, and lips. God, those lips were enough to drive me wild. Would they be as sumptuous as they looked?
She’d smelt sweet, of roses and something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Not perfume. Perhaps it was her soap or natural scent. Either way, it’d seeped into my every pore.
Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply, but all I smelt now was the lavender that hung in the damp air.
I dried myself and flipped the lid on the body lotion I loved. The daily ritual kept my skin soft.
I draped my silk robe around me. I liked the finer things in life: designer clothes, shoes, my penthouse.
I’d grown up with very little and now cherished everything I owned. I’d worked hard for it all, and no one would take it from me. Least of all, a fat bastard who couldn’t keep his dick in his trousers if he tried.
But it was late, and I had a meeting with Melinda tomorrow. If I took my pills now, I’d get a good few hours of sleep, assuming they did their job.
I climbed into bed; the sheets cool against my naked flesh. I preferred to sleep naked, whether alone or with someone, but it had been a long time since I’d shared my bed.
Despite what had happened earlier, it wasn’t Benjamin fucking Godfrey who kept me awake, but the soft-spoken detective who had refused to meet my gaze. Her voice and beauty invaded my dreams, and it was all I could do to grab a few hours’ sleep before morning arrived.
Loud hammering woke me up.
Groggily, I sat up and ran my fingers through my hair. Where on earth was that racket coming from?
Were they doing building work I didn’t know about?
Now awake, I got out of bed and slipped on my robe. Time for coffee. I yawned and staggered to the kitchen. Shit, the noise was coming from my door.
“I’m coming. Stop your banging,” I muttered, unlocking the door and throwing it open.
In the hallway stood a concerned-looking Melinda, her arm raised, ready to knock again.
“Jesus, Melinda. Why so early?” I walked back to the kitchen. It was too early for this shit.
“Early? Early? It’s past eleven, Naomi.”
“What? You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Had I really slept through my alarm?
“I was about to call the police. You never sleep this late. I’m just thankful you’re okay. Anything could have happened.”
Why hadn’t my alarm gone off? I’d barely got a wink of sleep, but according to my phone, it was eleven. Melinda was right, dammit. The alarm had gone off. I’d just not heard it.
I still needed coffee, though, and set to making a pot.
We sat in silence while it brewed. I disliked mornings, and Melinda knew not to talk to me before coffee, but she did anyway.
“Here. I brought you one of those pastries you like.” She pushed a box towards me from the bakery downstairs. The smell coming from it was divine.
“You only go to look at the cute girl working there. What’s her name again?” I bit into the buttery pastry and moaned. So fucking good.
